#as i've said before; i'm not good with words

[chris-hallelujah]

Have You Ever Tried This One? pt. 2 | m.s.

Part One Here!

Warnings: foul language, oral (m and f receiving), alcohol usage

Word Count: 1.8k words

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Join my tag list : @matthewsroses @lvrsturniolo @sturnzsblog @nickgurl4life

Enter my giveaway!! (closes 11/15)

Divider by: @anitalenia

A/N: Thank you all for the love on part one! I was not expecting it to get the attention it did. Thank you again @delilahsturniolo for the inspo and letting me make your idea my own. I'm sorry if it feels rushed -- I knew you all were waiting for this so I tried to hurry!!

<3 - Billie

The lights in the arena darkened and you disappeared from the view of the crowd's view. "Goodnight Boston, I'll see you soon!" You called into the mic before handing it off to someone on stage crew. Your manager handed you a water bottle which you gladly took. Making your way back to your dressing room, she fussed over your hair and outfit.

"There are a few journalists who want to speak with you and those boys you invited backstage," she said powdering your face. You waved her off.

"I just got done with a concert, they can deal with a little bit of imperfection," you laughed walking out of your dressing room. In the lobby area backstage you saw the triplets with Chris' girlfriend standing against a wall. You waved at them to acknowledge them quickly before you had to deal with the few journalists. After about 10 minutes of interviews and answering questions, you were finally free. You sauntered over to the group with a smile. "Hi! I'm so sorry to keep you all waiting! I'm Billie, it is so nice to meet you all," You exclaimed shaking each of their hands as they introduced themselves. Your hand lingered connected to Matt's for a few seconds longer than the others. He was quiet, shy as you all conversed. Chris and Nick did most of the talking. "I've seen some of your videos. You guys are hilarious," you smiled looking across all of them but then locking eyes with Matt.

"Y-you've seen our videos?" he asked surprised, earning a nod from you.

"I have and I'm really honored you all came tonight. I hope you enjoyed the show." You all chatted for a bit before your manager passed by giving you a look to wrap it up. "It was great to get to meet you all. And, Matt, if you're up for it, I'd love to chat more." You flashed him a confident smile and handed him a paper with your number on it. He took it with a shaky hand, staring at it wide eyed.

"Yea, no, that - yea sounds good," he blurt out earning a laugh from his brothers.

"You might have broke him," Nick teased.

After you all parted ways you made your way back to your hotel room. The hot shower water ran down your body as you felt your muscles relax. The plush bathrobe hugged your body as you climbed out of the shower and, as if on cue, your phone buzzed.

Hey, you put on a great show tonight. Thanks for the handcuffs. Now I just need to put them to use ;)

You're too sweet and a bit more bold when your brothers aren't around to tease you

They're a piece of work lol when can I see you again?

I'm at the four seasons room 311

Matt stared at his phone in shock. He never would have expected you to just give him the information for your hotel room. He quietly snuck out of his bedroom, not wanting to have to deal with telling Nick and Chris that he was going to see you.

You quickly freshened up, enough to look cute but not too much that you looked desperate. About 15 minutes later there was a knock at your hotel room door. Matt's face greeted you as you opened it. He was leaning against the wall with a slight smirk. You could already tell that he was a different Matt than you'd met earlier. "Hey, pretty girl," he spoke smoothly.

A slight blush crept your cheeks as you moved aside to let him in. You took in his all black outfit, noting how nice it looked on him. "Hi Matt," you smiled. Matt looked around, taking in the fancy hotel suite you were in.

"Nice place you got here. All of your tour stops this fancy?" he asked sitting down on the sofa.

You laughed a bit, "I try and make them feel like home a bit. Traveling so much can be exhausting and it's nice to come back to a hotel room that has all that I need in it." Shuffling through the mini fridge, you pulled out some wine. "You want some?" He nodded leading you to pour two glasses. You took a spot next to him on the sofa, not leaving much room between you, but enough for it to not be awkward. "So, tell me about you. What do I need to know about Matt Sturniolo?" you asked.

He took a sip of the wine before turning fully to face you, "Well, as you know I'm a triplet. I'm the middle one. We've been doing YouTube since-"

You cut him off shaking your head. "I don't want to know about your brothers. Tell me about you." This caused Matt's head to spin. He wasn't used to people only wanting to learn about him. People always loved Chris for his looks and Nick for his humor, but sometimes Matt felt swept under the rug. ((I'm crying writing this))

A smile on his face, he took a different approach, "Okay well, I really like nature. I feel so at peace when I'm outside. I also used to be really into reading. Fell outta that for a while, but I'm starting to pick it up again." The two of you chatted getting to know each other and finishing the bottle of wine quicker than either of you had planned.

It had been an hour of just drinking and talking and before you knew it your legs were draped over his lap, hands in his hair. He had his lips attached to yours as he held your hips. You weren't quite sure how you got there, but you weren't complaining. Matt pulled away slightly, earning a whine from you. Both of you breathing heavily, he leaned his forehead against yours. "You sure about this, miss popstar?" he said, teasing you slightly. You giggled and nodded, placing your lips on his neck. He groaned, tilting his head back to give you more access. You trailed down his jawline, then his neck, and to his collarbone leaving bites and kisses in your path. A flash of pink covered your eyes as Matt tugged your shirt off over your head and tossed it to meet his on the floor. He picked you up and tossed you onto the bed. Something caught your eye, peeking out of his back pocket. Something pink. With fur? Oh my god.

A chuckle escaped your lips as you tugged the fuzzy pink handcuffs you had gifted him at the concert out of his back pocket. "I see you wanted to break in your gift," you smirked, twirling them on your finger. He chuckled snatching them from you and tossing them to the side.

"Don't worry, pretty girl, they'll get used soon," he winked. His pants hit the floor and your eyes trailed down his body. Before you knew it, you found yourself on your knees in front of him. "Such a good girl. Didn't even have to tell you," he smirked. You were practically drooling at the sight of him. Your hand wrapped around his length causing him to hiss slightly. As your lips enclosed around his tip, his hand found home in your hair. Your tongue swirled around him slowly before you closed the distance between your lips and his groin. He groaned loudly as you took him in deeper. Impulsively, his hand pushed your head further, causing a choking noise to leave you. "Shhh, you got it, princess. Doin' - ah - doing so well," he moaned as your head bobbed. As you moved your head back and forth, your hand covered what didn't fit in your mouth. It did not take long for Matt's hand to coerce you a bit more forcefully as you noticed his body tense up. "Oh fuck, keep goin," he moaned. A few more pumps later you felt his load shoot into your mouth as he groaned loudly, squeezing his eyes shut. You pulled off of him with a slight 'pop' and sat with a satisfied grin on your face. He let out a deep breath before looking down at you.

Next thing you knew, your back hit the mattress and Matt hovered over you. "Better wipe that smirk off that pretty little face," he chuckled. To your right you heard the sound of metal clinking. Matt's hand gathered your small wrist and cuffed you to the bed. You looked up at the handcuffs and back at him whimpering slightly. Your arms wiggled causing the metal to clank against the headboard. "What? Can't handle what you dish out?" he smirked and trailed kisses down your torso. When he reached your underwear, his eyes met yours again for approval. As you nodded, he discarded your thong onto the floor. Your hips twitched in anticipation as you felt his breath on your core. The wide grin on his face was undeniable as he watched you already writhing beneath him. "So sensitive," he chuckled tracing circles on your thigh, "barely even touched you yet."

"Matty, please," you whined. He ended your suffering licking a stripe up your folds. Your hips lifted at the contact and you gasped loudly. He quickly shoved your hips back down to the bed and held them there with his hands, probably leaving bruises that would show tomorrow. Matt explored you with his tongue, taking note on what made your legs shake. As his tongue circled your clit, he felt your hips try to raise against his hands. "Oh! Matt fuck" you moaned loudly. He smiled against you knowing he figured out your weakness. He continued to work your bundle of nerves until you were a writhing, moaning mess underneath him. The noise of the handcuffs fighting the headboard earned a laugh from Matt's mouth that vibrated against you. Your body tensed as your climax built up. He slipped a finger into you, thrusting quickly as his tongue danced against your clit. You felt pleasure take over your body. "Matt - my god! Don't stop!" you cried out. He continued to ride out your orgasm until your body relaxed and you panted against the bed. He carefully removed his fingers from you and crawled up to meet your eyes. Your lips wrapped around his fingers, tasting yourself as you licked them clean. He removed his fingers from your mouth and unlocked the handcuffs.

A soft kiss landed on your forehead as he pulled his t shirt over your head. You smiled climbing under the covers. Pulling his boxers back on before he climbed into bed with you. The night was spent wrapped in each others' arms.

The morning light showed through the curtains as you woke. After cuddling up to Matt for a few more minutes, you reached for your phone. Your eyes widened as you saw messages from your manager. Attached was an article titled, "YouTube Triplet Seen at Pop Star's Hotel." You knew this was not going to end well with your publicity team but, boy, was it worth it.

[lostfracturess]

LAST DECEMBER MORNING — SATORU GOJO

pairing — satoru gojo x sorcerer!reader

summary — on a frost-bitten december morning, you watch satoru gojo prepare for his fated battle with sukuna with infuriating calm, like he isn't planning to sacrifice himself for the greater good. you've spent years being his secret, clearing battlefields for him and stealing kisses between missions, but now you're faced with the most brutal truth. that sometimes the cruelest curse isn't the one that kills you — it's loving someone who belongs to the world before they belong to you.

word count — 5.4 k

warnings — heavy angst, hurt/no comfort, mentions of blood and violence, implied death, unhealthy relationship, sad ending

author's note — this has been rotting in my drafts since the final jjk chapter dropped, and i finally dragged it out into the light bc i'm procrastinating uni. fair warning, this is pure angst with zero comfort, just two people breaking each other's hearts because sometimes love isn't enough. anywayys, happy reading <3

masterlist

Winter had never felt so much like an ending.

You watched frost creep across the windows of your shared apartment, each crystalline pattern forming like cracks in glass, spreading slowly but inevitably.

Outside, the world lay hushed under winter's blanket, everything soft and serene. Birds traced lazy patterns against a sky so blue it hurt to look at, and fresh snow made everything clean and new.

It was the kind of morning that belonged in fairy tales, the kind poets write about when they want to capture peace in words. Strange, how you'd never imagined death would choose such a beautiful day.

You watched Satoru move through his routine, each gesture precise and unhurried. White hair caught the pale sunlight as he smoothed it back, his reflection in the mirror handsome as ever before he adjusted his clothes, and put on his blindfold.

You'd watched him prepare for countless missions before, but this felt different. This felt final.

The normality of it all was almost cruel — how he could stand there, getting ready like this was just another day, just another fight. Like the sun wasn't rising on what could be your last morning together.

The clock on the wall ticked steadily forward, each second falling like a stone into still water. Time felt strange, both rushing too fast and moving too slow. You wanted to grab the clock's hands, force them to stop, to give you just a few more moments in this morning that felt like borrowed time.

"You're staring," he said without turning around, a slight smile playing at his lips.

"Can you blame me?" You were curled up in the window seat, tea growing cold in your hands. "It's not every day your— whatever we are goes to fight the King of Curses."

He turned then, and even through the blindfold, you could feel the weight of his gaze. "Whatever we are?" There was amusement in his tone. "After all this time, you still don't know what we are?"

"Well, we're not exactly big on labels," you pointed out, trying to keep your voice light despite the heaviness in your chest. "Secret relationship and all that."

"Ah, but that's what makes it fun, isn't it?" He crossed the room to where you sat, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from your face. "The sneaking around, the secret meetings—"

"Satoru." You caught his hand. "How are you so calm about this?"

He tilted his head, considering. "Would you prefer if I was panicking?"

"I'd prefer if you showed any emotion at all about the fact that you're about to fight Sukuna." You stood up, setting your tea aside. "You've been acting like this is just another day, just another fight, but it's not. You know it's not."

"I think I've shown plenty of emotion," he said, pulling you closer with a playful smile. "Just last night, if I recall—"

"Don't." You pressed a hand against his chest, keeping him at arm's length. "Don't deflect. Not today."

The smile faded from his face, replaced by something more serious. "What do you want me to say?"

"I want you to tell me why you're so calm. I want you to tell me why you're not worried." Your voice cracked slightly, but you pushed on. "I want you to tell me why it feels like you're saying goodbye."

He was quiet for a long moment, his thumb tracing patterns on your wrist where he still held it. Finally, he spoke, his voice softer than before. "The world needs to move forward. It needs to find someone stronger."

"What are you talking about?" You pulled back slightly. "You're the strongest there is."

"Am I?" His smile was gentle, almost sad. "Or is that just what everyone needs to believe?"

"Satoru—"

"The world has relied on me for too long," he continued. "They've made me their symbol, their savior, their stupid hero. But what happens when I'm gone? Who protects them then?"

"You're not going anywhere," you said. "You're going to win. You always win."

He cupped your face in his hands, thumbs brushing your cheekbones. "Sometimes winning isn't about surviving. Sometimes it's about making sure what comes after is better than what came before."

"That's not funny."

"I'm not trying to be funny." He leaned forward, pressing his forehead against yours. "I'm trying to tell you that whatever happens today, the world will keep turning. It will find new leaders, new protectors. Maybe even better ones."

"I don't want new protectors," you whispered. "I want you."

"Ah, but you've always had me," he said softly. "Ever since that first mission together, when you told me my head was too big to fit through doorways. Do you remember?"

You huffed. "You were showing off, making everything more complicated than it needed to be."

"I was trying to impress you."

"You're always trying to impress me."

"But it's working, right?"

You pressed closer to him, breathing in his familiar scent. "You know it is, you idiot."

He wrapped his arms around you, holding you tight against his chest. For a moment, you both stood there in silence, listening to each other's heartbeats. The familiar rhythm brought back memories of how this all began, of the first time you'd been close enough to hear his heart race.

For loving Satoru Gojo had always been the most beautiful and dangerous thing in your world.

It started in blood, as most things in your world did. A mission gone wrong, cursed spirits thick in the air, the metallic taste of death sharp on your tongue. You’d seen him fight before—who hadn’t?

But that night was different. That night, you saw him bleed.

A special-grade curse caught you both off guard. One moment, he fought three curses at once like some untouchable god, and the next, he was crashing through three buildings, blood gushing from his mouth.

Something in your chest cracked at the sight — not from the impact of being thrown back yourself, but from seeing him, the strongest sorcerer alive, look so terrifyingly human.

You remembered how his blindfold had been torn, those devastating blue eyes meeting yours across the wreckage. Blood trickled down his chin, his usually perfect hair matted with debris, and yet he smiled. That damn smile that made your heart stutter even as cursed spirits attacked you from all sides.

“Trying to steal my spotlight?” he’d joked, wiping blood from his lips as he stood. “I’m the only one allowed to look cool here.”

You wanted to strangle him. You wanted to kiss him. You wanted to scream at him for making jokes when he could have died. You did none of those things. Instead, you cleared the area, giving him the perfect opening he needed to obliterate the special grade.

Later, after the dust had settled and the reports had been filed, he cornered you in the darkened hallway of Jujutsu High.

“You’re angry,” he said, not a question but a statement.

“I’m not angry.” You were furious. “I’m just wondering how someone who’s supposed to be the strongest can be so fucking reckless.”

He stepped closer, backing you against the wall. “Worried about me?”

“You wish.” But your voice shook, betraying you. Because you had been worried. Terrified, actually. The image of him lying in that wreckage, blood staining his white hair red, had burned itself into your mind.

“Liar,” he whispered, and then his lips were on yours.

Everything they said about Satoru Gojo was true — he was overwhelming, all-consuming, impossible to resist. Kissing him felt like being struck by lightning, like being unmade and remade in the space between heartbeats. You broke apart, both breathing hard, and reality came crashing back.

“Fuck,” you summarized eloquently.

He laughed, the sound low and rich. “That could be arranged.”

“Satoru.” You pressed a hand against his chest, feeling his heart race under your palm. “We can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re you. Because I’m me. Because there are a thousand reasons why this is a terrible idea.”

“I’m only hearing excuses.” He caught your hand, pressing a kiss to your palm. “Not actual reasons.”

And that was how it started — with blood and curses and kisses in dark hallways. With terrible ideas that felt too good to resist.

Keeping it secret was both easier and harder than you expected. Easier because everyone already knew how Satoru was — flirtatious, tactile, always pushing boundaries. No one questioned when he draped himself over your desk during meetings or appeared uninvited in your office and stayed for hours.

Harder because every moment felt like a lie of omission. Harder because you had to watch him walk into danger again and again, had to maintain professional distance when all you wanted was to grab him and never let go.

You stole moments where you could find them. Quick kisses in empty classrooms, heated encounters between missions, quiet nights in your apartment when the world thought he was somewhere else entirely.

It ate at you sometimes. Not because you wanted to announce it to the world, but because each moment felt borrowed, stolen from a future you might never have.

Every time he left for a mission, every time he faced another curse, you wondered if this would be it. If this would be the time your last memory of him would be a secret smile across a meeting room, a cryptic message that no one else understood. But then he’d come back, always with that insufferable smile, usually with some ridiculous story about how amazing he’d been.

He’d find ways to touch you in public that looked casual — a hand at the small of your back during briefings, fingers brushing as he passed you documents, his body angled toward yours in crowded rooms like a sunflower seeking light.

And the worst part? The absolute worst part was how good he was at pretending. How easily he maintained his public persona — the untouchable, unbeatable Satoru Gojo, who flirted with everyone and meant it with no one.

Sometimes you’d catch him looking at you in meetings with the same expression he gave everyone else, and for a moment, you’d wonder if you’d imagined everything between you.

But then night would fall, and he’d show up at your door with takeout and that soft smile he saved just for you. He’d kiss you like he was trying to apologize for every moment he had to pretend you were nothing special, like he was trying to prove that this, the two of you, was the only real thing in his world.

You never talked about the future. How could you? In your line of work, tomorrow was never guaranteed. Each mission could be your last, each kiss could be your goodbye. The closest you ever came to acknowledging it was in the desperate way he’d hold you after a close call, in the way you’d trace his features in the dark like you were trying to memorize them by touch.

Some nights, when sleep eluded you both, he’d tell you about the weight of being the strongest, about the exhaustion of being everyone’s last hope.

He’d whisper his fears into your skin — not of death or defeat, but of failing those who believed in him. Those were the moments when the great Satoru Gojo disappeared, leaving just Satoru, just a man who carried the world on his shoulders and made it look easy.

You lived for those moments. The quiet ones, the real ones, the ones where he wasn’t the strongest sorcerer alive but just yours. Just as you were his.

You carved out your own little infinity in the spaces between battles and duties. A secret world where his laugh wasn’t for show, where your touch wasn’t professional, where you could just be the two of you without the weight of expectations and reputations.

But infinity, as it turned out, had limits. Even his.

Looking at him now, preparing to face Sukuna with that same causality he brought to everything, you wondered if this was how your story was always meant to end. If all those stolen moments were just preparing you for this — one last morning, one last smile, one last chance to pretend tomorrow might come.

The world needed someone stronger, he said. But you needed him. And maybe that was the cruelest curse of all — loving someone the world needed more than you did.

"Promise me something," you said then.

"Hmm?"

"Promise me you won't just give up. Promise me you'll fight to come back."

He pulled back slightly, reaching up to remove his blindfold. His striking blue eyes met yours, intense and clear.

"I promise," he said, "that everything I do today will be for a better tomorrow."

"That's not what I asked."

"It's the only promise I can make."

"Stop." Your voice turned sharp, anger finally breaking through. "Stop talking about tomorrow. Stop talking about the future and the next generation and whatever noble sacrifice you think you need to make. I don't care about any of that."

"Don't you?"

"No, I don't." You grabbed his jacket, fingers twisting in the fabric. "I don't care if the world needs someone stronger. I don't care if the next generation needs to step up. I care about you, you impossible man. I want you here, alive, with me. Is that so wrong? Am I not allowed to be selfish when it comes to you?"

"Huh." He caught your hands in his, but didn't pull them away from his jacket. "And here I thought you understood me better than anyone."

"Don't." You tried to pull away, but he held firm. "Don't you dare try to make this about understanding. I understand perfectly. But you're wrong. You don't have to do this."

His smile faltered slightly. "It's not that simple."

"It is that simple!" Your voice cracked. "You're choosing to make it complicated. You're choosing to walk away, to... to what? Make some grand statement about the future? Prove that the world can survive without the great Satoru Gojo?"

"Someone has to."

"But why does it have to be you?" The words burst out of you, raw and desperate. "Why do you have to be the one to show them? Why can't you just fight to win, to live, to come back to—" You cut yourself off, biting back the words that wanted to follow.

"To you?" he finished softly.

"Yes," you said, dropping your forehead against his chest. "To me. Call me selfish, call me short-sighted, I don't care. I want more mornings like this. More everything. More of you, being insufferably calm and making terrible jokes and acting like the world isn't ending when we both know it might be."

He was quiet for a moment, one hand coming up to cradle the back of your head. When he spoke, his voice was gentler than before.

"I can't promise to come back." He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "But know this, every moment with you has been worth fighting for. Worth living for."

You pulled back enough to look at him, really look at him. "Then fight for more moments. Fight to make more memories. Fight to come back to me, not for some greater purpose or stupid sacrifice, but because you want to."

"And if I told you that wanting isn't enough?"

"Then I'd call you a liar." Your voice turned cold. "Because you're Satoru fucking Gojo. When has anything ever been impossible for you? When have you ever let anyone tell you what you can't do?"

​​"This is different—"

"How? How is this different? Because it's Sukuna? Because it's the fate of jujutsu society? Or because you've already decided how this story ends?"

His hands tightened on you, and for a moment, just a moment, you saw something flicker behind those blue eyes — doubt, fear, longing, you couldn't tell. But then it was gone, replaced by that same calm certainty that made you want to scream.

"Because I can't protect everyone—can't protect you if I allow myself to believe in a tomorrow," he whispered.

The gentleness in his voice, the soft way he delivered words meant to cut, made you want to tear the world apart. It was so perfectly Satoru — to break your heart like he was doing you a favor, to wound you with a tenderness that felt more cruel than any violence could be.

"I never asked you to protect me," you said finally. "I asked you to stay. There's a difference."

"Is there?" His hand came up to cup your face, shaking ever so slightly, betraying the calm he fought so hard to maintain. "Because every time I look at you, all I can think about is how many people would use you to get to me. How many would hurt you just to prove they could touch something I care about."

"So your solution is to what? Die nobly? Make sure there's nothing left for them to use against you?"

"My solution is to make sure the world doesn't need me anymore." His thumb brushed across your cheek, catching a tear you hadn't realized had fallen. "To make sure you don't need me anymore."

"That's not your choice to make. You don't get to decide what I need. You don't get to martyr yourself for some greater good and pretend it's for my protection."

"Then what would you have me do?" For the first time, there was a hint of frustration in his voice. "Ignore my responsibilities? Pretend I'm not who I am?"

"I would have you fight like you want to come back!" The words ripped from your throat. "Fight like there's someone waiting for you after. Fight like you love me as much as I love you!"

The confession rang out between you, and the moment it left your lips, you realized you'd never said it before. Through all the stolen moments, all the secret touches, all the nights you'd spent memorizing each other's bodies — you'd never actually spoken those words aloud.

You'd both danced around it, implied it in every action, every look, every unfinished sentence, but neither of you had ever dared to make it real with words.

Until now. Until you were angry enough, desperate enough, terrified enough to let it slip from your heart straight past your defenses.

"Love?" His voice was barely a whisper.

"Of course I love you, you idiot." Your voice equally quiet. "Why else would I be standing here, begging the strongest sorcerer alive to be selfish just once?”

He made a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sigh, maybe a sob, his fingers tightening on you. "Don't," he whispered, and for the first time that morning, his voice was shaking. "Don't make this harder than it already is. Don't say things that make me want to—" He cut himself off, jaw clenching. "That make me want impossible things."

"Impossible? Since when does Satoru Gojo believe in impossible?"

"Since I realized being with you means putting you at risk." His thumb brushed your cheek, the gesture achingly gentle. "Since I understood that staying alive isn't the same as keeping you safe."

"I hate this." You shook your head. "I hate how calmly you can stand here and talk about sacrifice like it's inevitable. Like there's no other way."

"Would you prefer if I fell apart?" His smile turned sad. "If I raged and cried and promised things I might not be able to keep?"

"Yes," you admitted, your hands coming up to cover his where they still held your face. "Because at least then I'd know you want to stay as much as I want you to."

"Oh, my love." The endearment fell from his lips like a confession. "Wanting to stay has never been the question. The question is whether I can live with myself if I do."

"And what about whether I can live with myself if you don't?" Your voice broke. "What about whether I can forgive myself for not fighting harder to make you stay?"

"This isn't your fight."

"Like hell it isn't." You pulled back. "You think I spent months learning to clear battlefields just so you could take center stage? You think I perfected my technique to complement your infinity because I had nothing better to do?" You dug your nails into your palms, throat tight with fury. "I've been fighting alongside you since before you ever kissed me in that hallway. Before you ever decided I was worth protecting. Don't you dare tell me this isn't my fight when I've spent years making sure you had the space you needed to be great."

He was quiet for a long moment, studying you. When he finally spoke, his voice was soft, almost reverent. "And that's exactly why I need to go. The world doesn't need more people making space for me. It needs people who'll fill that space themselves."

You recoiled like he'd slapped you, hurt burning in your chest. "Is that what you think I've been doing? Making myself smaller for you? Made space for you because I was afraid to reach higher?" You stepped closer, deadly calm now. "I made space for you because that's what you do when you love someone."

His lips twitched into a smile. "So you do understand me."

"Don't pretend those are the same thing."

He was quiet for a moment. Then, instead of answering, he pulled you into a kiss that tasted like goodbye. Like all the tomorrows you'd never have, all the moments you'd never share, all the promises neither of you could keep. You kissed him back with everything you had — all your fury and fear and love condensed into this one perfect, terrible moment.

His hands tangled in your hair like he was trying to memorize the feeling, yours gripping his jacket as if you could keep him here through sheer force of will. When you finally broke apart, hearts pounding, foreheads pressed together in the space between one heartbeat and the next.

"I'll hate you," you whispered against his lips. "If you don't come back, I'll hate you for the rest of my life."

He pulled back just enough to look at you, and for once, his smile held an edge of something raw, something that looked almost like pain. "No, you won't."

"I will." Your fingers tightened in his jacket. "I'll hate you for making me fall in love with someone who was always planning to leave. I'll hate you for every morning I wake up alone, for every mission briefing where someone else stands in your place, for every year I have to leave flowers on your grave."

"You'll move on. You'll find someone—"

"Fuck you," you cut him off, the words sharp enough to draw blood. "Don't you dare tell me how I'll feel. Don't you dare stand here and plan out my future without you in it."

"I'm just trying to—"

"To what? Prepare me? Make it easier? There's nothing easy about loving you, Satoru Gojo. There never has been. But I chose it anyway. Every day, knowing this moment would come."

"What do you want me to do? Do you want me to say goodbye? Make it messy and painful and real?"

"I want you to stop pretending this is just another mission and show me something that tells me this is killing you like it's killing me."

The silence stretched between you like a chasm. For just a moment, beneath his careful composure, you caught a glimpse of the man behind the name — vulnerable, conflicted, maybe even afraid. But he buried it quickly, like he buried everything that might make him waver from his chosen path.

You'd always known this about him, hadn't you? Known it from that first bloody mission, from every fight where he'd put himself between the world and destruction.

Satoru Gojo was a man built for sacrifice, shaped by duty and power into something that could never truly belong to just one person. You'd fallen in love with him anyway, foolishly hoping that maybe love could be enough to make him choose differently.

But watching him now, seeing the gentle finality in every movement, you understood with crushing clarity that this was always how it would end. No amount of pleading or anger or love could change what he'd already decided.

He'd made his choice long before this morning, probably before he'd ever kissed you in that darkened hallway.

"Keep the tea warm for me," he said finally, stepping back. The words were casual, almost playful — exactly the kind of thing he'd say on any other morning. But that's what made it cruel. Even now, he was trying to soften the blow, pretending this was just another goodbye, just another mission.

You didn't say anything as he walked to the door. Didn't wish him luck or tell him to be safe. The time for those platitudes had passed.

Instead, you watched him pause in the doorway, his hand resting on the frame. For a moment, you thought he might turn around, might drop the act and let you see something real. One last true moment before the end.

He didn't fully turn, but his voice carried back to you, soft and achingly sincere. "I love you. More than anything." A pause. "That's why I have to go."

The words hit you like a physical blow, knocking the air from your lungs. You'd never expected them, had made peace with the silence between heartbeats where those words should have lived.

You'd imagined them differently, in all the quiet moments you'd shared — whispered against your skin in the dark, laughed into your mouth between kisses, murmured sleepily on lazy mornings. Not like this. Never like this.

How cruel, that he would finally say them now, when they felt more like a funeral rite than a confession. A parting gift from a man walking towards his own chosen end, making what should have been beautiful feel like another wound. The words you'd never dared hope for now hurt more than a lifetime of silence ever could.

Your throat burned with all the things you wanted to scream at him — about how love should mean staying, about how he was breaking your heart while trying to save it, about how dare he make those words sound like goodbye when they should have been a beginning.

"I hate you," you whispered.

He made a sound that might have been a laugh or might have been something more broken. "No, you don't." The certainty in his voice felt like another wound. "You love me. You said so yourself."

"I'll hate you." Your voice hardened with each word. "I'll hate you so much it'll make you wish you'd stayed."

His hand tightened on the doorframe, knuckles white with tension. For a heartbeat, you thought you'd finally cracked his composure. That he might turn around and choose you over duty, love over destiny.

He didn't.

The door closed behind him with a soft click that sounded like an ending.

"But I'll wait for you anyway," you whispered to the empty room, hating yourself for the truth in those words.

The truth was, you'd always known it would end like this, known that loving Satoru Gojo meant loving someone who belonged to the world before he belonged to you.

But you'd been naive enough to hope. Foolish enough to think that maybe, just maybe, love could be enough to make him choose differently. That your selfish desire to keep him alive and whole could outweigh his selfless need to reshape the world.

The morning light cut across the empty room, highlighting the space where he'd stood moments before, and you wondered about the cruelty of it all.

Was it wrong to want to keep him here? To ask the strongest sorcerer alive to choose personal happiness over humanity's future? How many would suffer because you'd asked him to be selfish just this once?

But then again, how many had already been saved by him? How many times had he bled and broken and pieced himself back together for a world that only saw him as a shield, never as a man? Didn't he deserve the chance to live for himself, just once?

If love died today, buried six feet under noble intentions and greater goods, then maybe hate was all you had left. And wasn't there something pure in that? In hating him with the same intensity you'd loved him? In letting that hate fill the spaces he left behind, burning away the softness until all that remained was sharp edges and bitter truths?

The world needed Satoru Gojo the symbol, the untouchable god of jujutsu. But you'd needed Satoru, just Satoru, the man who brought you tea exactly how you liked it and kissed you like you were his everything. The man who was walking away, leaving you with nothing but memories and the taste of hate on your tongue.

Was it selfish to think your love was worth more than the world's need? Was it cruel to measure the weight of one heart against humanity's future?

Love and duty were never meant to be weighed against each other like this, weren't meant to be choices that tore a person in two. And perhaps that was the real tragedy — not that he was walking away, but that you'd let yourself believe he wouldn't.

You'd known how this story would end from that very first kiss. Had tasted it in every goodbye before a mission, felt it every time you waited anxiously for his return, seen it lurking behind every smile that never quite reached his eyes.

Loving Satoru Gojo meant loving someone who was always meant to be sacrificed. You'd just been naive enough to think sacrifice could look different, that it didn't have to end with you here, choking on love turned to ash in your mouth.

Your fingers traced your lips where those three words still lingered like a curse. The tea was getting cold on the windowsill. You should pour it out, make a fresh cup. Should start preparing for a world where Satoru Gojo was just a memory, a legend, a story of sacrifice and strength. Should learn how to breathe around the thorns growing in your chest where love used to live.

Instead, you stayed frozen, caught in the space between what was and what could have been. Because maybe he was wrong. Maybe the world didn't need someone stronger. Maybe it just needed him to come back. You certainly did.

But it was too late for maybes now. He was already gone, walking toward a destiny he'd chosen long before he'd chosen you. And you were left here, caught between hating him for leaving and loving him for exactly who he was — a man who would always choose the greater good, even when it shattered both your hearts.

But perhaps the cruelest irony was that in trying to protect humanity, he'd forgotten he was human too. That in becoming everyone's shield, he'd forgotten shields could break. That hearts could break. That yours was breaking.

The sun climbed higher in the sky, indifferent to your pain, indifferent to the way your world had just walked out the door with a smile and a promise he might not be able to keep.

You'd wait anyway. Even knowing how the story was meant to end, you'd wait. Because that's what love was — not just the beautiful parts, but the ugly parts too. The waiting. The hoping. The hating.

The choosing to love someone even when they choose something else. Even when that love turns to poison in your veins.

Even when they choose the world over you.

The tea had long gone cold when you finally moved, muscles stiff from standing still for so long. You'd sworn you wouldn't watch. Had promised yourself you wouldn't be there to see him die for his greater tomorrow.

But your hands were already reaching for your jacket.

Because that was the thing about loving Satoru Gojo — even when it turned to hate, even when it felt like acid in your throat, you couldn't look away. You'd watch him fight Sukuna. Watch him smile that infuriating smile as he chose the world one last time.

After all, you'd already promised to hate him if he didn't come back.

The least you could do was be there to keep that promise.

author's note — thank you for reading this little piece of heartbreak. i was very unsure if it will ever see the light of day but i finished it now bc i was in the mood for pain. if you enjoyed, i would greatly appreciate a reblog or comment. hope your heart isn't too broken <3

ps: if you want to get notifications for future updates, you can join my taglist here!

tags — @fayuki @starmapz @saurondriell @starlightanyaaa @sxnkuna

@cocomanga @nanamis-baker @rosso-seta @shervinss @chiyokoemilia

@janbannan @bloopsstuff

© lostfracturess. do not repost, translate, or copy my work.

[millersgirl80]

Summer Spark (🔞 18+)

Pairing: BFD!Joel Miller x reader

Words: 1.2K its short 🫣

Rating: 18+

Summary: request—you and Sarah are bestfriends, and you’re staying at her house for summer break from college, and reader and Joel end up sleeping with each other

Warnings: Smut 18+

You had always looked forward to spending summer breaks at your best friend Sarah's house. It was a tradition you cherished, a time to escape the mundane college life and immerse yourself in the comfort of childhood friendship. But this year, as you stepped into their cozy home, you had a sneaking suspicion that this summer would be different.

"Hey, you're here!" Sarah's voice echoed through the house, followed by her bubbly laughter. She rushed to greet you, her bright eyes sparkling with excitement. You hugged her tightly, breathing in the familiar scent of her strawberry shampoo.

"You look amazing," she complimented, taking a step back to admire your summer dress, a light fabric that accentuated your curves. "And I see you went shopping! I like it!"

Flustered by her praise, you felt your cheeks warm. "It's all thanks to you, Sarah. You always bring out the best in me."

As you caught up on each other's lives, you couldn't help but notice the tall, broad-shouldered figure of her father, Joel, in the background. He was in his late forties, with a ruggedly handsome face and a captivating presence. He smiled warmly at you, his eyes holding a hint of mischief.

"You must be Sarah's friend," he said, his deep voice sending a shiver down your spine. "I'm Joel, her father. It's a pleasure to finally meet the young lady who's kept my daughter company over the years."

You felt your face heat up again, this time for a different reason. "The pleasure is all mine, Mr. Joel. I've heard so much about you from Sarah."

The next few days were a blur of laughter, long conversations, and shared memories. You and Sarah stayed up late, giggling like schoolgirls, while Joel often joined in, his presence adding a certain charm to your girl time. You found yourself stealing glances at him, noticing the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled, and the way his strong hands moved gracefully as he gestured while telling stories.

One afternoon, as Sarah had stepped out to run some errands, you found yourself alone with Joel in the spacious living room. The house was quiet, and the warm summer air seemed to heighten your senses.

"So, how's college life treating you?" Joel asked, his voice low and soothing. He sat beside you on the sofa, close enough that you could feel the heat radiating from his body.

"It's good, but I always look forward to these summer breaks," you replied, your voice slightly breathless. "Being here with Sarah... and you, it feels like coming home."

Joel's eyes darkened at your words, and he leaned in, his breath tickling your ear. "I'm glad you feel that way."

You swallowed hard, feeling a rush of warmth between your thighs.

Before you could process what was happening, his hand gently cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing against your soft skin. "You're so beautiful, so full of life. I can't help but admire you."

Your heart pounded in your chest, and you found yourself leaning into his touch. "Joel..." you whispered, your voice hoarse with desire.

He pulled you closer, his lips finding yours in a searing kiss. The taste of him was intoxicating—a mix of coffee and something uniquely him. His tongue danced with yours, exploring, demanding, and you responded eagerly, your hands clutching at his shirt.

Breaking the kiss, he trailed wet kisses down your neck, his hands roaming over your body, mapping your curves. "You have no idea how hard it's been to resist you."

You gasped as his fingers deftly unbuttoned your dress, revealing your lace bra and the swell of your breasts. "Joel, we can't... Sarah..."

"Shh..." He silenced you with another kiss, his hand sliding down to cup your breast, thumb teasing your nipple through the lace. "Let's not think about anything else right now. Just you and me."

His skilled fingers unhooked your bra, and your breasts spilled into his waiting hands. He worshipped them, squeezing and kneading, his thumbs rubbing over your sensitive nipples until they hardened into tight peaks. Moans escaped your lips, filling the room with a symphony of desire.

"You're so responsive," he growled, his breath hot on your skin. "I want to hear you scream my name."

He lifted you onto his lap, positioning your legs on either side of his muscular thighs. You could feel his hardness pressing against your core, a tantalizing promise of what was to come. His hands gripped your hips, guiding you as you slowly lowered yourself onto his length.

You cried out as he filled you, inch by delicious inch. His thick cock stretched you, eliciting sensations you'd never experienced before. You began to move, riding him with a rhythm that built from slow and sensual to frenzied and wild.

"Fuck, you're tight," he grunted, his hands gripping your ass, urging you on. "Ride me, baby, ride my cock."

His words spurred you on, and you bounced on his lap, your breasts bouncing in time with your movements. You reached down, rubbing your clit as he thrust up to meet your descent, the friction sending sparks of pleasure through your body.

"I'm close..." you panted, your orgasm building to an explosive peak.

"Not yet," he commanded, his voice strained. "I want to feel you come around my cock."

He stood up, still buried deep inside you, and carried you to the nearby dining table. Laying you down on the smooth surface, he spread your legs wide, exposing your glistening pussy.

Kneeling between your thighs, he buried his face between your legs, his tongue laving your sensitive flesh. He ate you with a hunger that mirrored your own, his tongue flicking your clit, driving you to the brink of ecstasy.

"Oh God, Joel!" you cried out, your fingers tangling in his hair as he devoured you.

His eyes never leaving yours as he positioned himself at your entrance. With one swift thrust, he impaled you on his shaft, filling you so completely that you screamed in pleasure.

He pounded into you, the table creaking with each powerful stroke. His eyes locked with yours, the intensity of his gaze mirroring the intensity of his thrusts. You could see the desire and lust burning in his eyes, a reflection of the fire raging within you.

"You're so fucking wet, so tight around my cock," he grunted, his voice rough with passion. "I'm gonna make you come so hard."

He reached between your bodies, his fingers joining his cock in your slick heat. He rubbed your clit in firm circles, his rhythm perfectly matching his thrusts. Your body tensed, every muscle tightening as you soared towards the edge of bliss.

"Yes, yes, YES!" you screamed, your body convulsing around him as your orgasm exploded through you.

Joel groaned, his hips snapping forward one last time as he emptied his load deep inside you, his hot cum mixing with your juices. He collapsed onto you, his breath ragged against your neck.

As your heart rates slowed, you realized what you had just done. You had just engaged in the most mind-blowing sex of your life with your best friend's father.

"We can't tell Sarah about this," he whispered, his voice laced with concern. "But I can't deny that I want more of this. I want you, and I'm willing to do whatever it takes to have you."

You looked into his eyes, seeing the raw desire and the hint of something more—something that went beyond physical attraction. "I want you too, Joel. But we need to be careful. We can't risk hurting Sarah."

“Won't say a word, Stays between us baby.” Joel kisses your head and finishes cleaning you up, helping you get dressed.

[ayrtonswnna]

hello there!

Can I request a Franco x reader? But where Ayrton Senna is alive in this universe and the reader is Senna? If not, then fine. It's up to you. Thanks in advance 😊😊

ʚɞ a/n: that is my moment!!!!!!!! i often imagine how would it be to have ayrton in contemporary scenarios it's unhealthy lol. i really think he'd be full of jokes and a fun guy just like he was off track. thanks for the request, it was a real nice one to write! (and if anyone has any senna request, i'll be more tham happy to take it! (i'm even willing to write stuff with senna himself))

ʚïɞ "you got me good" FC43

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀↳ masterlist ↳ drop a request! ↳ more franco fluff!

✧₊⁺ franco colapinto x cecília senna (senna!female oc)

✧₊⁺ word count: 1,6k⠀⠀⠀⠀✧₊⁺, gender: crack, fluff.

✧₊⁺ summary: franco and cecília kept a secret relationship and when they decide to come clean, her father was ahead of it and he's a total menace.

✧₊⁺ warnings: alternative universe where that may 1th 1994 didn't happen and ayrton grew old like he deserved to, my hyper focus on that man shown in references, a bit of portuguese properly translated, kinda short and poorly contextualized, curse words, franco is a baby, just soft and light content for the win.

"What do you mean he doesn't know about it?"

Franco took a deep breath, massaging his own scalp as his friend and co-worker continued talking, a mix of excitement and judgment in his words.

"You are not making this any better," he mouthed.

"You are dating his daughter! You are da-ting. The man's daughter. Like... The man's daughter. The hell haven't you met her family!?"

"I am scared, okay!? If I get rejected by her family... It's not just my girlfriend's family. It's simply Senna himself! Should I what!? Drop the job? Hide in a cave?"

Alex laughed, the words and the tone easing the tension. The guy was worried to death and things might be simpler than he thought. Everyone knew Senna was a fun person.

Dating Cecília Senna felt almost like marrying into royalty. It's a good feeling, though. Bagging Cecília Senna could easily be added to one of Franco's big achievements — and he's a former F2 driver called in last minute to fill a Formula One seat — and he's doing great.

But still, it's Cecília Senna, the only child of a legend, someone he looked up to growing up, someone he saw in the paddock many times before ending up in his daughter's sheets.

"Hello, everyone!"

God, his heart might have dropped to the floor just now. The retired driver walked into the garage happily, with his daughter attached to his arm and waving familiarly.

Everyone gathered around them immediately, though Cecília's eyes instantly met Franco's. She knew he was scared and had made fun of him until she couldn't anymore, teasing him in every way she could.

"I've heard the news on the Argentinian! You guys are lucky you got away easily!"

Alright, it's time to pray. What news? That he's fucking his daughter? That they meet every week? That she wanted a Williams' box pass so badly just because of him? Or... That they hid it from everyone just to gain a bit more time?

"We got quality, mate! That's it." Vowels took his cue to fill in the blank, the people dispersing and going back to their work. "Found the kid sparring and made him a beast."

"Yeah, of course," the Brazilian laughed. "What's up, buddy! Feeling the pressure?"

Franco mentally cursed Cecília for raising her eyebrows and doubling the meaning of the question, but he managed to stand up and dry his sweaty hands on his pants.

"I try not to, honestly. Not... think about it a lot," he said, feeling he could have worded the sentence a bit better as they shook hands.

"That's the spirit! I heard a lot about you, little man. Do you know my daughter? Cecília?"

Tricky question. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Tricky question.

If he had heard about it, then he knew about them. Franco could say "yes" and end up with a lecture, or say "no" and be caught in a lie.

"You guys think you are smart, huh? Fooling around, hiding from cameras..."

Oh, it's over. It's over for him. The "drop the job and hide in a cave" plan was almost running in his veins right now. Maybe he should Sebastian Vettel his way around, retire early, and move to a countryside home in Switzerland. Yes, that's a good plan.

"Pai... Para com isso." Cecília shoved her dad's side, rolling her eyes. (Dad... Stop that.)

"What? You guys thought you got away with it?"

"Pai! Ele tá ficando sem graça!" she insisted. (Dad! He's getting uncomfortable!)

Franco thought of speaking up, but the nerves were all up and maybe he should let it be.

"Yeah! He should!" Ayrton still had a serious look on his face, making Franco shiver.

"Pai, sério." (Dad, I'm serious.)

"Sir, I know it—"

"Come on, Franquinho! I'm fooling around, take that scared look off your face!" In a matter of seconds, Ayrton's grin turned into a playful smile, and his arm was hooked over Franco's shoulder, messing up his hair and leaving him even more confused. "Did I scare you? You should have seen your eyes!"

Franco laughed, still a bit dulled. That was a big one.

"You're a bastard," Cecília rolled her eyes once again, aware of the father she had.

The man was a natural jokester, full of little jokes and loved making uncomfortable scenarios in the name of fun. He was a handful.

"And you guys should have told me about this before! You lost it all, Franquinho. Angra, the travels... You need to be introduced to the family!"

He had heard about Angra; the beach house Cecília went to every now and then, how much she and her father loved the place. He even saw an old interview where Ayrton said that his retirement plans included being "Angra's nature inspector."

"Yeah- Yeah, sim." Franco risked some Portuguese, patting Ayrton on the back before they both stepped apart. "Sorry for... for taking too long to meet you, I was- Damn, you got me good."

"I could see!" Senna didn't waste a single laugh. "Don't worry, little boy. You're a good investment. And Cecília is pretty happy, so... you got my support."

"I'm even happier to hear it." Franco chuckled. "Thank you, very much. Your daughter also makes me really happy."

"Of course! Her bad jokes make everyone laugh." Ayrton kept the teasing going. "Now you better show me some racing! I've been in your place and to keep the daughter you need to be as good as dad!"

"You should have seen your face, baby!"

Franco glanced at his girlfriend as he turned his head, their first alone time since the morning's humiliation session.

"I don't wanna talk about it," he mouthed, shirt off and focus switching. "That was traumatizing."

"I told you he's a clown." Her shoulders went up a bit. "But he wasn't lying at the end! He likes you!"

"I got that part. Now I know where you got that dark humor from." The blue-eyed boy stood in the middle of his room, hands on his waist as he let his girlfriend use her eyes.

"What can I say? I am my father's daughter." She smiled mischievously. "He wants you to spend some time, though. Before Vegas, maybe?"

"I could've Max Verstappen my way around and have stayed for the week... But we waited until your dad could scare me to death in the middle of the box so... Yeah, it can be next week." He started simple, voice steady.

But then Cecília approached and her hands liked to touch. All over his torso while she traced a good way for his hair.

"You ain't seen nothing yet." The smile was still on her face, lips coming closer and closer to his. "But I am really happy, you know? Now we can just be and enjoy some time... I can take you to Angra, and I don't need to hide in your driver's room. I was done with pretending I was investing in Williams just so I had a reason to watch the races here."

"Told you about it... You could afford my seat."

Another joke. Ever since he got into F1 as an emergency call, she did say she only had to call her dad and his 2025 seat would be secured.

"You're gonna get it because you deserve it, I am not affording that." She flashed her eyelashes, rimming a single syllable as his hands also started to travel.

Inside her expensive shirt, up and down her back in good pressure before they found room at her waist.

"You know what else I deserve?"

"You freak! Go shower and I'll be waiting for you outside. My dad is around!"

It took them no time. Within weeks, Ayrton and Franco became partners in crime, and suddenly, Cecília was having a taste of her own medicine.

"Turn it off! Now!" Ayrton whispered in a screaming tone, the last signal Franco needed before turning off the power for the whole house.

Cecília had just come back from the beach and Franco finally knew the Angra house. It was dark, and the prank was not very well planned.

"Porra." (Shit.) they heard the Brazilian swearing. "Que inferno, de novo? PAAAAI?" (What the hell, again? DAAAAD?)

He knew some words in Portuguese and it only made it funnier. Him and his father-in-law were hiding in the small laundry room as Cecília searched for them.

"Ready, kid?"

"No, but I'll do it anyways."

"Good kid. You're a great one." The old man, as a new custom, messed with the Argentinian's hair, before opening the door and waiting for him to leave.

"Eu juro, se vocês estiverem armando pra cima de mim eu— Ah— FRANCO! NO!" (I swear, if you guys are planning something against me I—)

He's fast even with his limited knowledge about the furniture in the house, walking in the dark before he could lift her and throw her over his shoulder.

It's the fourth time she's thrown in the pool and she just knows it's her father opening the glass door for the exterior area before she's sinking in cold water.

"I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU ALL!" Cecília screamed. "I JUST WASHED MY HAIR! OH MY GOD! PUTTING YOU TWO TOGETHER WAS THE WORST THING I EVER DID!"

"Não reclama, princesinha..." (Don't you complain, little princess...) her father played, now standing besides her boyfriend. "Bate aqui, you passed the test. Welcome to the family." (High five,)

"I hate you guys. Eu odeio vocês, los odio. Whatever. Don't ever talk to me again." Cecília stomped her way out of the pool, walking straight past them.

"Don't get mad, baby... It's just a joke!"

"Well, boy... It's your girlfriend. Go ease her nerves. You're called Colapinto for a reason."

ʚïɞ ayrtonswnna, 2024. check my masterlist or drop a request (: reblogs and feedback are always welcome (:

[leniisreallycool]

Colors

A knock on the doorframe of you open door disturbs you from your concentration. You look up to see Lucifer standing there, a concerned expression twisting his lips in a slight frown.

"Something wrong?" you say, breaking the slience.

He crosses his arms. "Nothing serious, but earlier Beel mentioned that you're colorblind. Why didn't you say anything sooner? We could have made better accommodations."

"What are you talking about? I'm not colorblind." You swivel your chain to face him, thoroughly confused. "Why would Beel say that?"

He frowns deeper. "He's certain that you are. If I remember correctly, he said you couldn't differentiate between red and *****. Apparently you tried to eat an unripe Devilberry, which are red when ripe."

You blink. "Sorry, red and what?"

Lucifer repeats the word, and now you're certain it's not one you know. "The fruit naturally starts out that way, then turns red as they ripen. I believe Satan posted a list of foods that are poisonous to humans on the refrigerator, which you must have seen when taking the berries."

"Yeah, I know the list is there. But the berries were red. I wouldn't have taken them if they weren't. The unripe ones are poison." Is he messing with you?

Lucifer shakes his head. "No, red is a very different color. I suppose Beel must have been correct in his assessment."

"What? No, I've taken tests, I have a good eye for color. I don't know what word you said, but that's not a real color." He has to be messing with you.

Before he can respond, Asmo bursts into the room and throws his arms around you. "Oh you poor darling, missing out this whole time! I didn't realize you couldn't appreciate my true beauty!"

You don't have time to formulate a reply as Mammon and Levi both barrel past Lucifer, who stumbles a bit before regaining his balance. Mammon hugs you tightly from behind over the back of your chair, ignoring the awkward angle he has to lean.

Levi sits on you and pokes your face a little too close to your eyes and you swat his hands off. For once, you pushing him back doesn't seem to bother him. "So that's why you suck at Devilcart - you've been playing severely impaired! Don't worry, Henry, I'll adjust the color settings so you can see better next time."

"Back off, clingy! They just discovered their vision is piss poor, can't you see they're distressed?!"

"You're the only one stressing them out, loudmouth," Belphie says, taking a seat at your knees, leaning his head against them. You hadn't even noticed him entering the room.

Beel stands in the doorway next to Lucifer, looking sufficiently apologetic for unleashing his brothers on you while you were trying to study. "I told Satan too, but he went to the royal library to figure out what colors humans are supposed to see. He said humans usually see ***** as red and wanted to double check."

"Well, I still have no idea what word you guys keep saying, but it's not one I know. And yeah, as far as I could tell, those Devilberries were red."

Immediately, all six of them gave you identical pitying looks. This is ridiculous. Three of the four cuddling you immediately chatter over each other, all competing for who was being most empathetic to your newfound inability.

"So this whole time, every time you've been poisoned in potions class, or wherever else due to a misunderstanding of ingredients, it's because humans can't see that part of the light spectrum. Their brains just interpret it as the most convenient color rather than actually processing it as it is," Satan explains, stepping around Beel, nose buried in a leather-bound tome that looked at least four centuries old.

"That was fast. Beel said you just left," you say, deciding to be unbothered by the situation.

Satan nods. "I already knew where the book was; I just had to grab it and come back."

"Wait wait wait - are you saying no human can properly appreciate my beauty? Not even Solomon?" Asmo detangles his arm from you long enough to 'faint'.

"Can you quit yappin' about yourself when MC is having a crisis over here?! They clearly don't need the extra hassle!"

"You're the loud one, Stupidmammon! STFU and back off!"

"Oh, you know, I forgot that other things can see colors humans can't, and vice versa. I guess demons can see a larger portion of the light spectrum?" you reply, completely ignoring the drama trio. "Humans can see from red to purple, nothing further on either side. I think there are colors we recognize as being real when that's not what they should look like, like yellow, but I can't remember more than that."

"I don't know what you mean by that, but this book does mention that humans can see a very limited range of colors. Even shrimps can see more than humans, which is odd, given how inferior the species is," Satan explains.

You've been living in the Devildom for a while now. You're used to the batshit insane shenanigans they get themselves into daily. But for some reason, Satan, one of the most powerful demons in existence, one of the great tempters of mankind and one of the few demons most humans believe in, saying 'shrimps' set you off giggling like a maniac.

"We're not doing this again-" "Oh HELL no, it was terrifying and creepy enough last time-" "Predictable weird humanness-" "They were fine last time-" "Is laughing just how humans cope with stress?"

With a heavy sigh, Lucifer strides over and easily hefts you out of your chair and away from the four leeches like a parent lifts their toddler from a highchair. He sets you down a little distance away from them, giving you space to collect yourself.

The brother disperse not long after that, the novelty of your apparent colorblindness already wearing off.

The next day, however, Asmo drags you with him to the mall, saying he needed your help with an experiment. And that's how Asmo discovered that humans can't see ultraviolet and that most of his favorite colors either look like a basic blue or purple, and that you genuinely think ***** looks good on him (it does just like everything else, but it's so not his color, hun).

[cvnt4him]

Wardrobe malfunction. ᯓ Izuku x kirishima

synopsis ᯓ ❝ you're on your way to check up on your friends to see if they've gotten all suited up in their Mirko outfits for the photoshoot, you see one of them had a bit of trouble..izuku being the helpful guy he is, he offers the red haired foe a hand,.. things get a little..too handy in the meantime..❞

warnings ➪ m!sub, soft!dom zuzu, mm4f, anal, oral m recieve, fingering, spit mention, slight hair pulling

day 9; ೃ࿔ 𝑐𝑣𝑛𝑡𝑠 𝔨𝔦𝔫𝔨𝔱𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔯!

Your former classmates back in highschool and you were getting ready to do a photoshoot you all done once before; a reunion type of thing. You were honoring and representing the infamous pro hero Mirko by wearing her hero outfit.

Once you were all suited up, your makeup and hair done so nicely, you ready yourself to check on your peers. Walking down the halls you check on most to all of your friends. Peeping in their dressing rooms to assure they're alright and other things.

“ everything good in here?”

“ better than ever!!”

Your friend mina said, you give her a warm smile before closing the door behind you.

You soon then walk to midoriya's dressing room, you knock gently and call out to check on him only to get no response.

“ I'm coming in...”

You open the door to an empty dressing room. That's rather odd? Maybe he was by the snack bar? You hear a sudden chatter in the dressing room down the hall and walk towards the noise.

“ kirishima.. maybe he's seen deku?”

You peek your ear at the door,...not to eavesdrop just to.....listen..quietly.

“ these measurements...it's a shame after all these years they still haven't gotten mine right..”

“ hmm, what do you mean kiri?”

“ just that I spill out in certain.....places...”

“ ahh, I see...”

“ i thought they gave you a bigger suit this time to fix it...here let me see..”

“ I mean it's just embarrassing... I don't understand how they keep messing it up.....”

You hum to yourself and slowly open the door with a knock before announcing yourself.

“ uh- hey, is everything alright in here?”

“ oh! y/n, hello! now isn't... a good time.. come back later?”

“ oh. I see well, I can come back another ti— ”

“ what no! c’mon let her stay! we could use the extra company!”

“ well.. I just figured since your suit is uhm......,

The green hair maled paused as he looked kirishima up and down with a nervous smile.

-,th-that maybe you would need some privacy..?”

“ nah it's all good! come on in y/n!”

You smile at the friendly giant and welcome yourself into his dressing room. You close the door behind you as you stand next to deku and offer him a polite smile. To no surprise he gives you one right back.

“ so, uh, whats going on-.. woah.”

“ oh kirishima...”

“ I've got it fixed see!”

The red haired male turns away from the mirror to show you both how he "fixed" his situation.

Neither of you dare to look away just staring at the man's crotch. Izuku was quite flustered unknowing of what to do or even to say. You were in the same boat, how were you supposed to speak when this guys cock was literally bulging against the suit; he wasn't even hard?!

“ you really have no shame, huh.”

“ shame? nah man! shames unmanly!”

Well..you gotta respect his morals. He was cute to say the least, his die hard attitude and constant cheery personality. It was different and definitely comfortable to be around. He was a naturally positive guy. You couldn't help but smile at his words.

“ you look amazing y/n! like a cute little bunny!”

Izuku was quick to agree complimenting and pointing out small details that suits your body so well before realizing what he was saying and saying away. Idiots

“ well, I'm glad they at least got your measurements right.. they can never seem to get mine accurate.”

“ you're a big guy, you seem to get bigger every time I see you haha!”

“ y'know she's not wrong kiri.”

“ it seems to fit you everywhere but uhm... there. I can help if you'd like!”

Izuku hums to himself before offering a helping hand. Kirishima was quickly flushed but soon agreed.

Wow.

You watched as izuku walked towards him and got down on his knees slowly in front of the man, eyes never leaving his. Kirishima gulped down and izukus hand raised to approach his crotch before he suddenly stopped.

“ uh, do you mind if I....?”

“ oh.. i- uh- uhm! no.. nope! go right ahead..!”

Izuku smiled for a quick second as an okay before he began trying to "help" the larger male. Your eyes widened in surprise. You were seriously watching your male friend sit with his face directly centered at your other male friends...dick. albeit clothed, but still.

It was an interesting watch to say the least. You felt slightly guilty... Should you turn away.. is-, is that most respectful? Is this something you shouldn't be watching orrr....

“ what uhm.. are you gonna do bro...?”

“ hmm... well, this is gonna sound very awkward but uh...,

Izuku looked down quickly then back up to kirishimas eyes.

have you ever uhm.. considered tucking?”

“ tucking?”

Holy hell.. quite the conversation. You choked on your spit at the mention. You wouldn't lie, you were intensely curious on why and how izuku knew what it was. Not that he was dumb or anything it's just not something you would imagine him needing to know. Or even knowing for that matter,... Or even recommending it to others?!

They both looked at you as you coughed concerned if you were alright, you caught your breath and gave them a thumbs up before their attention turned back to one another.

“ d..don't ask me how I know what it is but; it's where you uhm..tuck your "bits" so it gives you a flat appearance!”

“ it's just that....kirishima, you're very uhm. well endowed? I really think it could help.”

He explained it perfectly. You were too damn curious.

“ hm.. never heard of it...,”

“ yeah, how do you even know what that is, izuku?”

You tease questioning the man on his knees. He squeezed at the question slowly turning back to look at you with nervous eyes and a just as nervous chuckle before stammering on his words.

“ yeah, I'll try it.”

Kirishima was deep in thought before finally speaking up and causing izuku to shut up. Which izuku was thankful for.

“ oh, midoriya are you alright? your face is very red..”

“ y- yeah yeah! haha, I'm fine.. just.... here, let me help...”

“ m..midoriya....”

“ hang in there for me, kirishima..”

Fucking hell. Izuku was literally about to touch kirishimas cock. You gulped down and looked away turning your head and using your hand to half ass cover your vision. You admired the ceiling and even the mirror lights trying your hardest to ignore the little sounds you heard from the larger male.

Kirishima was utterly flustered, he didn't know what to do while izuku touched him gently. Izuku tried his hardest to get it done as quick as possible, y'know trying to help a friend out! But it didn't turn out as planned....

“ oh.. uhm, kirishima are you...hard?”

Fuck...

“ ah! uh- uhm, here! let me uh— ahem! Do that!”

You felt so out of place while everything went down; as you should feel. Yet you ridicule yourself for feeling a swirly feeling in your stomach...it's not like you wanted to see kirishimas cock hard or anything. Haha...hah.

Izuku looked up at the red haired male who quickly pulled away from izuku and turned around. He had such an non judgemental look in his wide green eyes. To be fair, it did look like he had nothing on his mind half the time when he looked at people with those big ass eyes but still.

“ im sorry it's just... uhm.. it's been a long time since..”

“ your hand is uhm.. surprisingly soft and,”

Izuku stood to his feet with a small snicker and a sweet smile.

“ oh, haha! thanks?”

You turned your gaze back and looked izuku up and down with a small smirk. He looked at you and blushed before rolling his eyes, his smile still present.

You look to kirishima who was a flustered mess, he was terribly red and trying his hardest to regain his composure.

“ it uhm... was my quirk guys, t.. totally..”

The look you and izuku gave each other then him was diabolical.

“ d.. don't look at me like that you guys!”

You both laugh to yourselves as kirishima buried his face in his hands with the tape. He groaned lowly and embarrassemingly.

“ y'know..”

You start, gaining both of their attentions with ease. You hum to yourself before a quick little grin appeared on your face.

“ there's no way you can tuck if you're hard.”

Izuku hummed as kirishima averted his gaze from the both of you, still very red and very embarrassed.

“ you're right.. we won't get anywhere if hes uhm, like that.”

“ what do you propose we do?”

Kirishima scoffs to himself before speaking,

“ well, there is one way I know that could get it down quickly heh, too bad we can't do that here huh?”

He jokes around with a small smile before looking to the two of you.

Izuku thinks and turns to you which causes you to smirk. The evil smirk that plastered across his freckled face was so damn hot, he looked like some sexy hero turned evil.

“ wait, wait ,wait, wait, what are you two looking at each other like that for...”

The freckled male chuckles lightly before turning to kirishima,

“ kiri, why don't you sit on the couch for us, hm?”

He points to the couch behind him and kirishima nods with a shaky breath and complies.

“ is this seriously happening..”

“ we can help you, if you'd like of course. there's no way we can send you out there while you're all... pent up.”

“ of course I'd let you! you both are sexy as hell, id let you both do whatever you wanted to me...”

A satisfied sigh left izuku as he peered down at the spiky haired male with pure lust covering his eyes; it was as if he was taken over by some sort of Incubus.

You smiled and stood beside izuku following his mead in this crazy escapade.

“ but..what do you want to do to me...”

Once again you two looked at each other a small nod being exchanged between the two.

“ well...”

“ we could.. get down on our knees, just like this.....”

Izuku says in a soft and sultry tone, slowly going down to his knees as you did the same, both of you in either side of his legs. Izukus hand on his knee.

“ then.....we could run our hands up your inner thighs, y'know where it's super.. sensitive.”

Izuku grabs your hand and places his on top, trailing it up and down his inner thigh next to his hardend bulge gently. Kirishima wasn't lying when he said izukus hands were soft.

Kirishima groaned quietly, covering his mouth with his hand to not let the shaky whimper out of hie mouth. It was as if izuku was extremely pleased with the way kirishima reacted beneath the two of you.

Izukus eyes trailed down to kirishimas cock as it twitched violently, the giggle that escaped izuku was not surprising, but shocking. He sighed and admired the sight in front of him.

“ we might have to hurry and get you out of the suit before you leak through it, hm?”

“ oh.. yeah for...for sure.”

It was more than obvious kirishimas was aching inside of the suir, his thick cock bulging against it, twitching and yearning to be touched. Izuku hummed and with tiur hands in his he placed both on top of kirishimas cock so you could feel the way it jerked up into your touch, the warmth of your palms.

You were shocked by his act of boldness, turning your gaze to the green haired male who was already looking at you with glazed over eyes, he wanted this, badly at that. Possibly just as bad ad kirishima clearly did he was just better at keeping his needs composed.

He gently rubbed your hands across kirishimas cock making him wince, he groaned lightly and closed his eyes. Neither of you noticed it but your faces were slowly moving closer to each other. Izukus eyes trailed down to your lips, gently biting his own as he quickly captured yours.

Kirishima opened his eyes to the sight of you two kissing, it was a slow yet passionate kiss. Izuku let out little mewls as you let his tongue invade your mouth, tongues swishing and swirling together as izuku peeked his eyes open a little to see. He was blushing furiously.

Kirishimas cock, unsurprisingly, leaked through the suit and got onto your hand causing you to stop the kiss and pull away, not only that but you had to catch your breath. Who knew izuku was an aggressive and needy kisser. Izuku tried his hardest to follow your lips, not wanting the kiss to end.

“ we should,.. hurry and get him out of the suit.”

“ yeah, you're right...”

Just as you both were about to remove it you all heard a loud boom and yelling coming from the other side of the door, and possibly the other side of the building. You jumped as izukus eyes shot to the door in a heroic instant, it's like he was scanning the other side of the room without even seeing through anything. His reflexes and instincts were like a dog, very assertive and on point.

Kirishima who was so blinded by lust and need he could hardly register what was going on, poor baby.

“ wait..maybe we should uh... check to see how much t..time we have.”

Izukus eyes turned back to kirishima as he seemed kind of disappointed.

“ yeah... uh- I mean, uhm yeah! y..you're right!”

“ hang on, let me text kaminari to see.”

They both agree and give you a moment, you stand and sit beside kirishima and izuku does the same. You text the blonde and question what was going and if he heard that loud noise ect ect.

You both text back and forth before he sends you a picture that causes you to snort aloud confusing the two men beside you.

“ what's going on?”

They both say in unison, looking at each other before back to you.

“ sorry sorry, I just.. pfft- katsukis lame ass!”

Denki had sent you a video of dynamite yelling at one of the workers trying to help him with the suit, according to denki they got his measurements wrong and made it way too big and he took it as a huge insult assuming they were thinking he was just blatantly fat and shit. Plus he hadn't eaten much so he was hangry as fuck.

They both chuckled and izuku couldn't help but to apologize for the angry blonde actions.

“ yeah that sounds like kacchan alright haha...sorry guys!”

“ did kaminari say how much time we had left?”

You had completely forgotten.

“ oh! Yeah, supposedly they ordered food and it's taking a long ass time to get here due to the doid not even being made yet, plus traffic and katsuki ssid he wasn't doing shit until hes eaten so, about an hour? hour and a half?”

“ maybe even longer depending on how much angrier katsuki gets”

“ hm that is true... so then we should be good for the time being, right?”

You nod in confirmation placing your phone down and facing the boys.

“ so do you guys still?”

Kirishima looked weary but nodded hesitantly, you give a quick nod and that was the confirmation izuku was looking for. He gives you both a soft warm smile.

Izuku crawls back down to kirishimas knees getting ready to do lord knows what before kirishima suddenly halts.

“ wait..before we do anything,.... what does this like, make us?”

Izukus eyes immediately widened at the question blinking a couple of times before turning to you then back to the man above him.

“ because, I would seriously take you both out on a date after this. If you want, that is.”

It wasn't like you exactly minded at all. Food sounded nice and why not do it with two hot guys who just do happen to be your friends and just so happen to be okay with everything going down? You shrug your shoulders and leave it at that.

Izuku hums and looks into the sky as if he were thinking. He bites his lower lip before speaking,

“ oh, well. I suppose we can talk more about that later, a date doesn't sound quite that bad.”

“ great! but uh, of course later right now I'm feeling a bit...antsy.”

Izuku chuckles sweetly with a smile.

“ we can tell, you're twitching through the suit~”

Izuku teased the man above which causes him flush with a nervous laugh.

“ so..”

you start, awaiting for something to happen.

“ can I uh...move your suit to the side, kirishima?”

Izuku asks in more of a pleasing manner, his voice soft and sweet as he asks for such a thing. Izuku managed to make inappropriate things seem so easy and light-hearted.

“ you two don't have to ask anymore, just go right ahead.”

With that, izuku scooter even closer to kirishimas cock slowly inching his hands up to his hardened and strained cock. He gently pet the thick base of his cock through the fabric with his pointer finger making kirishima jolt up with a hushed gasp.

Quickly izuku hooked his finger through the edge of his suit and pulled it to the side like it were a pair of panties. Kirishimas thick cock quickly sprung to life and slapped against his pelvis.

Both of your eyes blew wide at the side, he wasn't exactly maintained down there but he wasn't too wild either,

It wasn't too much to bear of course, not that something like that'd stop either of you.

Izukus breath shuddered and his eyes pupils instantly enlarged. He was once again blinded by sheer lust, he bit his lip and looked at his cock like it was the last piece of meat on this earth.

Izuku muttered lowly and breathily to himself, the sheer length and girth of the larger man was intimidating.

He gulped down the little spit he had in his mouth, it was as if it were drying up at the sight. He sighs and turns to you before asking;

“ hey uh, hun, do...,do you wanna share him with me?”

“ I mean.. he's more than big enough.”

Kirishimas breath hitched at the question, the eager nod you gave izuku was too adorable, his cock twitched against his thigh, it was so thick it could hardly stand up on its own. Not to mention the length of it...izuku would need the help anyway.

“ watch closely... we're going to take good care of you..”

Izuku said as he lowered his mouth down slowly in his tip, you instantly crawled in and suckled on the base of his cock, sucking gently and you move your mouth up and down his veiny thength.

“ oh- god..”

Izuku hummed around his tip, fluttering his eyes closed momentarily savoring the taste of his or cum that beaded at the slit. He swiped his tongue causing kirishima to wince and squint his eyes as if he were hurt. Izuku chuckles at the reaction.

You move your mouth down to his balls and glide your tongue across the flesh, suckling one into your mouth quite harshly. He groaned deeply, the sound practically shooting out of him.

kirishimas breaths were quivering. His eyes frantic and leering down at the two of you. Sweat began forming at his furrowed brows. He couldn't believe this was actually happening.

A sharp breath escaped from the man as izuku swiped his tongue over his large tip. His tongue swirling and paying close attention to it.

“ is it..good? are we doing good?”

Izuku spoke with a muffled speech, spit visible on his lower lip as he peered up at kirishima with blown wide eyes. Those gorgeous green eyes didn't want kirishima to look away from his.

Kirishima swallowed thickly as he shakily nodded. You kept paying attention to the base of his cock, letting your tongue trace a very prominent vein while izuku stroked his tip and spoke. You let your hands fondle his balls in a gentle manner causing his eyes to roll back.

“ you're both so..fuck...”

Kirishima could hardly speak with the ungodly things you both were doing to him. The absolute divine things you were making him feel. His words were unsure and shaky.

Izuku hummed around kirishimas cock before you both moved around a lot more, exploring new things to do as your tongues danced together around his cock. Kirishima let out a gutteral groans, you could tell by the way his cock was painstakingly red and twitching for more that he was close.

“ shit.. I think I....—”

“ not yet kirishima.”

“ hang in there for us. we have more than enough time so...why rush?”

Izuku was quick to say. Izuku was very observant, he paid close attention to little things that others wouldn't. He knew little things that would make kirishima fold and shake underneath you both.

It was odd to see izuku "laying down the law" and being quite stern. But you understand, this was quite fun and you hadn't wanted it to end so quickly either.

“ ill be honest...I've, wanted to do something like this with you both for a while...”

“ really..?”

Izuku hummed in response as he continued stroking his cock before going down on him once more.

“ fuck just like that..please it feels so good..”

Kirishima bucked his hips up towards your mouths with a whiney muffled moan, he couldn't take his eyes away for the wonderful escapade happening for him.

“ you two look so pretty like this...taking my cock so, so well.”

He lightly praised the both of you as he let one of his hands come down and stroke your hair, you closed your eyes in response to the positive feeling. It made you feel something deep in your core. Of course you were needy, you'd be crazy if this whole thing hadn't made you feel something.

Izuku had seemed to really be getting into the groove of it. You pulled away momentarily only for izuku to swallow kirishima whole. Of course he didn't completely deep throat him as kirishima is huge. Like..huge. but he began bobbing his head up and down rhythmically. It was such an enticing view, izuku losing himself in giving another man, your best friend, head.

You bit your lip and couldn't help watching the scene. Izuku soon noticed you didn't try to push him away or even come back you just watched. He quickly pulled away to speak.

“ hold on..i have an idea.”

He said softly. He grabbed both of your attention before quickly speaking seeing as you both were eager and hadn't wanted to stall any longer..

“ love, how about I move your suit to the side and finger you? get you nice and ready to take him.”

It was as if you practically jumped up at the proposal, excited and awaiting for something like this. You nodded in such an eager agreement making izuku chuckle lowly and stroke your cheek at the adorableness.

“ and then, kirishima, you can keep fucking my throat. just until she's ready.”

“ we're uh, going that far huh? yeah.. okay.”

Izuku hummed and hurriedly moved your suit to the side and gently ran his thumb across your folds getting a quick feel of things. He bit his lip and just watched for a moment as he softly played with you.

You let out such heavenly noises that went straight to izukus achingly hard cock, izuku would be a lie if he said he didn't want to pounce on you. But he wanted kirishima to have a turn with you.

Izuku looked up at you with a quick warm smile before turning to kirishima. His eyes were dark and full of greed.

“ please, kirishima...fuck my throat more..?”

Kiris cock twitched at the sheer sound of desperation and need that was laced in izukus voice. He groaned at the sight in front of him and reached for izukus head, running his hands through his hair and slightly bringing him closer.

Izuku was quick to take kirishimas cock down. Harshly slurping and suckling on his thick cock. His brows furrowed together as he struggled to take him entirely in his mouth but he did it. Such sweet mewls leaving izukus mouth. Your moans and quiet breaths along with kirishimas much louder ones were egging him on. He wanted to see just how far he could truly take it.

Watching izuku take kirishima down was quite the sight, he was eager and hungry for it. You grabbed his hand and tried to push his finger deeper. At the touch of you he decided to add two extras for you. Plugging you with three of his fingers and moving them at a steady pace, not too slow but just fast enough to satiate you for now.

Spit had began dripping from the sides of izukus mouth and kind of down his chin. He was getting restless and sucked kirishima as if he had a purpose, a goal. Kirishima threw his head back with such a gutteral groans, his hand still tangled in the izukus hair as he pushed his head down further.

“ fuck, izuku...”

The way kirishima shamelessly moaned for the shorter man was quite enamouring. Izuku temporarily removed his mouth from kirishima to check in with you, he stroked the man off and turned his attention towards you, spit around his mouth and slightly dripping down hie chin. He caught his breath and made sure you were alright before going back in.

Izukus low sounds that he let escape around kirishimas cock were growing louder. He seemed to be getting off to it.

“ you taste so good kirishima..”

He moaned up to the man as he stuck his tongue out and rubbed kirishimas cock along the pink muscle.

Kirishima couldn't help but harshly bite his lip, he was close but he didn't want to cum yet. Izuku was right, you have enough time to spare so why not enjoy yourselves a little while longer?

Izuku quickly went back down and sucked kirishimas cock for all it was work. Letting his tongue swirl around his as he slurped and bobbed his head. He seemed like a pro.

There was no way kirishima was going to last. He looked as if he was going to explode already..

Izuku removed his mouth and turned to you, your cunt was wet and ready to take whatever it was given. You had soaked izukus fingers in your slick and he slowly removed them slurping everything off with a low moan.

“ alright...you're nice and ready to take him, love.”

“ go ahead and straddle his lap for me, and kirishima you lie down for me.”

You both did exactly as you were told while izuku lightly praised you both.

“ there we are..”

You held onto kirishimas chest and waited for not only his, but izukus ready as well. You smiled down at the man beneath you and slid your cunt up and down his aching cock. He winced at the best of your cunt and the sticky feeling of your slick.

“ god...please don't tease me... I already feel like I'm gonna cum..”

“ I.. wanna put it in...can I? please...please..”

Kirishima begged and writhed underneath you. Pleading for you to let him have you, all of you. Kirishima got off to hiw you looked in the suit, the way it hugged your bidy and made you look so aooetizing.

“ alright fine..”

You giggle. He thanks you before you hurriedly slam yourself down on his cock. It shocked not only kirishima but izuku aswell. A little 'oh.' leaving the green haired man's mouth. Both of their eyes were wide and kirishima couldn't help but moan loudly as you took him all the way down to the base.

“ fuck, i— shit.. you took me all the way down. I'm impressed I've never really had someone who.. has.”

“ well now you have.”

You say slightly proud of yourself with what he's just revealed. It's honestly an accomplishment. You'd be lying if you said he wasn't big because he definitely was. He filled you so full without even cumming inside of you, which you were most excited for.

He laid back and let you take control. You rode him as best as you could, you wouldn't lie and say he definitely wasn't big. He filled you up so well you were practically losing your mind. You let out some whimpers trying to muffle every noise of yours that threatened to escape, you wanted to hear kirishimas sweet moans.

They left his beautiful mouth like slippery butter they sounded so serene you couldn't help but to want to hear more.

“ that's it baby... take what you need.”

Izuku rubbed your back, his large warm hand sending shivers up your spine and causing your skin to tingle. You arched your back into his touch and moaned throwing your head back. A small smile crawling into izukus face at the reaction.

Izuku looked over to kirishima who looked as if he was experiencing a pure euphoric rush. His eyes were squeezed shut and his mouth hung open as you rode his cock, his hands were on your thighs gently squeezing. Izuku hummed before gaining Kiri's attention.

“ would you mind if I did something? to ready you to take me?”

Izuku spoke lowly to the red haired man making his eyes widen, he hadn't wanted to alarm you seeing as you were in your own blissful estate. Kirishima gulped down, his mind was already getting fuzzy he couldn't do more than to nod helplessly.

Izuku has kirishima shift a bit almost making you go off course but you were quick to get back to work, nearly reaching your orgasm. Izuku licked and sucked in his own fingers to coat them in his spit so he can't get kirishima ready for him.

Kirishima groaned at the newness biting down hardly on his lip, his moans escaping and sounding more whiney as izuku worked his magic.

“ there we go kiri, that's it.”

Kirishimas breath was shaky and his eyes were squeezed shut once more, he couldn't help but squeezing your thighs harder each time you went down on him. Izuku aided kirishima with a whole new wave of pleasure from his skillfully fingers he felt so close.

“ alright kiri, hold on f’me im gonna put it in..”

Kirishima mumbled a response, izuku just smiled wearily and rubbed his thigh before gently pushing his just as thick and large cock head inside of him. Kirishima let out the whiniest moan ever making your eyes open, you laughed breathlessly at how such a big strong man can make such sweet noisee, it was adorable.

Izuku groaned lowly to himself before coming forward to kiss your shoulder making you jump with a squeak. His brows were furrowed and he clenched his jaw a couple of times, he wanted to wait for kirishimas 'okay' he did, he really did. But he just couldn't help his own need to cum.

He began putting his hips at a certain pace that had kirishima genuinely about to cum, he groaned and covered his eyes with one of his arms. Kirishimas head back in the pillows as you both fucked and used him for all he was worth.

“ please don't stop.. it feels so— so fucking good..~”

The way izukus hot breaths fanned your neck sent you over the edge, you leaned over to lay down on kirishimas chest moans being muffled as you bury your face in his neck. Izuku simply laughed above you both.

Kirishima held you closely as both for your orgasms were approaching. Izuku kept his hips moved, pistoning them in snf out of kirishima at a much faster pace causing kirishima to moan in your ear, kirishimas eyes were filling with tears from the overstimulation and he hadnt even cum yet.

The pleasure from you both was beginning to be far too much.

“ im- I'm gonna cum, fuck..”

You whined on his chest and kept moving your hips as izukus hand came down to your ass and gently squeezed it.

“ hmm, c'mon baby make him cum.. cum on his cock f’me, that's it.”

You tried your hardest to speed up, your impending orgasm making itself known once more, you sat up to fully ride him once more causing kirishima to moan. He threw his head back with a groan as he began cumming inside of you, you felt his cum reach depths inside causing you to cum yourself. With a sigh you had your hips slow down and laid back down on his chest.

Your breath as shaky as kirishimas, little mewls still leaving his mouth as izuku tried to chase his own orgasm, not trying to fall behind you two.

With a couple more messy thrusts inside he pulled out and came in your back, milky spurts of cum getting all over mirkos suit. It was so much you felt it all just splattering all over your back you couldn't help but to giggle.

You all caught your breath, laughing with one another before izuku noticed what he had done.

“ oh shit! I- I came on your suit! oh no..”

You sigh with a giggle, there's not much you can do but try wiping it off and going about your day in hpped no one notices or smells it.... It was a lot after all.

Izuku apologizes profusely as kirishima cant help but laugh along with you. Just as you were all getting comfortable a call came through.

“ sorry, that's mine.”

You say reaching off of kirishima to grab your phone.

“ oh.”

“ what?”

“ what's the matter?”

“ we have five minutes...”

You all scrambled together trying to clean and get yourselves situated with help from one another, laughing and giggling with one another.

AN: FINALLY GOT THIS WHACK ASS SHIT OUT HOLY FUCK.

[gotta-winwin]

2019 debut year <> what is his problem?

word count: 2.1k TW: a bucket of snark, cold wonwoo, mentions of bullying, swearing italics are in english, bolded words are in mandarin

౨ৎ ─── ─── ──౨ৎ─── ─── ──౨ৎ─── ─── ──౨ৎ

"Mingyu!" Cyana yelled from across the living room, her leg propped up as she sat icing her swollen ankle.

The boy in question slid into view, stumbling a little for balance as he grappled with the slippery wooden floors. "Yes, princess?"

Cyana made a little face at the nickname. "Can you charge my phone for me please? I left it in the kitchen and I can't stand up." She pouted at the mention of her rolled ankle. "And I thought I told you not to call me that."

Mingyu let out a deep sigh. "It's fitting though, don't you think? You are seventeen's princess." He poked her ankle gently. "Look at me, waiting on you hand and foot."

She sent him a glare. "You're the reason I'm like this." She let her upper half crumple dramatically onto the couch.

Mingyu had came rushing into practice this afternoon, colliding into an unaware Cyana, who had just been trying to leave the room for water. Everyone had chalked it up to the fact that Mingyu only ever looked parallel to his height, and could not see Cyana below him.

"I've already apologized." He whined, leaving to grab her phone. "You're even sleeping over so I can take care of you. Seungcheol said it was my punishment. You know only special people can ever enter the Minwon residence."

She scoffed. She noticed she was unnaturally riled up today, annoyed by the pain and inconvenience of not being able to walk. "Special, my ass."

"Hey." Mingyu stared at her from the doorway, having been on his way to grab a charger for her phone. He sent her a frown. "I understood that."

Cyana stuck out her tongue in retaliation, smiling to herself when it got a loud laugh from Mingyu. She watched him walk out of view, probably to his room to grab his charger.

They really had started to feel a little like family, Cyana realized as she sat there, with nothing to do but to ponder. She wouldn't have ever expected to be enjoying small moments like this, despite her ankle still throbbing. She also wouldn't have ever thought this job would be anymore than purely working. She never imagined she'd make friends, let alone call 13 boys her family. Well, 11 boys, she correctly ruefully. Woozi had been refusing to speak to her since the Hug BPM incident, although Cyana noticed he had changed it to be 138. Wonwoo was another one who seemed to be doing everything under the sun to avoid her, despite them literally being under the same roof right now. He had helped Mingyu move her from the car to their couch, gave her a look over and retreated to his room.

She let out a huff. She'd been here for nearly two months now, and comeback season would begin in less than two weeks. Wonwoo or Woozi (preferably both) would have to get their shit together sooner or later, before fans began to notice and shit started getting stirred.

Mingyu knocked twice on Wonwoo's door before entering. The last time he had walked in unannounced, a controller had been sent flying his way.

"Wonwoo hyung~" He called, reaching over to move Wonwoo's headset slightly off his ear. "Can I borrow your charger?"

Wonwoo frowned, blinking at Mingyu, his eyes adjusting from the bright screen back to reality. "Why?" Mingyu's phone wasn't adaptable to his charger head.

Mingyu waved the lilac phone in his hand. "Cyana's phone."

"She's got you charging her phone for her now?" Wonwoo muttered, getting up to grab it from the floor next to his bed. "Puppy."

"Hey!" Mingyu protested indignantly. "Her ankle's injured. I'm just helping. Like you should be doing."

Wonwoo frowned. "Why would I?"

"She's family."

Wonwoo scoffed. "She's not family. Family is the people who were there with us in that fucking lime green room."

Mingyu cut his eyes at the older boy, disappointed. "Cyana's a good person. You'd know if you'd just give her a chance."

"She's a ticking time bomb, Gyu. You need to realize that." Wonwoo's shoulders sagged as he sighed, handing over his charger. "She's going to blow up our comeback either way."

"You've been talking too much with Woozi hyung." Mingyu decided. "One skeptic's enough in this group."

"She's got 11 cheerleaders and knights-in-waiting already." Wonwoo quickly countered, sitting back down and putting his headphones back on, clicking open a new game. "I just don't think we'd get along."

Mingyu rolled his eyes. "She's literally you, Wonwoo. Down the a T." He groaned when the older boy gave no reaction, the headphones blocking his words. "Aish-" He slapped the back of Wonwoo's head gently. "Idiot."

Returning back to the living room, he plugged the charger in the outlet next to Cyana and handed her her phone. "You better thank Wonwoo later, it's his charger."

Cyana groaned. "Why~ Couldn't you have just grabbed yours?"

"My charger doesn't fit your phone, nana." Mingyu frowned. "Did something happen between you and Wonwoo hyung or what?"

"What do you mean?"

Mingyu took a seat next to her, hands reaching over to bring her injured foot into his lap, massaging her ankle. "Just mean that there has to be a reason you hate each other, that's all."

"I don't hate him, Gyu." Cyana sighed. "I just don't like being where I'm clearly not wanted."

"I'll talk to him."

Cyana shook her head. "No, no. Don't make it worse. It's okay, Gyu." She patted his arm. "Wonwoo not liking me isn't going to destroy me. As long as he hides it well during recordings, we're fine."

"He's my best friend though~" Mingyu whined. "I want my two best friends to get along well."

Cyana let out a shaky laugh, hit by a sudden jolt of pain when Mingyu pressed on a particular spot. "Sadly we don't always get what we want." She squeezed his shoulder. "Really, though. It's okay. I still have more friends than I ever had before."

He frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

She shrugged. "I didn't really have friends growing up, is all. I was busy."

Mingyu looked at her sadly. "That's not good. Childhood friends are the best. You didn't make any at school?"

Cyana thought for a little bit, reaching over to move Mingyu's fingers to a certain spot where she felt like the pain was the most. "I had some friends in Vancouver, but once we moved to LA, everyone kind of already had friends. So it was awkward to join them."

"Oh." Mingyu couldn't wrap his head around the idea that Cyana didn't have friends in LA. She was so comforting and funny and pretty and good.

"They were all mean anyways." Cyana shrugged off the heaviness that the memories had brought her. "Not very friend-material."

Mingyu nodded. "I guess." He was still sad though, imagining lonely baby Cyana in the middle of a busy and large LA.

Sensing his sadness for her, Cyana offered him a bright smile. "I have you now. And Shua. And Kyeomie, and Boo, and Chan, and Vernon." She began counting them with her fingers, earning a smile from Mingyu. "And Hannie, and Hoshi, and Jun, and Haohao, and Seungcheol." She paused. "Well, kind of Seungcheol. I don't know if we're there yet." Looking up at Mingyu, she smiled. "But still! That's a lot of friends."

"I'm glad." Mingyu could only say, although his eyes said a whole lot more. I'm glad you have us. I'm glad you see us as your friends. I'm glad you're our friend. My friend. Cyana's grateful smile told him she understood.

The next morning, Cyana woke up in a stranger's bed. She sat up, frowning when she didn't recognize the bedroom she was in. Mingyu's bedroom did not have pretty LED lights coming from the ceiling, and last time she checked, he didn't own a gaming station.

"Get up."

Her eyes widened at the sound of Wonwoo's voice. She turned her head to look at him, leaning on the doorframe of the connected bathroom.

"What?" She mumbled, still deciding whether or not it was all a dream. It had to be, for on what planet would she wake up in Wonwoo's bed?

"I said get up." Wonwoo sighed, pushing himself off the doorframe to grab his coat from the foot of the bed. Sensing her confusion, he bit back a tiny smile. "You and Mingyu both fell asleep on the couch last night. I brought Mingyu back to his bed but found you couldn't fit comfortably next to him so I brought you here." He threw his coat on, grabbing his keys and phone as well. "I slept outside on the couch, don't worry."

Cyana's face flushed. It didn't go past her that this was the most words Wonwoo had ever spoken to her. "Sorry." She moved to get up. A large hand stopped her, grabbing her shoulder.

"Sorry." Wonwoo mumbled, releasing her. "Your ankle."

"Oh." Her face flushed again. "I think it should be fine. Mingyu's pretty good at physical therapy."

Throwing her legs over the side of the bed, Cyana stood up, gingerly placing weight on her bad ankle. Wonwoo stood a couple steps away from her, ready if something were to go wrong.

"It's fine." Cyana gave him a tentative smile. "Thanks. You could've just left me on the couch." She had definitely expected him to.

"Maybe I should've." Wonwoo muttered. "Hip Hop unit's got practice early today. Breakfast's on the table. Don't call. Don't burn the house down. And don't touch my things." He left the room without another word. Cyana heard Mingyu's voice from the distance and could hear the front door shutting behind them.

She blinked, frozen. She didn't know whether to cry or celebrate that Wonwoo had finally acknowledged her presence. His actions and words confused her greatly. It was i put you in my bed and slept outside so you can sleep well and then shout loudly to wake you up followed by a got you breakfast ending with a i don't trust you in my house.

She sighed, shaking her head. Boys.

Although her stomach grumbled, she opted to skip breakfast. Her stylists had complained that she wasn't fitting the skirt they'd made for their stage performances, despite it being not her size at all. She supposed it meant she still had a long way to go before she would look good onstage next to the members.

Looking around the room, she was able to properly see Wonwoo's place for the first time. It was clean, she expected nothing less from him. Everything about him screamed clean.

The computer hummed with life despite it being off and it was surrounded by photographs and equipment. She smiled when she spotted a photograph of what looked to be young seventeen, huddled together in the midst of their trainee years. There was also a few photos of a dog, who she assumed was Wonwoo's back home. There were books as well, overfilling the shelves that lined the far wall. That was something Cyana could relate to, although these titles were all in Korean instead of English. She found that she missed having books to read. It was hard to find anything good in Korea that she could understand.

She could've spent eternity in Wonwoo's room just looking at things, trying to decipher a person she desperately wanted to know. Her phone rang however, startling her.

"Hello?" It was their manager.

"Oh. Manager oppa. What's going on?" Cyana frowned. The manager rarely called them, schedules and changes were usually relayed through text.

"We have a couple company higher-ups who want to see your improvement before the comeback, Soyeon-ssi. I'm sorry to spring it on you now, but they'll be at Pledis soon. Could you come over quickly?"

Her blood rang cold. "Oh, uh- yes. I'm at Mingyu's right now. I'll be there in 10 minutes."

"Great. No need to panic, Soyeon. They just want to know if you're ready."

That was the thing though. Cyana didn't think she was ready. Sure, she'd been practicing with the others, learning techniques she hadn't learnt in LA, but she still wasn't as polished as the others. She couldn't quite grasp the concept of levels and angles, although she tried her hardest knowing it was essential to Seventeen's famed synchronization.

Rushing out of Wonwoo's room, she threw on the first hoodie she found in Mingyu's room before rushing to leave, locking the door behind her. Waving down a taxi, she sent prayers to all the gods she did not believe in that she'd pass whatever test they were giving her. She wanted to debut. She needed to. She wasn't about to let herself be sent back to LA. Not when she had family here.

author's note: ahhh! thank you so much for reading! things are about to get intense (,,>﹏<,,)

[akirathedramaqueen]

CBT and Exposure Therapy: Blitzø Showcase

An important (really, don't skip) disclaimer

If you are contemplating whether or not you would benefit from any kind of therapy, consider consulting with your medical provider first. While I did my best to validate all the points made using publicly available resources, I am not a medical professional. At the very least, I strongly advise that you do your own research and not take some amateur's opinion about a character from a silly demon show for granted.

"Everyone in this show needs fucking therapy STAT!"

We hear fans screaming into the void every now and then. Me too. I plead guilty and I willingly put myself in custody. But I am not taking these words back.

Especially often it is being said with Blitzø in mind, who, as hinted earlier and clearly shown in the latest episode, Ghostfuckers, is not doing okay. Not in the slightest.

Which is . . . yes. Indeed, trauma-ridden Blitzø is a major problem for both him and those around him. Yes, we see him reaching his lowest point now exactly because he left these gaping wounds untreated for so long.

But the tricky question is—how, though? What to do? Will a good talking to a confidante help? Or, maybe, some kind of shock would snap him out of the spiral?

I've been pondering on this topic for more than 4 months, and, as the Ghostfuckers came out, I finally got all the data I need to prove a point. The show did all the job for me and effectively made Blitzø go through improvised versions of two popular therapy techniques. And, before I even start, I want to say—I am so glad with what we ended up with. What they did, and, more importantly, didn't do, aligns well with how it would likely happen in real life.

So buckle up, and let's see where it gets us!

Therapy # 1. Cognitive-behavioral therapy, or CBT

This is, in essence and with some corrections, your good old talking. Here you can find more information about it, so, if you're not familiar with the topic, I recommend following the link first.

But, very shortly: CBT is an extremely common approach to be tried while you're dealing with anxiety, depression, and a number of other mental disorders. What it aims to do is to help you get past unhelpful thinking (distortions) and learn not to act on it.

Looks like it fits the bill, right? Blitzø has a lot of issues with self-fulfilling prophecies, infuriatingly stupid assumptions, poorly thought-out actions . . .

But he's not like, you know . . . w-we're not, like . . . we're not doing a . . . w-we . . . what's betw— It's a transactional fucking, you see.

If you don't feel like coming, that's OK! I'm sure I can do without it for one month. :)

Stolas only cares about having a rugged peasant raw-dog him into his matress! It's nothing, ya know . . . it's nothing else.

You . . . no longer have any obligation to see me, to touch me, to bed me . . . You are— you are free of me.

He sees things which aren't truly there.

It's not Stolas giving him space after the disaster in the 'Ozzie's.' It must be Stolas not needing him anymore, getting tired of him.

It's not Stolas caring about Blitzø. He is a royal, why would he care how an imp's day he happened to be fucking was?

It's not Stolas setting Blitzø free and putting an end to a problematic transaction they had with the hope for it to grow into something more. It's him getting rid of Blitzø.

As a result, he ends up hurting himself and the relationship he had with that one sad gay bird he happened to fall deeply for but literally trashed in his own house twice, acting on nothing more than frenetic fear of losing Stolas, but in reality, driving him away even more . . . for good.

I mean, you royal fucks think you can do this every time, like you can just play with our feelings because we're smaller and not as important!

Ha! I'm right, aren't I? You get off getting plowed by people you look down on!

And I can sorry more people, everyone but you! 'Cause I don't owe you dick! Everyone, but you . . .

So, the case's closed? Let someone—say, Millie—talk to him and tell him how wrong he was about himself and the others?

Well, here's the thing. Despite him being infinitely wrong about Stolas's intentions, we can't deny the fact that every one of his beliefs was not, in fact, a distortion. It'd led him to wrong conclusions, yes, but it was built on the information he received and legitimate experiences he had in his life. Here are only some of the facts connected to only this situation with Stolas, but there are other problematic behaviors and other reasons for him acting the way he does.

Fact # 1. The circus fire did happen, and Blitzø was the reason for it. Unintentional, and of course it wasn't his fault, but it still ruined the lives of many people—him included. Blitzø cannot act like it never occurred.

Fact # 2. Hell is divided by class and race. Their situationship with the grimoire was an embodiment of that inequality. A lot of Blitzø's outburst during the Full Moon and later in the Apology Tour was connected to it, to his beliefs that Stolas is the same as the rest of the privileged circle. Beliefs, I stress, justified by the real world. Stolas is more of an exception, and even then, his behavior is only different when it comes to Blitzø. He still acts the same toward other imps.

Fact # 3. We knew about Stolas's intentions all along, but before that fateful Full Moon, what Blitzø saw was Stolas avoiding him and not communicating the issue the Ozzie's date had raised. And before Ozzie's? Stolas did act entitled and inappropriate. He was baby-talking to Blitzø and used derogatory terms while addressing him. The dude literally called him an impish plaything in the Truth Seekers.

Fact # 4. Blitzø's heavily implied (though not officially confirmed by the show) existing conditions—ADHD*, BPD**, PTSD, and dyslexia/dyscalculia***—do affect his life, and while Hell seems to be somewhat receptive of neurodivergence, he still has to deal with it every single fucking day. He is going to be avoidant and afraid to be abandoned at the same time. He is going to hate himself. His learning disabilities are going to make his life harder. No way around it.

Note: *, **, and *** contain links to separate meta-analyses from @timkontheunsure and @tealvenetianmask about the respective conditions and how they show themselves in Blitzø's case.

And my beef with CBT here is exactly that. CBT's goal is to gaslight you into believing your distortions hold no water and suggests you just ignore them. And, as I've shown with Blitzø, these reactions and assumptions aren't baseless. They are legitimate, and, in fact, sometimes help to get by. Even though it's a crooked crutch, you can't learn to walk properly by just throwing that crutch away. You're still going to limp, and oh, will it be painful.

This is oversimplistic and dismissive. Anxiety and depression don't come out of the blue, and with mental disabilities, it's even deeper. The class/disability stigma is alive and strong, and just slapping a "you're fine" bandaid on your traumatized self isn't going to help.

Therapy # 2. Exposure therapy.

Exposure therapy is another approach commonly used while dealing with traumatic past and its aftermath—PTSD, anxiety, phobias, and such. Again, if you're not familiar, there's the link for you, but very shortly—the therapist puts the patient in a safe environment and 'exposes' them to the feared object in question for limited periods of time. The goal is to eventually get rid of the targeted fear and decrease avoidance.

And Blitzø has got some phobias for sure.

The fear of letting everyone down. Again.

And the fear of abandonment. Again.

All of it is a result of self-hatred, sitting so deeply it rules his life and his vision of how others perceive him. Said it himself. Almost.

So, where and how does the show expose Blitzø to his traumatic past?

First, the most recent, and the most obvious one—Rolando and his slideshow of all traumatic events Blitzø ever had in his life.

Second—Blitzø's drug trip in the Truth Seekers. While it does not contain the events of the past as they were, it does force him to face his fears.

Are you worried I might have enough of it one day as well? . . . You're going to die alone! . . . You're going to die alone, Blitzo!

With some stretch, the third one is Verosika's 'Blitzo sucks' party. Where Blitzø was forced to see the consequences of his avoidance and rejection.

Note: to be clear, I do think the party does not show the true extent of Blitzø's actions and how much he'd hurt people. It was exaggerated by Verosika, and here I explain why this is the case.

So, what gives? Or, rather, what gives it not?

It might sound funny now, considering I brought it up myself, but I, once again, say this is not therapeutic, just as CBT kind of 'talking.' If anything, all these three events did more harm than good.

The D.H.O.R.K.S.'s goal in the Truth Seekers was to torture the information out of Blitzø. He was not supposed to overcome it. He was supposed to crack.

The Verosika's goal was to ruin Blitzø's reputation. She was working her ass off to prove he's just a heartless freak.

The Rolando's goal was to fucking kill Blitzø.

And okay, their motivations had nothing to do with helping him, but maybe it did, in its own twisted way?

No. The writers added this to push Blitzø past the breaking point, not to heal him, and to show us more of his lore. Each time he was forced to face his past or fears or consequences, he was only spiraling more.

The only thing which did him some good was . . . well, Millie finally seeing his bravado mask falling off. But the cost of it was way too high. Not worth it.

To the therapy's defense, some points why it would never work in the way it was done in the show:

Blitzø had never given his consent and was not ready to face it. I might be very rude right now, but go and try producing some explosion-like sounds in front of war veterans without letting them know first and see what happens.

The amount of fearful experience exposed was way too overboard. He couldn't possibly digest it in a healthy way.

The environment was not safe. It was straight-up retraumatizing, an intentional one.

So there's that.

But what helped then?

We've briefly brushed over the fact Millie did talk to Blitzø. While I did imply this might be an example of CBT, here are some key deviations from the classic therapy which made all the difference.

Millie didn't sugarcoat all the shit Blitzø did. He was hurting their business. He didn't pay her. He was reduced to Bethanie. It showed her opinion can be trusted.

Millie apologized for not being there for him sooner. She admitted she relied too much on Blitzø being bulletproof, unbothered by everything. She admitted she didn't support him in a way he always did.

While proving she could never hate Blitzø, she used their common story, one he knows and can recall. She used evidence to prove him wrong, not a "it's all in your head" bandaid. And more than that, later she proved it with action—not for one second did she believe Rolando and his shittalk about what Blitzø supposedly was thinking about her. Her unwavering faith spoke more than any words ever could.

Getting back to exposure therapy . . . Metaphorically, she reminded Blitzø he can handle a beating or two. And physically beat the infestor demon out of him, which, as we can see later, didn't really affect Blitzø that much. He wasn't even battered. So, apparently, when the said exposure is done by someone who genuinely tries to make you feel better and knows your limits well, it might just work?

And finally, Millie acknowledged Blitzø's pain. She didn't brush it away. She validated him.

What all of this is about?

Like every treatment, too much of a medicine can become poisonous. So are CBT and exposure therapy.

They might help, and lots of research shows they do in certain cases. But there are limitations to what they can and cannot achieve, and they have to be adjusted to each individual story, to each trauma, and they should not be applied as a way to mend the outcome of the trauma without taking into account the story it comes with. Again, legitimate concerns and experiences cannot be brushed away or ignored.

Actualy . . . we've seen where it leads in the show too. In the beginning, Millie was quite dismissive of Blitzø's worries—all of this over a . . . breakup?

And here it comes full circle.

Only when Millie started taking Blitzø seriously, did it help them progress. And look how quickly we've switched from a complete despair to a glimmer of hope! Isn't that a beautiful closing scene?

As a closing note—we do not need to 'fix' Blitzø. After all this shit he went through, there won't be a day where he wakes up and be like, "Hey, I don't hate myself anymore! And look, I'm not afraid to be abandoned or misunderstood!"

I'm sorry to break it to you, but this is a lifelong battle. Being mentally whole, healthy, and constantly happy is no more than a myth, and everyone has their own demons and skeletons to deal with.

What Blitzø needs is some good support system to pull him back when he's down.

And boy, do I hope that one particular owl will fill in that role of unyielding pillar for Blitzø each time our lizard will fall into that pit again. Look, I love Millie, but there's only so much she can do. She can't be always present, she has her own life . . . and her own disaster of a husband to look after (affectionate <3). Here and here @lost-romantique talks about Stolas's capacity of loving, with me occasionally nodding, ha-ha. But to be short—it's fucking immense. And since he loves words, I do believe he has all the energy to tell again and again and again how awesome Blitzø is. Even if Blitzø wouldn't believe it himself.

[frozen-snowflakesandsunflowers]

Jared Bush says Frozen 3 will surprise people | Latest Updates

In an interview during D23, last weekend in Brazil, Jared Bush, the recently appointed CCO, gave away some teases about Moana 2, Zootopia 2 and the future of Encanto, but he also mentions a bit about Frozen 3.

He says:

“Yeah, yeah, Frozen 3 is coming. And from what I've seen so far [of the film] I think people are going to be surprised. I can’t give away too many spoilers, other than to say that Jennifer Lee is leading the charge and that the story and the direction that she’s taking these characters, what they’re facing, what they’re going to go through, I think is going to surprise a lot of people but it's also going to deliver on everything that people love about Frozen.”

So surprised is the word he uses to describe how we'll react to Frozen 3. That's given because as Jen has said recently that the concept art that was shown during this year's first D23 is just a glimpse of what we could see in the movie. Apart from what we make from that concept we have no clue what Frozen 3 is about and tbh I have to give it to the team for not spilling a single detail about the movie. I know we want to know more but imo I think they're saving all that content for the end of 2026 and into 2027. Maybe a few teases or better insight of the story by the end of 2025, but who knows. Probably also because they're still working on it so whatever they would have told us about the film so far, could have changed and form opinions in our heads about it which they really don't need at this current stage of production. I don't think the cast have even got the script yet as the story is still developing!

Bush also mentions that Frozen 3 is going to deliver on everything that people love about Frozen. Now that's the only real piece of information given - the focal point being on what we want to see. That's what the questions on the first D23 event were about - what we would like to see, what we feel is left to tell. We love the characters, the story, the individual arcs of those characters, the dynamics, the settings, the potential, the mystery, and so much more and so I'll take this a positive sign. That's all of what I make of it.

I know nothing major was revealed in this interview, but I still thought I'd share for those who do take into consideration these little hints and teases. Since Frozen 3's date has been pushed back from 2026 to 2027, most of the content will be given the year of the release and some the year before base done the previous two films promotion (it could be different as this movie is a two parter). I know that's quite long to think about (😭) especially with the honest disappointment that Frozen Winter Festival was not a short film or an official short series but rather just a YouTube series (which is cute nonetheless and good to see they're feeding the younger fans of the franchise), but now moving into 2025 we have 2 and bit years left so we should get more teases in interviews and events here and there.

But regarding FWF, I don't blame them too much because all their focus is on the Frozen 3 and 4 as it is being made back to back, then I'm certain it'll be worth the wait. We can still hope for some kind of Frozen content soon as we do have a couple more years to go so let's see. 🤷🏽‍♀️

P.s I have some Frozen edits I'd love to share so I'll post those if you need something new regarding Frozen. ❄️

[burningcheese-merchant]

"I'm Sorry" - BurningCheese Short #9

Gonna be traveling somewhere soon, probably won't be back here for a few days. Wanted to leave you all with a story before I go. (I wrote it sometime ago, I've just been waiting for a good time to drop it. I guess now will do haha)

Plan on answering asks and posting BurningCheese kids when I get back (I have almost 100 asks in my inbox and I feel really bad for leaving them there. I'm genuinely sorry to you all, I actually am reading what you send me, I promise I won't leave you hanging forever. I answered a couple today and I'll keep it up soon). In the meantime, eat this short story where we see our favorite couple take an important step together, and Burning Spice take an important step himself

"I'm sorry."

Golden Cheese blinked. "I... Pardon?"

"I'm sorry," Burning Spice said again.

"You're sorry?" she echoed. "Sorry for... what?"

He paused for a long while before he answered. "For Beast-Yeast."

"For Beast-Yeast?" Slowly, she turned to face him, eyeing him critically. "And where is this coming from, exactly?"

"Why does it matter?" Burning Spice asked, keeping his gaze trained on the bustling city far below. "I am sorry. That is all I have to say."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "And... what? You think that means anything? You think one, single apology will change the past? You think it's enough to atone for all of your heinous crimes?"

"No."

"Then what audacity is this? Why even say it?"

"Because I want to," he said. "It's as simple as that."

Another long pause, longer than the last, came and went before Golden Cheese spoke up again. "Why should I even believe you when you say such words?" she asked. "What reason do I have to think you're being sincere?"

"Someone such as I saying it at all ought to be reason enough. You think I'd ever utter something so soft and pathetic to anyone else, for any reason? Even under penalty of death?"

"...Hmph."

A third pause came - shorter than the first two, because Golden Cheese couldn't bring herself to wait any longer than that.

"And what makes you think I forgive you? Or that I would ever even consider doing so?"

"You allowed me into your kingdom," he said, still refusing to look at her. "Into your palace, even. Here we stand together, watching your subjects from afar. You snuck me in so no one would see or notice me. Perhaps you don't forgive me at all... but you've let go enough that you've allowed yourself to do this much. Haven't you?"

"I..."

The fourth pause made itself known, hanging over the two of them as they stared down into the busy streets of the Golden Cheese Kingdom. It showed itself out when, at last, Burning Spice turned to look at Golden Cheese.

"I'm sorry," he told her one more time. His voice was soft. Quiet. In his eyes and on his face were emotions that only he himself would know how to read.

Golden Cheese looked right back at him, her eyebrows knit and mouth set in a slight frown. She said nothing, instead only nodding slowly, tentatively - unsure of how to acknowledge him, but willing to do so nevertheless.

When the fifth pause came, it weighed down on them both terribly, though who felt its burden worse was hard to tell. The silence was thick, tense, awkward. Granting cover to all the words Golden Cheese couldn't bring herself to say. Making up for all the words Burning Spice didn't have left to give.

Everlasting, like the city bathed in gold and neon lights waiting beyond the balcony railing and stretching on endlessly into the horizon.

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

I will let you all decide for yourselves what led to this moment, and what happened afterwards.

[bibliophilesince2003]

The Bad Batch

Here's a little theory for you to mull over; I sincerely wonder whether I am alone in thinking this. I could also be heavily exhausted over and influenced by the papers I had to polish off for some of my college courses, or perhaps motivated by the fact that I am re-watching The Bad Batch because most modern shows these days, in my opinion, disappoint. At any rate, here it is.

Why do we like the Bad Batch so much? What makes them relatable and/or realistic?

Upon meeting Omega, most of the Bad Batch behave in a very dad-like manner. This is not surprising, no. Plenty of memes and incorrect quotes have stemmed from this simple observation. They don't have all the answers and they don't know what to do with Omega half the time. That's the thing about dads... usually, they're just "winging it" and trying to do their best. Moms come with a built-in instinct to nurture. Dads come with a built-in instinct to protect and lead. Sometimes, dads aren't quite sure what to do with a crying infant or a struggling teenager.

Let's not forget... Hunter and the others are soldiers. That isn't to say they can't be kind or gentle; even the toughest men have their weak points. As a military brat, though, I have noticed that such a profession can mold a man, and at times they forget to "turn off" their seriousness when at home after having dealt with extremely hard situations. I really appreciate that the producers of this show didn't change Hunter and the others just to make them more approachable from Omega's standpoint. If they do change, it's gradual.

Do Hunter and the others think about the consequences of bringing Omega into their lives? *eyeballs toothpick man* With exceptions, of course. Well, until season three. The answer? Absolutely not. They believe they have the strength and ability to keep her safe, as most dads would. They believe they will always have that strength and ability. Let me break it down for you and give you a look into the brain of a dad:

Dad: *involved in a dangerous situation*

Dad: I can do that.

Dad: *remembers their child is with them*

Dad: Oh. Well, I guess becomes a life lesson. I've got you, kid. Just... don't tell your mom.

Dad: *keeps an eye out for anything suspicious*

Kid: *perfectly content*

I've heard it said that dads don't say "I love you" but show they love you. I personally have experienced both, but given the seriousness of most dads... I can see how that would be the case. At the very least, their actions speak louder than words. The Bad Batch are very much this way towards Omega. They put their lives on the line. They want to make her happy. Wrecker assembles a spot for Omega to call her own on the Marauder. Tech grabs her before an explosion can reach them. Echo has hugged Omega the most. Hunter is usually within three feet of Omega at all times.

The subtle gestures of kindness captivated all our hearts, I know.

Why?

It's Star Wars, a fictional universe. It's not complete fiction, though. Hunter and the others represent a specific kind of love. Fathers may be cautious and unsure at first, but eventually they want the kid by their side for everything. We've all seen the videos of dads using infants as pretend machine guns or making them dance, the kid's neck rolling lazily. Gently, of course. If they can't protect the kid from everything, they use themselves as a shield, which extends to good mothers, too, though that's not what this post is about.

Hunter and the others may be soldiers, but they embody the very spirit of fatherhood. This was such a wonderful theme to see develop despite the grittiness and action.

Phew, I feel like there was more I wanted to say, but I'm tired, so you're spared from more rambling.

[mimisempai]

The human way of doing things

Summary

Doing things the human way can be taxing on the body, and Aziraphale won't deny it after climbing up and down the stepladder a hundred times to put the books away in the cottage. But the pain is quickly erased when a demon gives you a foot massage...

On Ao3

Rating G -  603 words

“I'm knackered.”

Aziraphale dropped onto the sofa next to Crowley as the demon looked on amusedly and asked, "How many boxes do you have to put away?"

"This was the last one. I swear I'm going to burn that stepladder, I can't see it anymore, I don't know how many times I've climbed up and down it."

Aziraphale bent down to untie his shoes and take them off before placing a foot on his knee and massaging it. Almost immediately, he couldn't hold back a wince.

Crowley said to him wryly, "You know it would have only taken a small miracle to put all your books away, don't you?"

"Crowley, you know that -"

"Yeah, yeah, the human way, blah blah blah..."

The demon had no desire to rehash this discussion that had been repeated over and over again for centuries, so instead, noticing the angel flinch once more, he decided to take matters into his own hands.

Literally.

He grabbed a pillow and placed it on his lap, then patted it and said, "Angel, if that's the way it is, then let me relieve you in a human way, give me your feet."

"Hm?"

Aziraphale looked at him in confusion.

"Your feet, lie down on the sofa and put them on the cushion."

"Oh..."

Aziraphale followed Crowley's instructions and, once on his back, placed his feet on the cushion in the demon's lap.

Crowley grabbed one foot and gently removed the tartan sock.

"Crowley, you don't have to do that, I can - oooh soooo good."

Crowley, ignoring the angel's protest, had just begun massaging the sole of his foot in a circular motion, silencing Aziraphale, or rather, rendering him unable to form a complete sentence.

Crowley smiled in amusement as he continued to massage the angel's aching feet. Aziraphale now had his head thrown back on his folded arm, clearly enjoying the treatment his feet were receiving at the hands of the demon.

After a few moments, as Crowley moved on to the other foot and Aziraphale said between moans of pleasure, "Millennia and I didn't know you had this hidden talent."

Crowley chuckled softly.

"Nice to know I can always surprise you."

"I'm not complaining."

Crowley hummed as he continued, treating the other foot with the same attention as the first, and judging by the grunts and various appreciative sounds that came out of Aziraphale's mouth, he was doing a good job.

When he was finished, he pulled Aziraphale's socks on the angel's feet and said with a playful grin, "You should take better care of your pretty feet."

Aziraphale giggled.

"My feet? Pretty?"

"Hey, I'm the best judge. I am, after all, the one who saw them up close, and that was millennia ago."

Aziraphale straightened up and, now sitting next to the demon, looked at him confusedly.

"What do you mean?"

Crowley wrapped his arms around the angel's neck as he replied, "Well, when I was slithering along the wall of the Garden of Eden, I got a prime view of your cute little angelic feet."

"My feet are not cute!"

Crowley brought his face close to the angel's and whispered, "Your feet are adorable," just inches from his lips.

"Oh, you cheeky little devil."

Just as the demon, a mischievous gleam in his eyes, was about to reply, Aziraphale gave him no time and closed the distance between them, putting all his effort into making the teasing smile disappear in the way he knew best.

Which didn't stop Crowley from thinking, as their legs intertwined, that his lover really did have adorable feet.

Until he couldn't think at all.

_________

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story  🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

South Downs cottage series : here

Ineffable fan fictions Masterpost : here

[ponyregrets]

I wanted to write about Buck and Eddie going in the ocean and I'd written most of it before I thought to check what the weather in LA is actually like right now (look, I'm in New England, I just think of it as Warm down there, okay?) and I decided to go with it anyway. as @frightfullytreeish said, get chilly, idiots

(806 coda, 1900 words, also on AO3)

"Hey, what brings you joy?"

Eddie is expecting some waffling in Buck's response. Maybe some suspicion. It's a weird thing to ask, obviously. Joy isn't a word he uses much, isn't a go-to. But even if what makes you happy is a more normal question, it's not right. He needs something deeper.

And of course there's the Tommy of it all. Buck hasn't exactly been mourning or anything, but he's obviously down. It wouldn't be unreasonable for him to say that nothing is bringing him joy at the moment. It's not a particularly joyful time.

But Buck doesn't hesitate, doesn't question. He just says, "The ocean," and doesn't even ask why Eddie wants to know.

"Really?"

"Yeah. I never saw it until I left Hershey. We never went to the beach or anything when I was a kid. The first time I saw it, I fell in love. It was the best thing I'd ever seen."

"I didn't know that."

Buck shrugs. "Doesn't come up that much. And I guess I always think I'll get used to it? But it's amazing every time. I never get tired of it."

He should have known, right? They've gone to the ocean together. Or--well, they've had calls near the water before. That guy who got struck by lightning. The shark.

The tsunami.

But they've never just gone. Buck has never tagged along with him and Chris on any of their trips, and he and Buck have no reason to just take a beach day together.

Joy doesn't need a reason, right? He can just do it.

"Cool," says Eddie. "Let's go."

"Now?"

"What else are we doing?"

It hasn't been a problem, exactly, their lack of things to do. It's just kind of new, the way they're hanging out in the last week. Usually they have Chris, or girlfriends, or boyfriends. They have some reason to stop being together, and now they just…don't. And Buck just keeps on coming over, hanging out on Eddie's couch, in his space, like he can't bear to be in his loft now that Tommy isn't there.

Or something.

"You got some trunks I can borrow?" Buck asks.

"Are we swimming?"

"You want to go to the beach and not swim?"

Most of the time, that's what he does. When Chris was younger he'd get in the water, but the last few years it's been Eddie supervising while Chris does his own thing far enough away that it doesn't look like he's being supervised.

But Chris is in Texas. And, yeah, it's November, but Buck doesn't seem to care.

"I'll see what I've got," he says and finds he has two pairs of trunks in good enough shape that he's not embarrassed about anyone wearing them. Small miracles.

He throws the bigger pair to Buck and then goes to change in his bedroom. Buck will be doing the same thing in the bathroom, not for the first time, but he's never been changing into Eddie's trunks before. Did Ana ever wear anything of his? Marisol didn't. Buck might be the first person since Shannon.

As long as they fit, it's fine. Not a big deal at all.

They take Buck's car, the podcast he's listening to about the issues with the keto diet resuming as soon as he turns it on. Hen has gotten tired of explaining why his diets might be a problem herself and is outsourcing, which Eddie can't blame her for, but he doesn't find the resources nearly as interesting as Buck does. He already knows he doesn't want to do keto.

"You don't need to cheer me up, you know," Buck says, about halfway to the beach, without bothering to pause the keto thing. "I'm doing okay."

"I know."

It's mostly true. Buck has seemed fine with the breakup. Not happy, but not heartbroken either. He's been a little quiet about it, more so than Eddie was expecting. All he'll say is that Tommy initiated it, but he understands why.

"I'm trying to be happier," he tells Buck. "For me."

"Is that a thing you can try? Like, aren't you just happy or not?"

"If that was true, the ocean wouldn't bring you joy, right?" He lets out a breath, his stomach tied in inconvenient knots. "Someone pointed out that when I had the choice between something that would make me happy and something that wouldn't, I picked the one that wouldn't."

Buck mulls this over for a long moment. "I always figured that's because you're more mature than I am." It's only half a joke.

"Yeah, that's one way of looking at it." His breath shudders more this time. "Anyway. I'm not doing that anymore. I'm looking for things that bring me joy. So I figure if the ocean does that for you, maybe it'll do it for me, too."

"I hope so."

They set up like Eddie would with Chris, towels and belongings planted in the sand, the only difference that they left their phones in the car since no one is staying behind. He keeps his back turned as they shed the layers of clothing they have on, but when Buck hands him a tube of sunscreen, he has no choice but to stare at the expanse of bare back. The motions are familiar, nothing he hasn't done a thousand times for Chris, but…

Well, he's never done it for Buck.

Buck makes him turn around so he can return the favor, a much less familiar process. These days, he usually leaves his shirt on.

But he knows Buck's hands. They're familiar, all heat and callus. Careful, incongruously so. Buck looks like he's built clumsy, someone who can't do delicate work, and maybe he knows that too. Like happiness to Eddie, precision doesn't come naturally to Buck. He has to put the effort in, and he does. Eddie's skin lights up with every stroke of Buck's hands, so he's sure that Buck gets every inch.

And then he keeps going a little longer. Just to make sure.

"Okay," says Buck at last. "We're good to go."

Eddie is expecting Buck to run into the ocean like an overgrown puppy, all bright enthusiasm despite the chill, but he's cautious. He dips a toe in, then his foot, then the other. He walks in slowly enough that Eddie overtakes him, even though he's not running. He's just eager.

"The first time I went into the ocean, I was in Virginia Beach," Buck explains without making Eddie ask. "It was May, and I thought it would be warm enough, it was a hot May. But I ran in and it was so cold. I ran right back out."

"Goes to show," says Eddie.

"What, exactly? I know how the water's going to be today. It's cold."

The water is probably around the same temperature as it was in Virginia Beach in May. Eddie shivers, but doesn't stop, not until he's up past his knees. He smiles at Buck, who's still just letting the waves lap his toes. "Yeah, it's nice anyway. It's hot out."

"Not hot enough."

"It's fine."

He's in up to his ankles now. "You're not getting the joy, though."

"I am."

"Eddie."

"I'm getting used to it."

"You're not supposed to get used to it. You're supposed to be be making choices that make you happy right away, right?"

"I am happy," he says again, and it doesn't feel like a lie. "It's nice, there's no one else here. And it's not cold enough for us to get hypothermia."

"Are you sure this isn't just for me?" Eddie cocks his head, and Buck clarifies, "For my benefit."

"Should it be?"

Buck kicks at a wave. "He said I wasn't ready. Tommy. That's why he broke up with me. I asked him to move in with me, and he broke it off instead."

"So he's an idiot," Eddie says. "Always knew there was a chance, but I was hoping I was wrong."

"Is he, though? Was he wrong? I didn't really want him to move in. I just wanted…" He huffs. "I want to be done with this, you know? I'm ready to be with someone. And I think it could have been him."

It's not like getting shot, or even like getting punched. It's like a bullet or a fist going past him, close enough to graze the skin. Close enough that he's thinking about how much it could have hurt.

"But that's shitty, right? Like, how long could I have kepg going just because I didn't have a reason to break up with him? He was…fun. I liked him. I liked feeling like I'd figured it out. Like that was the last piece. I like guys too."

"Maybe it was," Eddie says. The water is lapping against his legs, the surf gentle. He's used to the temperature where he's submerged, but it's only halfway up his thighs. Every time the droplets splash higher, there's this shock of sharp little pinpricks.

He's so fucking happy.

"Maybe that was the last piece, but that doesn't mean Tommy is it. Maybe you're ready, but you're not ready for him."

"I'm just tired," says Buck. "I'm tired of waiting for someone to want me enough, you know? I'm ready to settle."

"You shouldn't," says Eddie. "You shouldn't be with someone just to be with anyone."

"You can build it," he argues, like Chris angling for a later bedtime or more video games before homework. "Love. Like you and Shannon did."

Nausea roils his stomach. "We didn't. It wasn't like that."

"I know it wasn't perfect, but you two were working on it. You were going to--"

"She wanted a divorce. Before she died. That was one of the last things she told me. We weren't going to have another kid, we weren't going to get married again, we weren't going to be together." He's not crying, but in that way where he is very aware that he's not crying. Where Not Crying is currently defining his existence. "I think we could have been friends," he says. "And maybe we could have figured it out. Been together again, made it good. That's what I told myself. And that's…easy."

"Easy?" Buck asks, in a small voice. Like Eddie is telling him a fairy tale he wishes could be true.

Which Eddie is, actually.

"If she was the love of my life and I lost her, then that was it. No one else would ever measure up. Nothing else could ever be as good. It was never going to work."

"But she wasn't?"

"Maybe she was. Or maybe--" He's Not Crying. "Maybe I don't just get one love, or even just one life. Maybe it doesn't have to be about finding her again. It can be about finding someone new. Someone who…"

He chokes then, the words dying in his throat. Buck is dazzling in the sunlight, his eyes as blue as the sea, his expression open, waiting. His whole existence focused on Eddie.

Eddie would marry him today. Eddie would marry him tomorrow, Eddie would marry him yesterday. Eddie would tie himself to Buck in any way Buck could think of, in every way, with wills, with contracts, with mortgages, with handcuffs, with string.

"Someone who brings me joy," he finishes.

"Joy," says Buck. He looks over the horizon, smiles, shakes his head.

Eddie's chest is too small and too big. He's never had so much in him.

"I've never had that," he muses. "Someone who makes me feel like the ocean."

"Like the ocean," Eddie says. "Yeah."

[lousypotatoes]

Only Fools Rush In

"So what? You've blown a fuse

Well, that happens to us all

Well, I come with great news

The day could change~"

Just A Cloud Away - Pharell Williams

--

Previous

Next

"Y-Y/N!? What-what the hell are you doing here?"

"H-Hello Lucifer, it's lovely to see you again."

The room was deathly quiet, you could hear the tiniest of pins drop. Everybody was staring at the King of Hell and the angel, their eyes wide and mouths agape. Even Alastor was surprised.

The two stared at each other from across the dining room table. He hadn't changed much since Y/N last saw him, all those eons ago. He still had the same fierce glint in his eye, and he still carried himself the same way, with that combination of elegance and danger that seemed impossible to pull off when you were in a place like Heaven.

But there he was, still the fallen angel that Heaven decided was too dangerous and unpredictable.

A troublemaker.

"You, you two know each other?" Charlie asked, surprise very evident in her voice.

"Yes, we were....acquaintances before he fell," Y/N replied, keeping her voice calm and steady.

"Acquaintances is an understatement" Lucifer said under his breath. "I didn't think they'd actually send someone down here, let alone you."

"Yes, well there is a first time for everything," Y/N shot back, still keeping her voice calm and steady.

Lucifer laughed dryly. "Out of all the angels, they send you? I didn't know Heaven was feeling so...generous."

Y/N forced herself to take a deep breath. She had a job to do, and whatever ancient history that was lingering between her and Lucifer was as relevant as an old scar.

"I am here on Heaven's orders," she replied crisply. "Nothing more."

“Orders.” Lucifer repeated the word with a quiet, almost pitying chuckle. “They’ve sent one of Heaven’s own to monitor me, then? How very…quaint.”

"Still as prideful as ever, I seem," Y/N said, coming out a bit more coldly than intentioned. "Unless you're running this hotel directly, my business here does not involve you."

"Doesn't involve me?" he laughed. "I might not be managing day-to-day, and unless you forgot that my daughter owns this hotel. I'm here to keep my eye on things and support her."

"Okay, um maybe we should move on to dessert," Charlie intervened. "Niffty made a really good apple pie an-"

"Are you sure Heaven didn't send you here to see if Hell's changed me?" Lucifer interrupted, a smirk on his face

"From what I've seen, you're still the same arrogant troublemaker that doesn't care about anybody but himself," Y/N said, getting angry.

"That's rich coming from you," Lucifer sneered. "Tell me, do you enjoy being Heaven's little watchdog? It must be scary being down here all by yourself."

"Do not say such things about me!" Y/N yelled, finally tired of Lucifer and his remarks. She stood up from her chair so fast that her chair fell over.

Everybody stared at Y/N, including Lucifer. They weren't prepared to see the proper and poised angel get so angry. And normally, Y/N wouldn't allow herself to get this angry, but she had had enough of Lucifer and his insults.

"I am not scared of you, and I am not scared of being here in Hell!" Y/N snapped. "I am not a watchdog, and I am certainly not here for you! So don't you dare say anything different! You know nothing about me, so stop pretending that you do!"

Y/N huffed and looked around the room at everyone, now starting to feel embarrassed for her outburst.

"I apologize for my outburst," Y/N said, looking down. "I'm terribly sorry Charlie, but I don't think I'm hungry for dessert."

"Oh no that's fine, you don't have to apologize!" Charlie immediately said. "I'll make sure to save you a slice."

"I appreciate that, thank you," Y/N said. "I think I'll be heading to bed now. Again, I apologize for my rudeness."

Y/N turned to walk out of the dining room after she picked up the chair off the floor.

"Goodnight, everyone," she said as she walked out of the room.

Walking out of the room, tears began to prick at her eyes.

This wasn't how she imagined seeing Lucifer again.

She thought it would be more heartfelt and lovely.

But, she was wrong.

And she wouldn't make that mistake in assuming something like that again.

Especially when it came to someone like Lucifer Morningstar.

im thinking about doing one of those notes things

what do you think??

stay safe and drink lots of water <33

xoxo, Izzy

[walmartbrandwhatever]

There’s this one jump that Marcia can’t get right, so she works herself to the bone trying to perfect it, and every time she falls she just hears trips voice in her ear telling her that it isn’t good enough. Two bit coming to pick her up for dinner but her telling him that she can’t stop practicing, and when he tries to convince her to go with him she just yells at him- they stand there for a moment then she breaks down crying in this arms. I’m going insane.

Her falling back into the same cycle will always make me so sick. Her just not being able to land this jump. She's just utterly exhausted at that point, she hasn't eaten and she's just mentally beating herself up. OMG Imagine like this causes her to first telling him about trip and how he would yell at her and hes just utterly horrified.

Note: I was cooking so hard this turned into a small drabble so I apologize that it took me so long to answer.

Note: another thing tumblr kept deleting my work so I had to take a step back bc I got upset 😔

By the time Two-Bit enters the rink, he sees Marcia attempt some jump he couldn't remember the name of and fall. He watches her for a second, and the clear frustration is written all over her face as she smacks the ice next to her before pushing herself up and preparing to try it again. He glances around the rink, there was no one other person there than her. Making his way to the entrance of the rink, he called out to her to make sure she at least knows he's there and ended up with no response.

With a sigh, he stops at the opening of the rink and watches her try the jump again and fail it again. He knows she's too exhausted to even do the jump right. He calls out to her again, and thankfully, this time, she turns to him, her face scrunched up as her chest rises and falls far too fast. "C'mon Mar, you ain't goin' to get that jump right. Not tonight. Plus you promised me a dinner doll. " A soft smile rested on his face, and he slowly fell the second he realized that she wasn't even planning on leaving any time soon.

"I can't. I'm sorry Two, I can't get this jump, and I need to perfect it. Maybe another time."

She offers him a half ass attempt of a smile before turning and preparing to try the jump again. "You're never going to get it, Mar, not today, at least. Look, I know you want to get it, but you're exhausted, and I bet you haven't paused to eat anything. Just-"

"You don't know shit Keith." She snapped, turning towards him again. He has never heard Marcia yell, let alone at him, so it catches him by complete surprise.

"You what? Know the basics? You don't get it, and you never will. You'll just know You'll never be good enough no matter where you go!" They both just stand there for a moment staring at each other. Two-bit knows that her anger is directed towards herself. He could see the millions of voices screaming at her, telling her the exact words she just told him. For a moment, she reminded him of Darry. God knows how much that boy works himself into the ground. There was one time after a long practice where Two had tried to get Darry to take a break. Darry had turned and yelled at him. At first, Two-bit was hurt, but standing their wide-eyed, he had seen the pain and anger Darry had, and now here he was standing and looking at Marcia, who held the same look in her eye. Well the anger long gone, just replaced by guilt.

She looked like a ghost when the words she said must’ve hit her because her face drops and she looks just about ready to cry. "Shit, I'm sorry - I," she pushes herself over towards him, guilt written all over her. He took a second to gather his thoughts. He knew she didn't mean it. More than likely, she meant it towards herself.

He gave her a small squeeze before attempting to pull away. He stopped the second he heard a small sob. His eyebrows furrowed,

" it's alright, ain't the first time i've been yelled at. Look, I know you're upset, but let's just take a second to breathe. " he took a deep breath and let it out. She followed his actions, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. "There we go. Are you good now?" He watched as she fought back the tears that rolled down her face. Panic quickly filled his body. He hadn’t meant to make her cry. "Hey, hey-hey, whoa, it's alright," he stepped forward, pulling her into a hug.

She wrapped her arms around him tightly, just sobbing into his chest. The genuine pain in her sobs made his heart squeeze because all he wanted was to take all her pain away. He wasn't sure what had gotten her so shook up. The genuine look of fear on her face caught him off guard.

They had stood there for a while, him gently rubbing her back as she cried. Once she seemed to calm down for the most part, he pulled back a bit, just enough to see her face. "Mar hey c'mon talk to me, what's wrong?" She wasn't looking at him. It was the first thing he noticed. Her eyes just burned holes at his chest and her mouth opening and closing a few times before she spoke up. "I'm sorry for yelling at you- God you didn't deserve that.."

"Hey, it's alright, I forgive you. Truly, it happens to the best of us, " his eyes darting around her face, looking for any hints that would tell him what was wrong. "You don't have to tell me what's wrong, but it might help."

That's when she told him about her old partner. At some point, they had sat down as she spoke. Told him about how when things got real stressful, most practices were just her getting screamed at. Yelled at about something that she had done wrong. She then started apologizing and explaining how she could just hear him screaming and the frustration building like it had back then.

It horrified him. Hearing her not only talk about some guy berating her but also berating herself. He gently grabbed her hand and just stared at her for a moment. Marcia took a heavy breath before looking over at him. "Marcia, you never deserved that." Her eyes searched his face, probably trying to find any deceit. "But only if-"

"No, buts. You didn't deserve that point blank no matter how much stress he might’ve been through." Most people think he couldn't be serious, mostly since he's always joking around even in most serious moments, but he can, and in this very moment, he was showing that. He knew Marcia wouldn't believe him, maybe not for a while, but he needed her to know that she didn't deserve getting yelled at. "You swear?"

"I promise. Now how about that dinner?"

She smiled softly, standing up from where she was sitting. For a moment, he thought she was just gonna throw herself back onto the rink, but she headed towards her bag. "Yeah, yeah, just let me pack up"

Watching her unlace her skates and place them onto the bench, he knew that it would all work out. That one day they'd be living life good hand in hand.

[dragonydreams]

BuckTommy Fic: Stuck in the Middle With You

Title: Stuck in the Middle With You Fandom: 9-1-1 Rating: Teen Audiences And Up Pairings/Characters: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Tommy Kinard, Evan "Buck" Buckley & Eddie Diaz, Eddie Diaz & Tomy Kinard Additional Tags: post-episode: s08e06 Confessions, this is not a buddie story, second chances, Eddie's a good friend, Fix-It Summary: Eddie promises Buck he'll talk to Tommy to try to get his friends back together. Word Count: 2,701 Disclaimer: I claim no ownership over these characters. I am merely borrowing them from Reamworks, Brad Falchuk Teley-Vision, Ryan Murphy Television, and 20th Television. Betas: Thank you to @medieshanachiefor looking this over for me. Author's Note: I'm not really sure where some of this came from. I had a line in my head and it kind of spiraled from there. Then Tommy got notions and wouldn't give them up. 

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They drank their beers in silence, but after a few minutes when Buck was still staring at the fireplace with that kicked puppy expression on his face, Eddie couldn't keep his rising worry in anymore.

"Not that I'm not happy to see you, but what happened?" he asked.

Buck looked at him as if seeing him for the first time. He watched Buck take in his bare face and legs. "I could ask you the same thing," Buck said, rather than answering.

"A priest told me to do something joyful," Eddie said. 'Your turn."

"A priest…? We're coming back to that." Buck takes a swig from his beer bottle. "Tommy dumped me."

Eddie nearly dropped his beer in his haste to turn to face Buck. "He what? But you just had your six month anniversary!"

"Took me by surprise, too," Buck said. "I don't think he was planning it, but as Athena would say, I went full Buck and scared him off."

Eddie winced. "What happened?"

"I asked him to move in with me," Buck admitted.

Eddie blew out a breath. "Is that how you phrased it?"

"Yeah, how else would I do it?" Buck asked, confused. 

"You didn't suggest moving in together, but for Tommy to move in with you," Eddie said.

"What difference does the phrasing make?" Buck asked, getting annoyed. He came here for comfort, not an inquisition.

"At any time while you were deciding to ask Tommy to move in, did you remember that Tommy has a house with a two car garage?" 

"I– What–" Buck's brow furrowed. "Of course I've been to Tommy's house."

"And you asked him to move in with you," Eddie said, again. 

Buck huffed in frustration. "I didn't mean my loft, literally."

"Did he know that?"

"I don't know, he was too busy breaking up with me to discuss where exactly we'd live," Buck said. "Why are you taking his side?"

"I'm not," Eddie said, holding his hands up. "I'm just trying to understand what happened."

"Did you know he used to be engaged to a woman?" Buck asked. "To Abby?"

Eddie's eyes went wide. "Not your Abby?"

"Yes, my Abby. Although I guess she was his Abby first," Buck said. "How could the two most important people I've dated been engaged to each other?"

"That is quite the coincidence," Eddie mused. "Is that what led to the idea of moving in?"

"Maybe?" Buck admitted. "Josh said all this stuff about me coming out in a post-Glee world, but he and Tommy came out in a pre-Glee world that wasn't so understanding and I wanted Tommy to know that I respected how hard it must have been for him and show him that I was all in."

"Had the two of you said I love you yet?" Eddie asked. 

"Why does everyone keep asking me that," Buck muttered. "No, but had you and Marisol said it before you asked her to move in?"

"No, we had not, and look how that turned out," Eddie said. "Our exes definitely had some big secrets."

"Yeah, but I knew about Abby before asking Tommy to move in. You didn't find out about Marisol being a nun until after," Buck pointed out.

"Almost a nun," Eddie corrected him automatically. 

Buck slumped back against the couch, draining the rest of his beer. "I went too big, too fast, didn't I?"

"You do have a tendency to act before thinking things through," Eddie agreed. 

"It's part of my charm," Buck said.

"Is it though?"

"Apparently not," Buck admitted. "I thought people liked big romantic gestures. Tommy loves all that rom-com stuff."

"Maybe, but not when it's a reaction to learning about a shared former lover," Eddie said. 

"How do I fix this?" Buck asked, tears filling his eyes. "I don't know that I am... Was… am in love with him, but I'm not ready to be without him."

"I don't know that this is something that you can walk back," Eddie said. 

"He said that while he may have been my first, he wasn't going to be my last. Did he tell you that he wasn't in this for the long haul?" Buck asked.

"We tried not to talk about you too much when we hung out," Eddie said. "But from what I could see, he was in it as much as you were." 

"Then why would he say something like that to me? Just because he's the first man I've been with doesn't mean that I want to be with other men."

"I can't speak for him, but maybe it's been his experience that when one man is just starting to date men and the other isn't, they don't usually stay together that long," Eddie said. "I'm just guessing here. You'd have to talk to him."

"Or-or you could," Buck suggested. He sat up on the couch, suddenly eager. "Yeah, can you do that? Can you go tell him that sometimes I leap before I look and I don't want this to end?"

Buck was looking at him with such sad yet hopeful eyes, that Eddie found himself saying, "Okay, fine, I'll try. Once."

Buck tackle hugged him. "Thank you. You're the best friend ever."

"I can't promise I'll change his mind," Eddie cautioned. 

"I'm not asking you to. I just need him to talk to me," Buck said, pulling back. "And now I think I need to know where your pants are."

Eddie laughed. "Yeah, um, so have you seen the movie Risky Business..."

~~*~~

Eddie stood before Tommy's front door, food offering in hand, and took a deep breath before ringing the bell.

It took a few minutes, but Tommy opened the door looking as rough as Eddie expected. 

"Had a feeling you'd need this," he said, holding up the bag containing a couple of breakfast burritos. 

"Did he send you?" Tommy asked, warily eyeing the bag of food.

"Yes, but I also wanted to see how you're doing," Eddie admitted. "I'm your friend, too."

Tommy stood back and let Eddie in before following him to the kitchen. Eddie got down a couple of plates while Tommy started making coffee.

"Should have known he'd run straight to you," Tommy muttered. "That man has been in love with you for as long as I've known him."

Eddie snorted. "No, he's not."

Tommy stared at him with an eyebrow raised. "I know he claimed he was trying to get my attention after you and I started hanging out, but I can tell you, he was most definitely not."

"He may have been trying to get my attention, but that's just the way our co-dependent friendship works sometimes. It's not because he's in love with me," Eddie protested.

"You tell yourself whatever you need to," Tommy said. 

"If he was in love with me, why would he have come to my house last night with a six-pack of beer and practically beg me to come ask you to talk to him to try to change your mind about breaking up?"

"Because you're his best friend," Tommy said.

"His straight best friend," Eddie reminded him. He idly wondered why he had to keep telling men he was straight. 

"You sure about that?" Tommy asked. "Should I kiss you and see if you have the same revelation Evan had?"

"Thanks, but I'll pass," Eddie said. "Because one, I'm not bicurious and two, I'm here on behalf of my heartbroken best friend."

Tommy poured them each a cup of coffee and they moved to the dining table. They each took a few bites before the conversation resumed.

"So, Buck's Abby was also your Abby," Eddie said. 

"It appears so. Did you know her?" Tommy asked.

Eddie shook his head. "She was before I moved to L.A. But I was there for the aftermath. Did he tell you about their breakup?"

"We didn't really get into that," Tommy admitted. "He just said she was one of his most transformative relationships, before me."

"From what I've heard, Buck slept around a lot before Abby. Bobby actually fired him his probationary year because he kept stealing engines for hookups."

Tommy choked on the bite he'd just taken. "I'm sorry, he stole fire engines to have sex? He wasn't kidding when he said he was a himbo."

Eddie nodded. "That's not the guy that I met, though. I met a guy who was living in his girlfriend's apartment even though she'd been traveling in Europe alone for months after her mom died."

"I did read about that. I sent her flowers," Tommy said.

"She basically ghosted Buck. He was staying true to her while she ran around without any real intention of coming back. She broke something in him."

"Because I broke something in her," Tommy said.

"That's not what I'm saying," Eddie said, quickly.

"Then why tell me about it?" Tommy demanded.

"To help you understand Buck. In case you haven't noticed, he has a fear of abandonment. Of not being enough," Eddie said.

"Who doesn't?" Tommy countered.

"He also tends to overcompensate when he's afraid," Eddie said.

"You're saying that he asked me to move in to his loft because he was afraid I'd leave him for a woman once he knew I used to be engaged to one?" Tommy asked, incredulously.

"No, I'm saying that between learning about Abby and something Josh said to him about how hard it was for gay people pre-Glee he wanted to show you how "in" he was in this relationship by asking you to move in."

"He's done this before? I'm not sure if that makes me feel any better."

"Did he tell you about suing the city after Bobby wouldn't let him return to work as soon as Buck wanted to after the ladder truck crushed his leg? Or asking Taylor to move in with him instead of just telling her he'd kissed Lucy back after she'd kissed him?"

"So he has done this before," Tommy said, solemnly. "Wait, Lucy Denato?"

"Or the time he tried grooming Ravi to take his place because he was convinced we all hated him after Chimney went chasing after Maddie when she left after Jee-Yun was born?"

"Or the time he thought he was cursed because he grew boils after an allergic reaction?" Tommy added.

"Exactly. He gets stuff in his head and reacts without thinking."

"And instead of talking it out, I just reacted to the words he was saying instead of talking to him about where they were coming from," Tommy said.

"Do you love him?" Eddie asked.

"Not yet, but I was close," Tommy admitted. "I didn't get into this relationship expecting love. I wasn't looking for it, but it was starting to sneak up on me."

"And that scared you," Eddie guessed.

"It did, because, as I said before, I didn't want my heart broken when you finally realized you were as in love with Evan as he is with you," Tommy said.

"I told you, I'm not," Eddie insisted. "I'm not gay, or bi."

"That's why you grew a Freddy Mercury mustache? To show how straight you are?" Tommy asked.

"Is that why the hot priest was hitting on me?" Eddie wondered aloud. 

"I'm sorry, a hot priest was hitting on you?" Tommy made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a giggle.

"He called my mustache very handsome," Eddie said.

"So you ran home and shaved it?"

"No, I shaved it because I realized I didn't need the mask anymore," Eddie said. "And not to mask that I'm straight. That's just the truth."

Tommy held his hands up. "Okay, fine, you're straight. You have no interest in bedding Evan."

"No, I don't. I'm not a threat to your relationship."

"There is no more relationship," Tommy said.

"If you're willing to try, there still could be," Eddie said. 

"I need to think about it," Tommy said.

"That's all I'm asking," Eddie said.

~~*~~

Can we meet for coffee?"

Buck nearly fumbled his phone as he read the text when they got back to the station after a call, four days after Tommy had dumped him. He frantically looked around for Eddie.

When he spotted him on a couch he ran over to him, holding out his phone. "Eddie, Eddie, he texted."

"Are you going to respond?" Eddie teased. 

"Oh, uh, yeah, of course," Buck said, pulling his phone back.

Yes! When and where?

Tommy responded right away. 

Tomorrow morning, 10am. You know where.

The coffee shop of second chances. Third? I'll be there.

"So?" Eddie asked.

"We're meeting for coffee tomorrow when we get off shift," Buck said, his face lit up with his smile.

"That's great, man. Good luck," Eddie said.

~~*~~

Buck was sitting at an outdoor table, two cups of coffee before him. The main difference this time is that he knew he had Tommy's order right.

"I'm feeling a bit of deja vu," Tommy said as he sat down across from Buck.

"Coffee should be better this time," Buck said.

Tommy brought the cup to his lips and hummed with appreciation. "At least you didn't try to be cute and order the wrong thing knowingly."

"I'd never do that to you," Buck said, offended.

"I know," Tommy said. "I'm sorry, I know that I have no right to be snarky."

"I'm the one who got dumped," Buck pointed out. "If anyone's going to be snarky, it should be me."

"I'm sorry, Evan," Tommy said.

"So it's Evan again?" Buck snarked.

"I deserved that," Tommy said. 

"What are you sorry for?" Buck asked.

"I'm sorry that instead of talking out my concerns that you were moving too fast I pulled away completely," Tommy apologized.

"And I'm sorry if you thought that I meant I wanted you to move into the loft. I was just so excited about the idea of living together, I didn't stop to think about where it would be," Buck said.

"I guess that's something we'll both need to work on; pausing to think before saying things," Tommy said.

"S-so there's something to work on?" Buck asked, hopefully. "Are we getting back together?"

"I think we need to have some long conversations about what we're looking for in this relationship, but I'm willing to have those discussions," Tommy said.

"Me too," Buck said, eagerly.

"But first, I want to ask you something that I should have done from the beginning," Tommy said.

Buck licked his lips nervously and nodded. "Okay, ask."

"Are you in love with Eddie?"

Buck laughed, then noticed the stern look on Tommy's face. "Oh, you're serious."

"Very."

"No, I'm not in love with Eddie. He's my best friend. My soulmate, but my platonic soulmate."

"Are you sure about that? Now that you know you're bi, are your feelings for him still just platonic?" Tommy pressed.

"Totally," Buck assured him. "He's always going to be an important person in my life, but he's not the one I want to share a bed with. My turn for a serious question."

"I deserve that," Tommy said.

"Can you handle Eddie and Christopher's role in my life? I'm always going to drop everything if one of them needs me. Are you going to be okay with that? Most of my girlfriends couldn't."

"Hell, I'll probably be the one driving you," Tommy admitted. "They're both pretty special people."

"They're the best," Buck agreed. "And I think you should take Eddie to the Lakers game instead of me. I really hate basketball."

Tommy laughed. "You know, somehow I just knew Eddie was going to end up at that game."

"Can we kiss and make up now?" Buck asked. 

"God, yes," Tommy said, both of them standing and reaching for the other. 

The kiss was fairly chaste since they were in public, but their hunger for each other was clear. This was something they both desperately wanted.

"You wanna get out of here?" Buck asked, somewhat breathless.

"Come back to my place?" Tommy suggested. 

"I'm right behind you," Buck said.

"Hmm, no, I think we should be face to face," Tommy said, smirking. 

Buck's face flushed. "That's not what… I mean yes, absolutely."

Tommy kissed Buck's cheek. "I'll see you soon."

The Beginning (Again)