#at this point he's also been stuck like that for 8 or so hours

[befuddled-calico-whump]

Test Track: Discipline (bonus panel) (T$$ AU Masterlist)

[marsixm]

had a string of bad luck tonight then when i went to the store i work at to drop something off i wound up locking my keys in my car so i was stuck there for like an hour and a half. i say hey to my work bestie and tell him abt the situation. WHILE IM THERE like 30 mins later my work bestie then gets locked out of the office upstairs. i find him and im like yooooooo locked out buddies high five. hes so fucking mad and reluctantly high fives me jsdfhglkjsdfgh then my dept managers daughter who also works here comes in with the key to rescue him and they remark how she also always gets locked out of places and im like ME TOO HIGH FIVE and me and her are laughing and high five. it felt like a scene out of a stoner comedy

[sturniolos-blog]

reader (w/ matt) who struggles w/ an eating disorder and while matt was on tour it became worse, and when he arrived back from tour he finds her passed out on the bathroom floor and noticeably underweight (only if you’re comfortable)

Eating Disorder PT2 - Matt Sturniolo x Y/n oneshot

warnings - eating disorder, throwing up, fainting, insecure, swearing, mentions of blood

disclaimer: third person POV

—————————

8:09pm

Eating was always a problem for Y/n. Growing up a bit bigger, not fat no. But to her she was more than fat, to herself she was huge.

Always comparing herself. ‘What if i was that size?’ ‘What if i went down 10 pounds?’ ‘I wish i was that weight’ ‘I wish i looked like madi’

And the list went on.

So this brought her here, one evening, while her amazing husband Matt was on tour, brought her in the bathroom, sitting on the floor in front of the toilet puking her brains out after she had stuck her finger down her throat because she thought she ate too much, but now she couldn’t stop, throwing up so much her stomach started hurting.

She finally let out one last gag before lifting her head up letting out a pained groan, standing up and flushing the toilet as she wiped her mouth with her sleeve.

Right before everything went black.

—————

9:14pm

“She’s not answering. It’s been 6 hours since i last talked to her, guys.” Matt sighs, running a hand through his hair.

“Well, Matt, she’s probably okay, she could be sleeping.” Nick comforted, putting his hand on Matt’s back, rubbing softly.

Chris nods his head, agreeing with Nick.

But Matt shakes his head, “You guys don’t know my wife, I know my wife. And i know she’s not asleep at nine o clock.” Matt lets out a frustrated sigh.

“Okay, Matt, calm down.” Chris lets out a scoff.

Matt stands up, “Don’t tell me to calm down!” Matt raises his voice, pointing at Chris.

As Nick and Chris look at each other and not say anything Matt shakes his head, “I-i’m sorry. Sorry.” He swallows harshly and takes a breath before sitting back down. “It’s just.. we’ve been going through a bad patch lately, right before I left for tour. She wasn’t okay, guys. She wasn’t.” Matt tears up, looking up at his brothers before wiping his eyes.

—————————

before Matt left for tour

“Matt, stop.” Y/n stood up from the kitchen chair.

“You haven’t eaten all day, Y/n. Come on, sweetheart.” Matt says, putting his hand on Y/n’s shoulder.

“I’m not hungry! God, do you listen?!” Y/n raises her voice at Matt.

This happened a lot through Y/n’s eating disorder, it made her moody and mean to the people she loves. Matt understood that so he kept his composure.

“You have to be hungry, babe, i haven’t seen you eat in like two days.” Matt shakes his head, a soft look on his face.

Y/n groans, “Because you’re never here! You’re always at work-”

“No. We are not doing this, you are not doing this. You are not going to turn this around on me so i feel bad. Y/n, you have a problem and if you don’t eat then im calling your therapist.” Matt threatened, looking down at her.

Y/n sighed, rubbing her head before sitting down and looking at the plate of food Matt had made her.

It was steak, mash potatoes, and green beans. She almost threw up at the sight of it.

“A couple bites is all i’m asking for, baby.” Matt says softly, putting a hand on her back.

Y/n picks up the fork that was laid neatly on the plate before grabbing the knife also.

Her hands were shaky, making it hard for her to cut the steak. When Matt realized this he grabbed the utensils from her hand and cut the steak in tiny pieces for her.

He puts the knife down before using the fork to pick up a now cut piece of steak.

Matt uses his other hand to put it on Y/n’s jaw, his thumb tracing her jawline softly.

“Open.” He instructed as she looked at him nervously.

Y/n slowly opened her mouth as Matt stuck the piece of steak in there, she almost gagged but instead she took the steak off the fork and held it in her mouth.

“Chew, baby, come on, n/n.” Matt sighed as he watched her.

Matt watched as her jaw started moving as she chewed the piece of food in her mouth, a couple more times before he watched her swallow it.

“Good job, sweetheart.” Matt smiled, kissing her cheek softly, making her half smile.

“Couple more?” Matt suggested, making Y/n nod slightly.

—————————

present time (9:16 pm)

“Her eating disorder is back?” Chris asked, his mouth slightly dropped in shock.

Matt lets out a breath and shrugs, “I guess.” Matt says quietly before he puts his face in his hands. “I shouldn’t have left her. God, i’m a terrible husband. My wife is probably starving herself and…” Matt trails off before he stands up and puts on his jacket.

“What are you doing?” Nick looks at Matt with a confused look on his face.

“I need to go see my wife now.” Matt says, an angry tone defined in his voice as he grabs his keys.

Chris let’s out a laugh in disbelief, “You’re gonna leave tour?” He asks, shaking his head at his brother.

“I care much more about my wife then i do this stupid fucking tour. I’m fucking leaving.” Matt spits, leaving the hotel room.

Chris and Nick look at each other in silence.

“What the fuck just happened?” Nick scoffed.

Chris shook his head, “No clue.” Before taking a sip of his pepsi.

—————————

10:34pm

It took Matt over an hour to drive home, him immediately rushing in the house after he had pulled in to the drive way.

“Baby!? I’m home, sweetheart!” He called out, throwing his keys down before checking the downstairs, not seeing Y/n anywhere.

He let out a nervous sigh before he practically ran upstairs, his eyes catching glimpses of the light coming through the opened bathroom door.

His eyes then trail down to a body.

His wife.

“Y/n!” Matt yelled, running into the bathroom and on his knees, taking her body into his arms, him letting out a pathetic sob at the sight of his wife.

The unconscious girl had a cut on her forehead, presumably from when she fell.

Matt sniffled as some of his tears dropped onto Y/n’s shirt.

He had his phone in his hand and was dialing 911, whispering a couple of “Come on, baby..”’s or “Please, Y/n.. please”

“911, what’s your emergency?” A female operator was heard after a couple rings.

“M-my wife! I need an ambulance! I came home and she was on the bathroom floor passed out! Please!” Matt sobbed, another hand going to her cheek.

“Okay, sir, they are on the way. What’s your wife’s name?” The lady asked.

“Y/n. Y/n sturniolo. Please, please get here.” He whimpered out.

“Okay, again they are on the way. And what is your name, sir?” The lady questioned, sounds of clicking from her keyboard coming through the line.

“Matthew sturniolo.” He breathed out before letting out another sob. “Please, my wife-”

“Okay, Matt? I need you to take a couple breaths for me. I need you to answer these questions with a clear head can you do that for me?” The lady spoke calmly, making Matt let out an almost incoherent ‘mhm’ but it was loud enough for her to hear it.

“Great. Now, is Y/n still breathing?”

Matt’s eyes glanced to her belly that rose and fell with every breath, making him nod to himself and then speak to the lady. “Y-yeah, she’s breathing.” He spoke.

“Okay, good, Matt. Good. The ambulance is on the way and should be there in 3 minutes tops, in the meantime take some breaths of your own.” The nice operator constructed.

Matt nodded even though the lady couldn’t see her. He took breaths. His thoughts racing.

My baby.

She’s alright.

You’re not dead, Y/n.

You’re with me.

His thoughts kept going until he heard sirens.

—————————

9:37am (next morning)

Y/n slowly opened her eyes, immediately being blinded by sunlight that was shining through the windows.

She rubbed her eyes before taking in her surroundings.

Monitor. Couch. Windows. Flowers. But most importantly Matt.

He had his eyes on his phone, not noticing Y/n had waken up.

Y/n cleared her throat, “Matt?” She whispered.

Matts head shot up, along with his whole body immediately standing up. “Hi, baby.” He smiled softly at her, bringing one of his hands to push hair out of her face.

Y/n smiled before she looked around again, “How’d i get here?” She asked, her voice scratchy and quiet.

Matt shook his head, “You had an accident, baby. You fell and hit your head.” He told her.

Y/n scrunched her eyebrows, picking up her hands to see that an iv was in her right wrist and a hospital bracelet on her left. She let out a small, ‘huh’

Matt looks at Y/n before a knock at the door brings them both to look that way, a doctor walked in.

“Y/n, good to see you. So, do you know what happened?” The doctor asked, sitting on a stool.

Y/n nodded, “Matt told me i fell and hit my head.”

The doctor glanced at Matt and nodded, “Right. But you fell because of something, do you know what that something is?” The doctor asked her.

Y/n knew, 100%. Matt knew that she knew. Y/n knew Matt knew that she knew. But that didn’t change her answer. “No..” She said quietly, making Matt rub his face.

“You haven’t had proper meals lately. You passed out from not enough protein in your body. When’s the last time you ate a good meal?” The doctor continued to question.

Y/n shrugged, “More than a week ago, i guess.” She sighed, avoiding eye contact with Matt as his jaw dropped slightly.

He left for tour a week ago. This broke Matt’s heart.

The doctor nodded, “Okay well you have two IV’s in your arm, one keeping you hydrated and one giving you some nutrients. We’d like to keep you for another night but after that you are free to go.” She smiled.

Y/n nodded, “Thank you.” She mumbled as the doctor nodded back before leaving the room.

After a couple seconds of silence Matt speaks up, “You could’ve talked to me.”

“You left.” Y/n whispered.

“But if i had known what was going on beforehand then i wouldn’t have, Y/n!” Matt raises his voice at her, making her look at him with glassy eyes. He sighed, “I’m sorry. I just love you so much and if you keep doing this then i’m going to lose you a-and that can’t happen. Okay? It can’t!” Matt let out a sob, putting his face in his hands.

Y/n grabbed his wrist, “Come here, baby.” She muttered as she pulled him onto the bed with her.

He left out a couple more sobs as his head ended up on her chest, her fingers running through his hair.

“You won’t lose me, Matt. Never ever.” She said, kissing his head.

—————————

um anyway

taglist: @sturniolosmind @novasturniolo03 @hearts4chriss @vinniehackerslefttoe @christhopersturniolo @mattybswife @streamermattsgf @sturnolio-luvs @sturnioloslurps @marlenafortuna @lovergirl4387 @sturniololovesss

[keikikait]

ꜱᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇʀꜱ (ɢᴏᴊᴏ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ)

pairing: gojo x f!reader (not au, gojo is 29, reader is early-mid 20’s)

word count: 2.6k

summary: you always wanted to be a teacher, even after discovering the jujutsu world. after graduating from kyoto jujutsu high, you decided to make your dreams a reality and teach at the sister school, tokyo jujutsu high. the only downside (and secret upside), is your teaching mentor, satoru gojo. what started as a few flirtatious glances turned into a full-blown relationship situationship. you were his, and he was yours, until he goes on a date.

warnings: (FOR THIS PART) angst?, plot with basically no porn (i’m sorry), gojo is kind of an asshole & a tease, implied dom!gojo and sub!reader, nickname use [baby, pretty girl], no use of y/n�� 

a note: been sitting on this bad boy for a while and decided to finish it. more parts to come (eventually). also, the comment about flirty baristas is just for fluff, baristas don’t flirt with customers (source: i am one). also also, they say tokyo jujutsu high is on the outskirts of tokyo, but i wanted everything to be inside of tokyo so i just kinda guessed, whoops.

please reblog and like, it means a lot! let me know what you think!

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

You were just his teaching assistant. Nothing more.

At least, that’s what everyone else thinks.

Secretly, you were his. After long hours, he would find solace in your arms as you lay in bed together. 

You weren’t dating by any means, although you wanted to. You understood why, it wouldn’t be a good look for you or Gojo if the higher-ups found out about you, but you both had an understanding. You were exclusive, just not publicly. You followed his rules, turning down dates and avoiding the flirtatious gazes of baristas or waiters.

You thought he would follow his own rules, too.

It was supposed to be a fun trip; a peaceful eight days of relaxing in Nikko before returning to school after the winter break ended. In reality, it was a week and some change stuck in a log cabin hunched over a desk grading papers, freezing from the cold. The gender-segregated cabins didn’t help. It was too cold to venture into Nikko during the day, a thick layer of snow covering the ground at all times no matter how much was shoveled. It was also, as Gojo had pointed out the day before making the trip, suspicious for the two of you to venture into the city alone. It was twice as hard to be away from him at night, you had gotten so accustomed to sleeping in his arms and hearing his soft snores in your ear. You were lonely.

You could see him, though. The men’s cabin was bigger and had a massive irori in the middle that heated the entire place. You sat with him as you graded and planned lessons, and his teasing touches left you aching. You were going on 8 days without his dick, and you were dying.

As you sit hunched over the desk, trying to make out what Yuji had written on his worksheet, Shoko bounds up to the table, sliding into a chair opposite Gojo. 

“Hey, Gojo,” she says. “Are you going to the winter festival when we get back?”

You tried not to react. You had begged him to go with you, but he always gave you the same excuse; it was suspicious.

He stretches his legs out a bit and smirks. “I was planning on stopping by. Why?”

Shoko smiles. “I have this friend, Himiko. She’s new to the city and was looking for a date for the festival. I’ve been telling her all about you, I honestly think you would be an amazing match. What do you say?”

You feel your heart drop to your stomach. Although you and Gojo had agreed to stay exclusive, you couldn’t ignore that he was Satoru Gojo. Everyone wanted him.

Gojo chuckles a little, adjusting his mask. “Sure. I don’t see why not. Is she cute?”

Shoko leans over the table and shows him Himiko’s social media while you keep your head down, staring at the pile of worksheets in front of you.

You keep grading, trying to focus on your work and not the feeling of your heart tearing in two. Gojo continues laughing and talking to Shoko, their conversation drowned out by your heartbeat pounding in your ears. You wish you could ignore your jealousy, but it’s hard to ignore the anxiety creeping up your spine at the thought of Gojo finding someone else, especially if he could go public with them.

You know his reputation; the ladies' man, the bachelor. The guy no one can catch. But you know the real Gojo, the one that stays over at your small apartment even though he has his own, bigger place. The one that cuddles you every morning and whines when you try to get up and get ready.

You don’t know this Gojo. You felt like strangers.

For the rest of the day, you kept to yourself, grading papers and reading books to try to drown out the thoughts. He isn’t even looking at you when you leave the men’s cabin and head back to your own. You and the rest of the staff leave Nikko tonight, and you have one more day of freedom back in Tokyo before the new term begins.

You pack up your stuff and wait outside the bus, shoving your suitcase into the undercarriage. A headcount is done before you all start piling onto the bus. You sit in the back, pressed up against the frost-covered window. Headphones in and music blaring, you only look up from your phone when you feel someone warm sit next to you.

You’re a little surprised when you look up to see Gojo getting comfortable next to you. He didn’t sit next to you on the ride to Nikko, he sat up at the front with Shoko and Akari, claiming it would be suspicious if you sat together. He leans closer, so close that you can almost feel his breath on your neck. Then he grabs your arm, moving your headphones out of your ear.

“Don’t wear these in public,” he says in a low voice, “Someone might grab you from behind and pull you into the crowd.” He leans into you and whispers, “I almost missed you sitting back here.”

You should be mad, but you can’t be. His smell fills your nostrils and you feel yourself succumbing to him. You smile softly. “You didn’t, though.”

"I didn't." He leans back and sighs, resting his hands behind his head and stretching his arms out. You enjoy the warmth coming from him, the way it spreads through you. "What do you want to do when we get back home? We can head out to a bar and grab a drink. Or we could go get some ramen from that place you like. Or we can just go back to your place and we can spend some…quality time together.”

You bite your lip a little. You’re normally a little feral when it comes to Gojo, but going without his touch for eight days has almost sent you into a frenzy. “I like the sound of that last one…”

Gojo laughs and squeezes your hand, running his thumb along your knuckles. "And how bad do you want it?" He leans in closer until his face is inches away from yours. You can feel the heat radiating from his body, the tension in the air. "How badly do you miss me, baby?"

You can hardly think straight. Your mind is telling you to push him off, to stay upset with him for accepting that date with Shoko’s friend, whatever her name was. But your heart, and more importantly your pussy, is telling you differently.

Your mouth feels like cotton, but you manage to say, “So badly, Gojo. I’ve been aching without you. These past eight days have been driving me crazy.”

Gojo chuckles and traces your chin with his fingers, leaning even closer as his face towers over yours. "You missed me, huh? My pretty girl didn’t do so good without me, did she?" He strokes your cheek gently, smiling as you lean into his touch, feeling goosebumps rise on your skin. "Say it. Tell me what you've been wanting to tell me for the last eight days, what you didn't want to say in front of everyone."

The bus suddenly lurches and you remember where you are, on a cramped bus surrounded by your coworkers. You look around, nervous, hoping nobody caught you guys.

“Hey, what are you doing?” Gojo asks. He grabs your chin and turns you to face him. “Look at me.”

You do, nodding softly. You can’t see his eyes, but you can still feel him staring into your soul. “I am looking.”

“Then answer my question.” He says, dragging his thumb across your lips. You can hardly think straight already being this close to him, but the feeling of his thumb on your mouth is mind-numbing. 

“I missed you,” you whimper. It’s been a long eight days since you last felt his touch, since you last felt his breath on your skin. As he continues to stroke your lip with his thumb, you feel your mind melt away into a puddle. His touch is like a drug, and you’re desperate to not end this feeling.

“I know you have.” He coos, moving his hand down as someone up by the front gets up from their seat to change positions. He waits until they sit down before speaking again, “I’ve missed you too.”

You sink further into the seat, hoping no one looks towards the back. The bus ride isn’t super long, only about two and a half hours. Maybe no one would think to check on you two until you made it back to Tokyo.

He reaches over and turns your face towards him again. “But that’s not all, is it?” His thumb glides across your neck, his eyes under his mask flicking between your own and your lips. You can’t look away. You don’t want to. “What else have you been thinking about?”

You gulp, your mouth dry. "It's been so hard without you. It's hard to fall asleep...and I've barely gotten any sleep here because I stay up all night thinking about you."

"You have?" His eyes search your face as his thumb strokes the length of your neck. "I haven't had the best sleep either. I kept thinking about you, about how much I missed you. Thinking about all of the things I wanted to do to you when I got back." He takes a deep breath, his eyes flicking to your lips, his breath coming out in hot puffs of air. "You make it so hard for me to have self-control. Do you know how hard it is to jerk off with Masamichi and Kiyotaka nearby?"

You nod, understanding him completely. You had tried to touch yourself, too, hoping that your fingers would feel the same but it felt weird to do it with Shoko and Akari in the same cabin. “I know. I haven’t cum since we left Tokyo.”

He hears the soft whine in your voice and grins. "You’re so tempting," His breath washes over you as he whispers those words in your ear. His hands trail from your neck to your cheek, his thumb brushing along your jawline. "Do you know what I want to do with you when we get to your place? What I'm thinking about doing to you right now?"

The bus takes a sharp turn going down the mountain and it snaps both of you back to reality for a second. 

You notice his hands still on you. Gojo notices too and grins, removing his hands with a sigh. He leans back into the seat. "Sorry," he says, running his hands through his hair. "I was a little carried away there." He chuckles. "We have a while before the bus arrives. I think maybe I should go to the front before I do anything stupid."

You go to protest but he’s already gone, striding to the front of the bus effortlessly as it rocks side to side, plopping himself next to Akari. You sit there, your body still feeling the heat of his hands, his words still ringing in your ears. You sink deeper into the seat as you try to calm down. You watch him for a while, seeing how he talks and laughs with Akari and Shoko and the way he never glances back toward you. 

You feel like a stranger to him, yet he’s the one who’s supposed to be yours. You were supposed to be together, even though your situation is less than ideal. The bus rocks back and forth, its engines humming quietly. You lean your head back against the seat, letting out a deep sigh. Your mind races, wondering how Gojo acts when you're not around. Did he only accept this date with Himiko to make Shoko happy? Why wasn't it ever you that made him happy?

You sniffle, blinking away the tears as you pull down the food tray and prop your phone up. You put on your favourite movie, hoping the familiar faces of the characters will distract you until you reach Tokyo. Occasionally you look up at him, hoping you’ll catch his eye before he goes back to his conversation but you don’t. He doesn’t look at you once.

The movie sucks you in like it has many times before. You don’t notice how fast time is moving, silver-tipped mountains giving way to serene towns and stretched farmland. It’s late, almost 1 am, and as soon as you feel yourself starting to fall asleep you feel the bus stop and hear the driver announce your arrival, right in front of Tokyo Jujutsu High.

You look over to see him already heading off of the bus with Shoko and Akari, heading in the direction of Kabukicho, laughing about an inside joke you’ll never be a part of. You grab your bag from the undercarriage and head to the train to head back to your apartment in Taito-Ku.

The train is packed full of tired salarymen and high school students, none of whom bother you. Your thoughts drift to Gojo as the train shakes and shudders its way back home. When the train finally reaches Taito-Ku’s station, you exit the train and head down the stairs, stepping out into the frozen city. You walk to your apartment and head inside, shutting the door to your small, solitary room.

You lie awake, hoping he’ll call you, or even show up at your front door drunk. It wouldn’t be the first time. The minutes turn into hours, your eyes shifting rapidly as you glance between your phone and the door. You start to wonder if he’s thinking about you as much as you’re thinking about him right now. And what he’s thinking. You glance at your clock. 2:57 AM.

You shouldn’t feel disappointed, but you do. He could’ve at least texted you and told you he would be out with his friends for the night instead of being curled up with you watching a cooking show. You’re his, but you’re not his girlfriend. He has no obligation to do anything with you, really, but you wish he would. You wish he cared enough to want to.

Your eyes glance back toward your phone and you hesitate. You mumble a curt fuck before picking it up and calling him. The phone is ice cold against your cheek as it rings. You wonder what your contact name is on his phone. Your name? Your name and a heart? Or is it just your number, unsaved?

He answers and you can hear faint music in the background. “Hey, baby.”

You smile a little, biting your lip. “Hi. I just wanted to see if you were coming over tonight.”

You hear him groan a little, but you don’t know if it’s out of annoyance with you or how late it is. “Yeah, I was planning on it. But uh, Shoko brought her friend tonight, Himiko. The one I’m going to the festival with.”

You nearly choke on your spit. The way he was so casual about his date with Himiko made you feel sick. “Oh, did she?”

“Yeah, baby. How are you though-” His words are interrupted by a female voice in the background begging for him to come back inside. “Uh, listen, I gotta go. I’ll be home soon, okay?”

“Okay, I-” The call ends, your phone beeping at you as he hangs up. You set your phone aside, face down, as you lay back on your bed. 

You feel ashamed as you cry. Gojo isn’t your boyfriend, and he has a reputation to uphold with his colleagues. You should be fine with it, but you aren’t, and it kills you. You bury your face in your pillow as you sob, hoping one day you and Gojo can stop being strangers.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

part two is here

[hitmewithsomebooks]

@jegulus-microfic Jan 29 - fancy

Cowboy James au 🤠

1012 words 🙈

This will be a multi-part :)

~

"Now, I demand that—"

"Whoa there, fancy-pants, what seems t’ be the trouble?" James drawled, placing a hand on the fuming man's chest. He was small, slight, with a head of perfect dark curls and silver eyes, and he shot James a withering look.

"This doesn't concern you." The man snapped, eyeing James before returning to the bartender. "I swear to god, if you don't give it right now, I will knock your fucking lights out—"

"Okay, okay." James intervened again, despite the man's dismissal. Or maybe because of it.

"Now, th’rs no need t’ talk t’ mah friend like that."

The smaller man glared at him.

"Your friend just so happens to be my brother. Who has taken away my fucking phone, because he's a dick." The man spat, directing a glare towards Sirius.

"Well, tha’s not very nice." James admonished, giving him a little pout.

"And who exactly are you?" The man asked James, turning to properly face him, an expression of annoyance and disdain on his face. Here, Sirius cut in.

"Regulus, this is James. My friend. James, this is Regulus, my menace of a little brother." Sirius introduced.

"Regulus." James repeated, grinning, and stuck out a hand. "Lovely t’ meet ya."

"Can't say the same for you, given you're so nosy." Regulus sniffed, but shook his hand anyway. James squeezed his hand a little, then let go.

"Well, since ah’m so nosy, ah’m gonna ask why exactly Sirius took your phone. Cuz ah gotta feelin' he might have a good reason." Regulus opened his mouth to protest, but Sirius cut him off.

"He won't stop texting an arsehole who broke his heart and stole his job." James's eyebrows raised.

"Well that just won' do." He frowned, looking down at Regulus. "Why're you still textin' ‘im ?"

Regulus looked, for just a moment, vulnerable. Then, he put his chin up, and a mask with it.

"He has a really big cock." He replied, granting James and Sirius a sharp, self-satisfied grin. Sirius rolled his eyes, and James laughed.

"Good to know whatcha like, sugar." James murmured, and Regulus's eyes widened minutely. Sirius, luckily, had been distracted by another customer, and hadn't heard James's remark.

~

James had left the bar only a few minutes after they'd met, needing to help out a friend with something. He promised he'd be back later, and Regulus was anticipating it more than he'd like.

"How come you didn't tell me you'd befriended a tall, smooth, hot-as-fuck cowboy??" Regulus asked Sirius, tone incredulous and annoyed.

"Because I knew you'd jump him, and I didn't want him to be your rebound." Sirius answered, giving him a pointed look.

"Oh, please." Regulus scoffed, downing his shot. "That man doesn't seem like he'd be at all phased by a little rebound." Sirius frowned at him.

"He may seem like a confident, smooth-talking cowboy, but he's also quite kind. Considerate. I don't want you breaking him." Sirius answered, and Regulus scowled.

"In case you don't recall, my last relationship ended with me breaking down sobbing in your arms and sleeping on your couch for a month." Regulus said pointedly.

"I do, thank you. But I also remember how you ended it with Will, who was really decent. Bloke texted me for  weeks asking why you'd done it like that. You fucked him up, Reg."

"He's fine. His fragile masculinity will survive." Regulus waved it off, playing with his glass. "But come on, Sirius, did you see James?? He's exactly my type. I mean, the curls, the eyes, and, lord, those thighs in tight fucking jeans? Send me straight to hell because I. Want. To. Sin." Regulus groaned, pleading to Sirius.

"No." His brother replied shortly, before going to tend to another customer.

*

It was only two hours later when James returned to the bar, but now the place was bustling, as it was 8:30. Music was booming throughout the place, full of happily buzzed people dancing around and on one another. Regulus was sat at the bar, glowering at his phone still in Sirius's back pocket. He didn't even care about Barty anymore, he was just bored. Or so he told himself.

"Hey there, fancy-pants." A voice rumbled in his ear, and Regulus startled. Then, he turned, meeting warm hazel eyes.

"Well hello, nosy." Regulus replied, fondly. He was pleasantly tipsy, just on the edge of drunk, his usual wall-like inhibitions lowered. James flashed him a pleased smile.

"Sirius still got your phone?" James asked, glancing at the busy bartender.

"Yes, the cunt." Regulus groused, his tongue also even sharper when he was tipsy.

"Y'know, fer such a pretty thing, y’ve got a filthy mouth." James commented, but it wasn't an admonishment. A wicked smile played his lips as he said it.

"Yeah? Well, what are you going to do about it, Mr. Morality?" Regular sneered, taking another sip of his drink.

"Ah’m gonna ask you to dance, sugar." James replied, and a pleasant shiver went through Regulus's body at the nickname.

"Sorry, but I don't dance." Regulus hummed, partly to make it harder for the man and partly because he really wasn't too confident in his dance moves.

"Mmm, ah think you do. Jus' has to be with the right person." James smirked. Regulus gave him an amused look.

"And you think that's you, do you?" He asked, swirling his drink around his glass.

“Ah think that you really want that phone back, and if y’ dance with me, I’ll get it for you." James rumbled, and Regulus's eyebrows raised.

"Is that so?"

"Yes sir." James grinned, and Regulus shivered again.

"How will you get it?" He asked, wondering how far he could push this man.

"D'you see him? His attention's on nothin' but the customer's drinks. Ah could easily tell him ah’m slippin' out, pat him on the back, and swipe your phone. He prob'ly wouldn't even hear me." James drawled, and Regulus looked at him contemplatively.

"Okay." He sighed, pulling himself away from the bar. "I'll dance with you."

~

Next part

[cevansbrat0007]

Cross-Country Christmas (Teaser)

Summary: After Ari is left stranded by a surprise winter storm, you find yourself wishing for a little Christmas miracle...

Warnings: Mature Themes, Angst, Ari Being A Menace, Holiday Themes, Smut, Arguments, Spanking (mentioned), Pet Names, Cursing, More Warnings to Come Minors DNI

A/N: This is only a TEASER, the longer fic is coming soon. Part of my Sweet Renegades Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!

8:30am on Christmas Day - Bell’s Creek, Texas

“I promise I’ll be fine, Beast.” Drying your tears, you crumble up your tissues in your fist before discarding them in favor of taking a sip of your coffee. “Like you just said, there’ll be other holidays. And certainly other Christmases.”

Ari was still stuck in Omaha. And while you had suspected this call was coming, you hadn’t been prepared for how much the disappointment would affect you.

By all accounts, your Bounty Hunter appeared to be in good spirits, albeit a little tired. He was still on standby, even though all flights were still grounded indefinitely. But you’d at least been happy to hear that he’d somehow managed to catch a few hours of sleep. 

Not only that, but he’d also made a new friend in some guy named Clint. They apparently had a number of things in common, with the most important being that they’d both served overseas. Ari had also alluded to his new buddy being in law enforcement as well. 

But if you were being honest, you’d been so focused on trying to sound positive that you hadn’t quite been able to focus on his words as much as you would’ve liked. Thankfully, Ari seemed keen on having a conversation – even if it felt a bit one-sided.

“The airline keeps offering to put us up for the night. Anyone who accepts will be guaranteed a spot on one of the first flights out.” Ari coughs softly before continuing. “However, if you’re willing to wait a little bit there’s talk about them sweetening the deal with some sort of voucher or somethin’, plus miles and all that shit.” 

“Oh?” Is all you can manage, forcing yourself to take another pull of your now lukewarm coffee.

“Yeah. So, Clint and I were thinking…” He trails off, briefly leaning away from the receiver to comment on something you couldn’t see.

“You two were thinking…what?” Your next sip of coffee tastes surprisingly bitter on your tongue. Maybe you would dump out the pot and brew a fresh one. 

“That we should take ‘em up on their offer and just ride this storm out. We take the points, get the voucher, and then maybe in a month or two, we go on a vacation together somewhere nice.” 

“You and Clint?!” You screech, accidentally knocking over your mug in the process. “Shit!” You scramble out of your chair to grab a dish towel and hurriedly mop up the mess. 

“Hate to break it to ya, baby, but Clint’s not really my type.” The Bounty Hunter chuckles into the phone. “I was talking about me and you, Bird. We can pick a destination and have ourselves a holiday do-over.”

A beat goes by before you respond the only way that makes any real, logical sense. Even though it seems to take every last bit of your resolve.  

“Okay.” Your voice comes out small and resigned. 

“Aw now, don’t fret. I’ll be home soon.” Ari does his best to reassure you. “And once I’m back, we will spend every waking minute making up for lost time. You have my word.”

Well, when he put it like that…

“I guess we can hold off for a little while longer.” You sniff, wishing you could just go back to bed and sleep until tomorrow. “But you had better keep your promise, Beast. Otherwise I’m gonna have to track down Santa and ask him for a new man.” 

Your half-hearted attempt at humor elicits a short bark of laughter from Ari which, in turn, makes you smile as well. It would be hard, but you could make it 

“Try it, sweet Bird, and I’m telling you right now that I’ll have you in my truck and over my knee before you make it outta the next county.” Comes his gruff response, clearly not enjoying the image of you hanging off another fella’s arm. 

You know without asking that he’s probably not kidding – so you decide to leave it alone. If he wanted to thump his chest a little, then you’d let him. 

“It was a joke.” You tell him when the line falls silent. Standing, you pad towards the fridge on bare feet, stopping once you reach the doors. Yanking one open, you survey the contents, silently wondering if you should even be bothered enough to cook today. Granted, you’d already brined the turkey so –

“Joking about my replacement isn’t funny, Bird.” Ari growls, the sound rumbling from somewhere deep in his chest. “Especially when I can’t be there in person to plead my case.”

You blow out a harsh breath at the same time as your eyes roll heavenwards. Why couldn't he understand that you needed to crack wise here and there in order to keep from crying?

END TEASER

[jolalibrary]

the games we play

Javier Peña x F!Reader

wc: 4k warnings: angst, ex-lovers back to lovers, one bed trope, alludes to smut, but no actual smut, set in narcos season two. summary: He welcomes every touch, every dig of your nail and every placement of your palm. He takes every minute you give him as they turn into hours.  written for @wildemaven and @wildemaven-prompts week 8 [this was meant to be short, i don't know what happened] javier peña masterlist

Sometimes, the heat in Colombia is gentle. 

He has found there can be a breeze, a small break from the sun’s touch. It blows against his shirt and swings against the skirts of dresses. 

Other times, it’s not so gentle. It can be stifling, and suffocating. It lays itself thickly on top of the weight of catching Escobar, bearing down on the uncomfortable tension from being beside someone he’s trying to avoid. 

It makes things worse. 

Tense. Unbearable. 

Like it is today, where the heat and the day have been testing him. Hanging over them, making even breathing strenuous, not allowing him to think straight, and causing his logic and reason to be difficult to grasp.

But then, being around you makes holding onto many things difficult. Made worse by the fact you’re only speaking to him when necessary. Memories of their argument flitting in and out, a constant reminder like a foot on his neck—pressing its weight down more and more. 

Boni— Do not touch me, do not look at me. Actually. Keep out of my way, Peña. I don’t… I don’t want to see you, never mind hear you. 

He’s frustrated—angry. The lead they’d been sent for had fizzled into dust and ash by the time the plane had even lifted off. Leaving them with nothing when they landed. Just some files, misty assumptions and corruption—things he could have examined behind his desk on base. 

Now, the two of you are stuck here. 

The storm brewing in the sky, darkening in the distance—ruining his chance of getting home, away from you. 

It’s why he’s been running his thumb over his two fingers—the other hand massaging the side of his skull. Desperate to ease the tension in his head, the dull ache he has from fighting all his normal reactions.

Your perfume has been wearing him down further. Intensifying in the heat and humidity the storm is causing, all prickling and ready to crash over the city. 

It’s not that one he’s worried about, it’s the one crackling between the two of you. 

It takes more than what he has left, to block it out, to pretend he’s unfazed. 

Normally, he’s happy to be off base. To be in any bed that isn’t that one. But, it’s needling him that he’s here for another night, sitting in failure, knowing there’s nothing he can do about it. From all angles, he is confronted with his mistakes—the dwindling leads, the choices he’s made, and the way he’s hurt you. 

Each time you allow your eyes to meet his, he sees it. Dancing, ever so gently in your irises, even if you try to blink them away. 

He hears you sigh. Hears it over his thoughts, his faux ignorance and forced focus. Having spent more energy than he likes on trying to keep cool, avoid what you’re saying—very quickly, and very fucking loudly—and the feeling of the beads of sweat which pool at the base of his spine. 

If he’s uncomfortable, he can’t envision you are faring much better. Your trousers are tightly fitted, cupping your curves to the point it’s been distracting. Your blouse, though elegant and flowing in places, is also long-sleeved—as if by covering as much skin as possible, he wouldn’t want to look at you. 

Not realising it’s your eyes and smile he fell for first. 

Not that you’re talking to him. In a way, it’s a blessing. He doesn’t need to scramble for an answer, bathe it in politeness before he shoots it your way. He can be sharp and bitter in his mind. Like he had been when you’d mentioned finding a motel to stay the night in. 

You’d apologised to him in English—as if all of this had been your fault—that he would have to stay around you for another day. Something knotting inside of him, desperately wanting to claw out and tell you that he likes being around you, and doesn’t want your apologies. 

He doesn’t say that. He said nothing. 

Now you’re trying to find them a room. Lifting his head, allowing himself a glance at you through his brows, watching as your hand lands on your hip as you continue to question and plead. 

Occasionally, he lets himself hone in on the odd word. Spanish rolling from your tongue with such ease. On any other day, he’d hang off your every word. Now, he tries to block you out as much as possible, fearing the way his mind conjures memories of sounds you made. The sweet ones only he pulled from you. 

The ones he no longer deserves. 

It’s why he hides from you, and buries himself away in a cave of his own making to keep a handle on himself and not ruin whatever is left between you both.  

He’s only just got you back as his colleague. Only just being able to talk to him about work without looking like you’re about to implode. 

Again, not that he blames you. He replays it, turning it over the fight. It flashes like lightning across his thunderous thoughts, clouded images of your sad face that twisted into fury, how your words slowly began to cut, laced with blades.  

Fuck you, Peña. I didn’t ask for this—I knew, I knew you’d do this. And you promised me you wouldn’t hurt me, and yet… you did, you have. 

His thumb slides over the pads of his fingers, catching the calluses and the healed scars. He keeps going, churning your words, over and over, not sure if he’ll be ever able to burn them from his mi—

“Javi…”

Opening his eyes, he finds you. 

Your fingers holding his arm, his own slowly unpeeling themselves from his skull. 

“I… I’ve been calling you for a minute.” 

Javi. You haven’t called him that for a while. Having chosen to call him Peña or fucker—and if necessary, Javier. Javi is what you called him before. When the two of you blurred the lines of colleagues and stepped close to being something more. 

Something he couldn’t give you. Something he tore in two because, of course, he did. 

Tilting your head, you frown, little creases in an otherwise smooth pool. “You good?” 

He drops his hand, half expecting your fingers to fall from him. But they remain. 

Not on the part covered by his short sleeve, but his skin. Skin that he is sure is already warm, but with you touching him, feels like an inferno. Your little prints burning into him, reminding him you’re solid, real—not a fantasy his mind had cruelly conjured to taunt him. 

Rubbing his arm, you offer a smile. “We’re both tired—our flight isn’t for a while, and this place has one room. So.”

You’re too fucking good for me, Bonita.  Yeah, Peña. I fucking am. Yet, here I am and here you are. I shouldn’t be.  Javi, what is going off… why are you here, why are you picking a fight with me, why are you hurting me for the sake of hurting me?

His silence is making it worse. 

He can feel it, see it. How there’s ripples under your mask. Concern bubbling to the surface, making things for him also float to the top. The need to make you smile, to make you laugh—to put you at ease and keep you safe. 

Javi has had those thoughts since the moment he first talked to you. Your spark and fire caught him by surprise, the way you wiggled your hips as you left him at the coffee machine rendering him more than useless. 

If they’re going to be able to survive the night, he has to bury it all. Stuff it so far down, swallowing back everything. It takes a lot to fill his lungs because of it, the air burning his throat as does so, keeping his eyes on you.

Forcing a twist of his lips, he stares into your eyes. Boldly. Maybe too boldly. “You trying to get me to bed, Bonita?” 

You scoff, slowly dropping your hand from his skin, holding the key up in the other. “No. But, knowing you, I know that wouldn’t be hard.”

He feels the space before he truly notices it. How you’d taken a step back, allowing air to flood between you both like a barricade. Then you turn, giving him your back as you jolt your head in the direction of the room. 

He’d looked past the bright pink, looked past the rusting railings because he had envisioned there would be two beds. 

Not exactly imagining in all the Spanish you’d been spitting that you’d have asked for one bed. 

But, there wasn’t. There wasn’t even a couch. Nothing. Just one double bed, two puffed pillows and a folded towel swan at the bottom. 

The room itself isn’t nice either. Bright shades and fuchsia pinks, all matching the chipped wooden door and the horrid railings outside. A part of him wonders why he thought it would be better inside. 

You brush past him, placing your bag down on the end of the bed. If you mind about the room, you say nothing.

Not about the soaring heat, the one bed or that you’re now sharing a room with him. He wants to ask, ensure you’re comfortable—that you don’t mind him being here. 

Not entirely sure what he’d do if you said no. 

You’ve only just begun talking to him directly, and not through Steve. Steve who had warned him and he hadn’t listened. “She’s good, Javi. Don’t fuckin’ ruin it by being you”. And he had. Trapping Steve in the middle until you begun to wear thin with Chinese whispers. It took so long, he almost forgot how to speak when you finally were able to string a sentence together without looking close to stabbing him. 

Javi knows he only has himself to blame. He’s aware of it—feeling it thrumming around him, whether or not your eyes cut into him. 

Look, you don’t want me, that’s fine. I’m a big fucking girl. But you don’t get to sniff around like some wounded fuck because someone else does. You don’t get to turn up when I’m enjoying myself and ruin it. 

If anything, Javi is used to making things worse in his personal life. He knows that he’s good with his hands, but not his words. That if you asked he could build you furniture, or put up a shelf; he knows how to please you, pull noises and expressions from you with his tongue alone. If he wasn’t so broken, he could be good for you. Not good enough, but be good. 

But, he isn’t. 

“You need the bathroom?” 

He looks up, finding you holding a smaller bag. “N-no. You go ahead.” 

You nod, motioning past him as he clears his throat. Wiping his bottom lip, he adds, “Look, tonight you have the bed—“

“Or, we can be adults and you can share a bed with me…” 

He swallows, watching you pause at the bathroom door, standing a little taller. 

Something he’s noticed you do more and more, having not been able to take his eyes off you. Not that he ever really has, since he met you. Watching the way you move around, the way you purposefully avoid even the space he’s in.

Fuck, you were maddening. Beautifully maddening to the point now, when he couldn’t have you, you have consumed everything. 

He deserves it, deserves worse—he deserves poisonous words and sharper glares. 

Now, though, you aren’t giving him that. Your look is more gentle. One he used to get, before…

“Peña, do you want this to be even more unbearable… and if you want to punish yourself, fine, sleep on the floor,” you sigh, swallowing the rest of your words as you lift your shoulders. “But, I’m not asking you to. If you want to be an adult, share the damn bed with me.”

His lips twitch, his hands moving to his hips. “You sure… about sharing the bed?” 

You offer a small smile, one that’s forced, but still there. “You know I don’t bite.” 

“You do kick, though.” 

You laugh, sharp—almost blending perfectly with a puff of air. “Don’t you forget it, either.”

“Wouldn’t dare, Bon…”

He lets the words trail off. The pet name he calls you comes too easily to his tongue. Dissolving into the air, feeling your eyes wash over him before the click of the bathroom door sounds. 

He can smell your shampoo. It’s that which stirs him from his sleep. 

He peers from the corner of his eyes, noticing the room is still smothered in half-darkness—the motel lighting blaring through the shit, thin curtains. 

The scent continues to tickle his nose. It’s a small respite from the smell of spice from the room service hours ago. The food hanging as heavy in the air as it made him feel when he consumed it. 

It takes a second, maybe a second too long, to realise you’re curled into him. He feels your breath dancing along his chest, realising his arm is around you, keeping you in place—chin on top of your head, just like the two of you have done with ease before. 

Just like the first time, your bodies betrayed you both then, as they are now. 

You stained him, imprinted on him. Made it easier to sleep, your warmth has never been too much, but always the perfect amount. Your head is never too heavy, but a weight he welcomes. And has missed. 

Get in the car.  No, fuck you. You’re the one who said this wasn’t serious. Bonita, get in the—  You have no right, Javi. Take your chivalry and your car, and go fuck yourself. 

He feels you move your hips closer, brushing over his other hand. It allows him, without trying, to fan his fingers more over your hip. Feeling the softness of your skin, the curve of you—his fingers lightly, and gently squeezing. 

It’s experimental, full of unsureness. Something he’s never known for, but you make him a wreck. 

Make him question things. Make him want things he’s not craved in a long time. 

So he begins sliding his fingers over your hip, unsure if you’re awake. The thin oversized tee you’re sporting is the only barrier from your chest being flush against his, raised above your hip, his fingers catching the hem of it occasionally. 

He should put space between the two of you. Should unfurl himself from you before you wake and realise what is happening. 

Before he sees that look in your eye. The one a perfect blend of ice and betrayal—topped off with a slice of hurt. He breaks good things, he’s realised. He doesn’t deserve nice souls and a person waiting for him. He’s impatient, selfish and… making so many wrong decisions. 

It’s why he hasn’t challenged it, your decision. 

Why he stood and said nothing when you hurled abuse at him in the street. He took each verbal punching, knowing the things he’s doing—knowing the danger he’d have been putting you in. 

That night, when you didn’t answer. You weren’t at Steve’s were you? Were you?  No. 

He’s been haunted by you outside of work, not just in it. Images of you, scarlet staining your clothes, limbs bent in ways they should never be. Either that or you appear in his head when he’s in the shower, when his hand is on someone else’s bare hip, frustrated they don’t feel or sound like you, frustrated he can’t finish because he misses you. Misses how good you feel, how you make him feel. 

Javi has spent more energy trying to fuck you from his system than he had done trying to keep you in it originally. Something he is more aware of right now, than he was on all the other lonely nights.

It’s why he doesn’t dare move, almost afraid as to what he’ll be confronted with if he wakes you. If your eyes would be murderous, burning a new print for him to hang in the misery museum he’s forged in his head. 

Whether they’d be soft… almost worrying if they’d be welcoming, not sure he’ll be able to be selfless and noble again. 

He should remove his hand. He should place the blanket, which neither of you wants to have over you, firmly between you. Barricade himself from you, stop you from falling and him being unable to catch you. 

Your breath dances over his chest, and he strokes ever so slightly on your hip. 

“Is now when you’d want me to bite, Javi?”

Your voice is a whisper. 

But he hears them as clear as if you’d shouted them. 

You let them land before you lift your face from his neck. You’re so close, the gap so minimal, so easy to close. 

He tenses, for the briefest moment, because of it.

“Bonita…”

“Kiss me, Javi.” 

He has you on your back before his name is even in the air, crashing his lips against yours, hearing the surprised muffled sound bleeding out from between both of your mouths. 

It unlocks it, everything he’s stuffed into the box in his chest. His hand sliding up your neck to grip your jaw, the bed groaning as he leans down over you, kissing you desperately—needing to make up for all the minutes he didn’t. He devours, he thirsts, and he wants all at once as he slides his hand up your thigh, lifting it over his hip. 

Thankfully you pull him close, tight—leaving no space for question or doubt. Your hands loop around the back of his neck, nails scratching at the base of his hair as your thighs press against his hips. 

His teeth run along your jaw, the tip of his tongue leaving evidence of his path. Your soft murmurs, pleases and Javi’s circling around the two of you. 

All he can think is: you taste like sweet, sugar and goodness. It’s a juxtaposition to his smokes, to the liquor normally on his tongue. Another reminder of how good you are, the cracks you proclaim you have so minimal, he barely sees them. 

He just sees you. 

Strong, beautiful you, who has a sharper tongue than most suits; a hook that forces blue and black to spread before someone even knows they’ve been hit. You’re all brains and strategy, and yet you’re also the most intoxicating thing he’s ever undressed. 

And so, he cages you in, unwilling, and unwanting to ever let someone else taste what he gets to. Keeping you close right now as though it can undo all the times he’s taken you for granted.  

“Mine,” he whispers against your neck. 

Unmeaning to. The word escaping. Making him freeze and you tense. He’s nervous, for the billionth time when he’s with you, he’s nervous as he meets your gaze. 

What he finds isn’t shock, but slight narrowed eyes and twisted swollen lips all illuminated in a reddish-pink hue from the outside. 

Tracing your knuckles down his cheek, your back arches into him, tracing your bottom lip with your tongue. “Prove it then.” 

And he does. 

His mouth tastes every inch of you, his ears take in every noise he hadn’t been sure he’d ever hear again. He welcomes every touch, every dig of your nail and every placement of your palm. He takes every minute you give him as they turn into hours. 

But, what he savours is the way you beg for more, how you chant his name. How your hand holds his jaw, muffling your moans against his lips as he fills you—feeling pride ballooning in his chest as you moan his name over and over again. 

Javi isn’t sure how much sleep the two of you manage. Not that he cares, and not that you’re complaining either. He groans when you slide from his arms, the sun rearing its ugly head through the curtains.

You smirk, and it does something to him as you begin getting ready. Something which makes him want to throw back the sheets and put you on your back again.

But you must read him—see right into his head. Not that he fights you to stay out. 

“We have a flight to catch.” 

“We still have time.” 

“Not the way we do it, we don’t.” 

So he relents. Choosing instead to watch you. Take in every glimpse of you he can get. Watching as you style and dress in the mirror, eyes occasionally meeting him as he feels himself smile. 

He wants to suggest not leaving, for a moment not wanting to entertain what goes off outside of these walls. He could rip up the tickets for their flights and keep the room for another night. Avoid the issues back where they work. The pressure, Escobar… Los Pepes. 

Javi doesn’t do that. Moving closer to you, half-wanting to just pull you close. Feel the way you fit against him, how perfect you do. 

He runs his hand down your wrist, wrapping his fingers around the strap of your bag. Lingering in your space, watching your lips curl, seeing the outline of himself in your lusting eyes as he presses you against the wall. 

“Javi…” 

“We have time, Bonita. I promise,” he whispers in Spanish, dropping your bag softly as he slides his hands around your hips. 

You don’t fight him. 

Sliding your arms around his neck, lips ghosting over his before you blink—and something shifts. 

“Javi… Look, before we get back and things… get complicated. I don’t want more from you than we can both give. My job, I love my job, Javi. I know you do too, I know you need to catch him...”

It’s changing, switching up in front of him. 

“What are you saying?” 

It comes out more defensive—tense. Suddenly feeling you're slipping through his fingers, for reasons far out of his control. For reasons he hasn't even caused.

He watches as you bite the inside of your cheek. “I don’t want you to bring me coffee, I don't want dinners and... I just want the us we were before, without the…”

You’re stressed. He can feel it. It vibrates in the air until he smooths his fingers over your cheek, soothing you in the only way he can.

“It’s okay…”

“I want to be yours, Javi. But, I don’t want us to change, not while we have things to do.” 

Placing his hand on your hip, he watches as your lips twitch. 

His pulse quickens, watching you take a heavy breath. “I know we don’t have more to give one another until he’s caught. And I’m okay with that. As long as…”

It trails off, your words. Your eyes glare as if you can burn the unspoken words in without needing to say them. 

He make you feel good, Bonita? Did he— You don’t get to act jealous when you were cock deep in a whore when I needed you, Javier. 

“Long as, what, Bonita?” 

You avert your eyes.

And he knows before you ask. He remembers it. Recalls seeing the number of missed calls and realising that you’d needed him. The hurt on your face, the look in your eyes.  

“Please don’t fuck any more whores. You called me yours last night, Javi. So don’t—“

“Only if you don’t go on any more dates with fuckers who don’t deserve you,” he says, fingers under your chin as he lifts your eyes back. 

Please. He adds with his eyes. 

You hold his gaze, slowly nodding before you softly smile. One he likes to think is all his. It holds his attention when it’s there, lighting him up, and spreading warmth through him.  

Both sitting in silent agreement, his fingers softening on your chin as he draws a line with his thumb. 

“If we do this, you and me, there can’t be secrets between us. Not like before.” 

Something twists inside of him. 

“I was the one who stole your cigarettes,” you confess, his eyes narrowing teasingly, as you pout. 

He kisses you, soft, and gentle. “I’ll forgive you.” 

“Your turn, is there anything you need to tell me before we leave?”

His face blanks—empties. The bundle of secrets swirl in his stomach, knotting around organs and guilt and the salty chips and chocolate from last night. 

For a moment, he thinks about it. Spilling all of it out, poisoning the moment and ruining what the two of you have only just managed to rebuild. His lips part ever so slightly, almost allowing the acidic ball in his throat to escape. It's all set to slip out and greet your ears. 

But he swallows it. Hides it. 

Shaking his head, he leans his forehead against yours. “Only that I’ve missed you, Bonita.”

Your hand clutches his cheek, cupping him gently. “I’ve missed you too, Javi.” 

[yanderepuck]

@faust-bite and I were talking about this for a few hours.

But the mansion + the castle is doing secret Santa. Everyone pulls a name. BUT. rather than a gift they have to do a PowerPoint presentation on the person, just going off of what you can find in history books. You cannot talk to the person for information.

Minor rules:

The writers can't do each other

The Frenchies can't do each other

The castle trio have to do someone in the mansion

The brothers can't do each other

Sebastian will obviously not be part of this, but he is enjoying every single moment.

Theo got stuck doing Will. Which he was really upset about, but now he's invested.

Vincent is doing Charles...the lil angel baby is up there talking about ALLLL the shit Charles has done. Faust is covering Charles ears every now and then so he doesn't have to hear.

Leonardo: I hated researching you

Mozart: ...what the hell did you find

Leonardo: WHY would you write to your sister about SCAT

Mozart: ....

Leonardo: AND YOU MEOWED AT PEOPLE. Goddamn catboy

You also have to take a shot every time there is immense trauma.

Theo and Mozart bonding over how much they loved their wives

Arthur and Dazai bonding over being awful to their wives

Theo: you may be into scat.. but at least you were nice to your wife

Mozart: forget everything you've ever known about me.

Vlad is doing Dazai, aka Sebastian is saying half the word because this man can't say a damn thing in Japanese.

Vlad: here's a list of Dazai's drug abuse

Dazai: is it in alphabetical or chronological?

Also take a shot every time Leonardo attempts to say Mozarts full name. Johannes Chrysostomus Wolfgangus Theophilus Mozart

Dazai got Jean and he starts out with "So Jean is a woman."

Mozart is doing Napoleon and the title screen just says "Panty Sniffer". The weirder your title the more points you get

Mozart: so he wrote a self insert love novel

Will: yeah...ARTHUR MADE US READ IT

Dazai: it was the worst thing I read

Oh. The writers pregamed for this. They've been drinking all day just for this.

Theo starts his presentation on Shakespeare and Will sits up like "Shit. I wish I was sober for this one"

Theo: there's not much on his childhood...but he did get married as a minor

Arthur: you WHAT

Theo: he got a woman pregnant and then rushed to get married...she was 8 years older than him or something

Will: what can I say. I'm hot.

Jean got Isaac. That poor boy. He's not able to say anything of these science words.

Faust: ..and in conclusion Vincent killed himself

Theo: THAT'S WHAT THE PUBLIC THINKS??

Napoleon got Vlad and the funny thing is...he isn't in history..so he's searching for Vlad the Impaler

Napoleon: He once ate a meal and watched a kid and the parents slowly slide down wooden stakes and made the rest of the town watch it

Vlad: oh come on! Comte you know I didn't do that

Comte: *still mad at him about something from earlier* I don't know that actually

Leonardo: I said he did it

Comte is now getting everyone therapy for Christmas. That's what everyone truly needs

[st4rbe0m]

SUMMARY ▸ 20 years ago, a gruesome murder shook the town hard. A type of murder that should've never happen, much less in their quaint town. A lovely family killed in cold blood with an unforgiving axe wielding maniac - a mother, a father and a little girl. It's been 20 years down the road, hasn't it? Then why are these 11 teenagers stuck in a loop of the same day, being haunted by a little girl who died 20 years ago?

PAIRING ▸ Park Jongseong (Jay) x reader ; additional pairings between characters as well , multi chapter story

TAG LIST ▸ open!! send an ask to be added

WC ▸ 2.5K

WOULD YOU LIKE TO CONTINUE THE BODY SEARCH ?

▊ yes -> CHAPTER 4

▊ no -> CHAPTER 2

BODY SEARCH MASTERLIST

A/N: happy enha comeback day!! i absolutely loved XO lmfao I really needed that fresh cute enha concept after all the vampires and blood. Moonstruck is just INSANE I'm so glad it isn't an intro LOL. Also the insane bf looks they served in the MV like !!! I too would like to go on a rooftop date with Heesung maybe 😞

Jake’s pupils are blown wide as he stares directly into the black abyss of where a normal girl’s eyes would be. A girl who wasn’t covered in blood maybe. A girl who didn’t possess superhuman strength and didn’t want to kill them in the most creative ways possible. It’s also the only thing he sees as the bloodied hand of the Red Girl, as the group had imaginatively named her, clutched his white school shirt. The fingers easily lifted him with dexterity, and casually flung him across the art classroom where he hid, his neck brutally impaled by the wood of the easel. 2 down, 8 more to go. 8 out of the 10 people who had been, against their will, sucked into this sick game. The Body Search.

The Day before as the Same Day : 10AM

Jungwon is nervously pulling his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he looks at each of the members of this little horror club, none of them meeting his eyes. He can’t really blame them, watching how their foreheads creased in worry and concentration as they scanned through all the evidence and information Jungwon had presented spread across the library table - newspaper articles, old books and heavy paperbacks all laid out for them. 

“So you’re telling me, that this little girl is using us because the cops never found her body when she was murdered? What does that have to do with us? Why do we have to find her body?”. Sunoo is exasperated, but mostly filled with concern. How many nights would they have to continue dying, only to wake up in the same day? “The parts are stashed across the school you say?”. It’s Giselle who interrupts, Heesung beside her rubbing her arm up and down in an attempt to comfort his girlfriend. But how could you comfort someone knowing that they were gonna die a painful death in a few hours time? 

“Why can’t we find them now?”, the deeper voice of Riki asks, and Jungwon just sighs when he explains, “That’s the game. It’s only at night. And you have to run from her. Honestly, even I don’t know more. Based on the books, that's how it’s done. And based on the news reports, she’s the only victim that checks out.” 

“It’s quite horrid though, what happened to her, is it not?”. Y/N’s voice is sort of shaky when she says this, the girl slightly worried about all the people surrounding her. “To be dismembered this horribly after that man kills your entire family, only to have your corpse go missing? She must not be able to rest peacefully.” Humming along, Jay added, “That’s true for sure. It’s quite tragic what happened to her”, making eye contact with Y/N as he did, his chocolate eyes gleaming with pity for the little girl. “But what I also don’t get is why she’s trying to kill us, when we’re just helping her rest easy?”.

“That’s what confuses me as well!” Jungwon added enthusiastically, and he just gestured at the books around him. “That’s the one thing I couldn’t find in here. Why is she trying to kill us?”

“Point is then, that we have to find her body parts right. Okay then.” As Park Sunghoon had disinterestedly made his entrance, he left the same way, hands shoved deep into his pockets and a scowl adorning his handsome features. Jake and Jay sprinted behind him, the two walking beside him, harsh discussion being whispered between them. Soon after the group adjourned, jarred by the discoveries Jungwon had brought forward. Sunoo and Riki went off towards their respectful classes, while Jungwon and Y/N walked together on their own. After contemplating it for a while, Y/N cracked open, and spilled what she saw to Jungwon - the well by the chapel and the hands. The flower pot. Jungwon nodded along, clearly disturbed by what she told him - and confessed to a similar vision he saw in the washroom, of a bloody hand reaching at his foot from under a stall. 

“Why do you think it’s only the ten of us who were chosen? We have dozens of students here, and yet all ten of us have nothing in common.” Jungwon asked inquisitively. “Hmm, I’m not sure. Maybe that’s the objective. Finding the most different people to put into this game. To slow us down maybe.” 

Jake had his lips pursed tightly as he continued witnessing the heated debate between Jay and Sunghoon. “We’re your fucking friends, dipshit! You can tell us anything man! But ghosting us for days on end, cutting off all ties? That’s low.” Jay spat out in anger towards Sunghoon, who’s forehead displayed a vein visibly ticking in annoyance. “I can’t fucking do anything okay!” Sunghoon just shouts back, the walls he built cracking down in the face of the confrontation of the friends he’s had since elementary school. “Ice skating and basketball. This and that. I’m fucking sick. I’m sick of the coach pushing this competition on us. It always ends up with me compromising one over the other, only because of how greedy he is for the medals, for the medals he never won. I’m a tool! A tool he projects on and I hate it! And most of all, I’m sick of the way I'm starting to hate both of them.” Sunghoon heaves a large breath after the last sentence, crumbling down to his knees as he does, while Jake and Jay stand there in shock, and sadness. It’s always been this trio of theirs. Ever since elementary, arms linked. The three could take over the world. Slowly inching towards Sunghoon, Jake ran his hand soothingly over Sunghoon’s back, and soon Jay joined, letting the silence and the weight of Hoon’s confession settle over them.

1AM : Current Day which is the Same Day

Jay and Y/N found themselves together in a classroom again. However, this time it seemed deliberate, and it was. Jay wanted to keep an eye on Y/N. To keep the girl close to him so he could keep her away from harm’s way - even though that was quite impossible here, in this twisted game they found themselves in. The lights were turned on in every classroom they could find on that floor, and the pair crouched around shelves trying to find any clues about the whereabouts of the dead girl’s missing body parts. “You know Y/N, for someone who declared themselves queen of tag when we were five, you don’t seem that good at your job”. The time the two spent in that classroom had opened up to a conversation and light hearted jokes, which blossomed to a budding interest as the two conversed, with Y/N not treating it as a conversation with her crush that would usually leave her as a blushing, stuttering mess, but rather, as a catch up with an old friend. An old friend whom she’d liked since middle school, with the kindest smile and the most wonderful humor. “Aw Jay, do you want to steal some of my Princess Pony bandaids again, just in case you get hurt again?”, Y/N teasingly jabbed back, to which Jay gave a genuine laugh and said, “Not my fault the bandaids looked good. Smelled good too.” The lights above them blinked once. Then again. Sensing danger, the two ran after sharing the same look of horror, and went into the storage room that was often used to keep supplementary books. Flicking the light switch inside the room that seemed to fail to light up, the two could only use the light from the illuminated fish tank in the room. That’s when Y/N let out a rather loud gasp, startling Jay who asked her fervently, “What happened?”. Pointing at the fishtank, they both saw the single forearm, tinged brown and covered in decaying bruises and yellowish veins, floating in the water. The lights in the main classroom seemed to flicker even more aggressively now, blinking angrily as the feet of the Red Girl came into view. Both of them knew what they had to do. Reaching into the fishtank and grabbing the severed arm, Y/N and Jay ran into the classroom, the Red Girl running towards them at the same time. “Chapel Y/N, now!”. Wielding a chair Jay had picked up, he madly swung it at the Red Girl just before she could reach Y/N, pinning her down against the wall, exerting all his might to make sure Y/N got away with enough safe distance. Turning slightly back, he looked to double check. Immediately, the Red Girl used this opportunity to jam the metal leg of the chair right through Jay, blood gurgling and spilling out of his mouth, as his eyes watered and went slack, falling completely to the floor. 

Y/N ran and ran, determined to get to the chapel. That’s when she saw the faces of NingNing and Giselle, sweaty and looking towards her, with an urgency in their eyes when they spotted the arm with Y/N. But as quickly as the look appeared, a look of fear washed over their faces. The Red Girl. Taunting Y/N as she took a few steps, smiling madly. Then, she began sprinting, sporting the same blood-curdling grin. Giselle jumped to action, pressing down hard on the button that began pulling down the shutters and gate of that hallway. “Are you mad, Y/N is out there!” NingNing screamed. “So what, do you want to die too?” Giselle retaliated. “Come on Y/N!!” NingNing urged, holding her hand out for Y/N, as the gate kept lowering, its mechanical groaning deafening against the quiet of the night. Sliding against the smooth floor, Y/N made it in the nick of time, with the hand in tow, gate dropping just before the Red Girl could cross over. Standing up, with Giselle’s back facing the gate she looked to the two girls and explained, “We need to get this arm into the coffin.” Grudges for how the two were ready to leave her out there could be settled later. This was more important. Nodding, Giselle said, “Yeah, for sure, let’s go.”. The metal of the gate moved up, metal bending unnaturally as a red hand appeared underneath it, grabbing Giselle by the ankle and pulling her down. The entire thing happening before Ning Ning and Y/N could even register it. A pool of blood appeared immediately, spreading down from under the floor, as the hand reached out again to grab Y/N this time, screaming as she went under, the hand flying into the air and landing onto the floor as it happened. Not wasting a second, NingNing grabbed the arm like hell. The coffin right in front of her as she reached the chapel, she frantically searched which arm it was that fit the cream colored molding. As soon as she placed the arm down on the coffin’s bedding, the Red Girl launched herself on NingNing’s shoulders, deftly snapping her neck in two, NingNing’s vision going immediately black, as the last thing she was a rotten hand lying on white cushions. 

The four are gathered again by the stairwell. “Sunoo and I didn’t make it quite far the second time. She seemed to find us quite immediately.” “Yeah, neither did I. I handled the Red Girl so Gi could escape”, a sheepish Heesung admitted, rubbing nis neck with one hand while Giselle clasped the other, squeezing it in appreciation. “Same, I stalled her so that Y/N could- hey did you get the arm in?”, Jay asked, spinning to face Y/N, startled by the spotlight on her. “Uh, I got killed right after Giselle.” “I got the arm in, don’t worry.” NingNing reassured the rest. “We’re one arm in guys. One body part down.”

“We can’t keep doing this blindly guys. We’re gonna need a plan” Sunghoon said. “I’d much rather go into this with a structure than just get gutted all the time.” A plan was required, that was true. And with the same idea, all nine of them turned their heads to look at Jungwon, who’s eyes widened. “Right, so now everyone needs me. Come to the library at lunch. I have a plan.”, the boy with glasses assured with a confident smirk on his face.

The scene felt almost familiar, with the way they were all huddled around the library table. This time, Jungwon had a blueprint map of their school spread out, and two markers in his hand. Enthusiastically the boy presented, "I give you the Rocker Mix Plan!", as he gestured with jazz hands on the map. Blankly the group just tilted their heads at him, failing to understand what the boy was talking about. Clearing his throat from the awkwardness, with a single red marker, he colored in the room Jay and Y/N had found the arm in. "Okay guys, look. Jay and Y/N found the arm in this room right. So this room is cleared. I've also noticed that the Red Girl also seems to be attracted to sound and lights. And we just have to use that to our advantage." "The PA system", NingNing said with a gasp, eyes widening in realisation as she slowly understood Jungwon's plan. Snapping his fingers at NingNing in joy, glad to have found someone who has caught on to his plan, he exclaimed, "Exactly! We play whatever music or something through the PA systems to distract her, or confuse her. That way we can search the rooms more easily. And then we report back on which rooms we've searched and cleared." "Jungwon you freaking Einstein genius. Have you registered for the Mensa? I think you should", Jake said with a laugh and awe, slapping the boy on his back in praise, which made Jungwon beam in pride. "Let's start off with this first, and adapt as we go."

Deciding to boost the morale up, Riki just cheered, "What's a creepy little girl to us, bro? We got this! Lets fucking do this!", he hollered, which was met with a harsh shushing from the librarian paired with a stern glare that made Riki just cower away.

The group giggled at this youngest's antics. They weren't going to go into this blindsided anymore. This time, they were gonna be prepared.

[corrupted-nightshade]

List of things that point towards Gojo Satoru & Geto Suguru being kissers of boys with connections to eachother

(If they did kiss though is another story)

Note: the list will be divided into different sections with space in between. So don't go speed scrolling through if you don't want spoilers. :"3

Some of these are less serious, but are still included because all the more content for these two sillies.

--- Last updated: April 26th, 2024 Note: Make sure to check the original post if viewing a reblog version in case Tumblr does not update things under the "read more" like it used to be able to.

Various

572. This number is used frequently as a ship number for the two as "GoGe" the ship name can also be produced as "GoNatsu". Go means 5 and the rest sound similar to 72. These numbers ironically show up accross the series a few times and also in official merch. (Some examples being a clock in season 2 episode 1 stopped at 5 hours 7 minutes 20 seconds or a Gojo teddy bear priced at ¥57,200)

JJK official fanbook

"Q: Please tell us his first impression when he first met Geto. A: Bangs."

"Q: He seems to be aware that he is handsome, but doesn't he want a lover? A: I can't imagine Gojo being faithful to a particular woman."

"Q: Is there anything you are particular about Geto's character design? A: Bangs"

One of Gojo's songs & one of Geto's songs given to them. "Shame on you" by "Avicii" (a break up song) for Gojo and "Come back Home" by "Two door cinema club" for Geto. Stated in volume 3 chapter 24.

The sheer amount of times Geto shows up in MMVs for Gojo and how they display the impact Geto had on Gojo (For example, the latest MMV for volume 26's release)

Their birthday's solar terms tying in with parts. (Geto being "Risshun" beginning of spring & Gojo being "Taisetsu" heavy snow.)

Rings for them that were released on August 8th, which is "Pairing day" in Japan

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Jujutsu Kaisen 0

Geto's kesa is specifically a Gojo kesa

Gojo stating in 0 that

"I've always believed... ...Love manifests the most distorted curses." / "This is my personal theory, but there's no curse more twisted than love."

Even after 10 years, Gojo recognized Geto's smell. (The mall scene after Yuta & Toge fought the curse)

Geto renaming someone to "Sato" because

"That's what I've decided, so Sato is better."

This sunset scene

Gojo's veil is black & Geto's veil is white. Gojo's veil causes darkness, Geto's does not. [Peep who reminded me]

The song "This is pure love" not only plays over Yuta & Rika vs Geto, but also plays over Geto & Gojo's conversation

The way that Geto looks at Gojo & says his name, and how Gojo looks at Geto & says his name

Geto's blushing face at Gojo that we were robbed of in the anime

Some of the lines from the JJK 0 light novel lines

"Yet Gojo's bandage-covered eyes kept watching, kept following the shape of Geto's soul."

"But to Gojo Satoru, he was —— '————, ————' '...ha.' When he heard the words Gojo blurted out, Geto couldn't help but laugh. Such embarrassing [...] words. Even why they were students, those words had never been said before. 'You should've at least cursed me a little before the end.' December 24, 2017. The curse called Geto had been well and truly exorcised."

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Season 1

JJK Juju stroll

"Q: What kind of person is your type?" Gojo: "[...]The one who seemed nice. With the notable bangs."

yes, i know who he stated but the way he answered was so half arsed as he struggled to come up with an answer as an example of his type. 💀

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Season 2

Again, the way they look at each other and say each other's names (There's another picture with Gojo looking at Geto, but I'm missing it right now)

THE HECKIN GOJO & GETO VALENTINES CAKE??

They literally even have a themed honeymoon place???

Geto makes sure Gojo has his favorite soda. :3

Part 1 / volume 8 - 9

The intro for season 2 part 1

"Even after I got to know the smell of you, different from mine"

"In such a color as if it were a silent love"

"I've got a curse word for you stuck in the back of my throat"

The outro for season 2 part 1:

"Even trivial conversations are fine Show me your blushing face once more"

"It only exists here I want to touch you"

The fish in the outro

The flowers in the intro & outro. [Peep who reminded me]

The purple ones (Located on table in the part where older Gojo is sitting in a chair by a window) are possibly Primula/Primrose flowers. They can represent young love, beauty, desire, desperate, and can be a symbol of spring and renewal/new beginnings. etc.

The yellow ones (Located in the part where Gojo & Geto are sitting together with their hands & cans of soda surrounded by the flowers) are possibly osmanthus flowers. They can represent love, passion, happiness, beauty, etc.

[See here , here, here , here , here , here ]

Geto not answering Tsukumo Yuki's question of what kind of woman is his type more than once

When Geto is asked by Haibara if he would like a sweet or savory souvenir, Geto says

"Satoru will probably have some too, so maybe something sweet."

Part 2 / volume 11

This whole image (Geto in the glasses on the left, and Kenjaku's silhouette on Gojo's face on the right)

Season 2 part 2's "Specialz" intro hidden meaning

Despite the following about Geto's state, Geto's body still instinctively reacted to stop Kenjaku from hurting Gojo.

"Q: Fake Geto's arm was moving during the Shibuya Incident, but how much of Geto's consciousness remains in the body? A: Not much. He was moving like how a dragonfly whose neck was torn off can move."

Fun fact: Some owls pair/bond for life (Whether the owl is supposed to be Geto's because Kenjaku is using Geto at the time or it's not Geto's animal because that is Kenjaku is up to you)

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Volume 26

The Camilla flowers with snow. Not only do they represent Gojo well with their meaning, including one meaning being unchanging/strong love alongside modest love / beauty for pink, but flowers are given to different dates. The birth flower of February is this flower, said to bloom on the 3rd of this month. Aka Geto's birthday.

Chapter 236

Gojo actively chose to fight on December 24th (a day considered romantic for Japan) which is now the day both Geto and him have died on. Even Kenjaku acknowledges the days significance with

"Ha ha! How romantic. Isn't it gross to make plans with each other on Christmas eve?"

These lines

Both Gojo & Geto's volumes' numbers can have bad meanings in Japan. 4 can mean death & 9 can mean to suffer/agony. (I put this under volume 26's section because of the spoiler)

---

There's likely more, but this is what we could think of right now. XD If you have anything you want to add on, feel free to send it my way because the more help the better & easier this is. (^w^ ) Same for any corrections to the list (as it's just me writing up this post and I may make slip ups)

[ladykailitha]

Grief (A Friend Indeed) Part 9

Hello, everyone! We are almost to the end. I have all twelve parts completed and will be posting them every Thursday until the story is fully published.

So what's next? With Royal Pain being done as well, I'm going to try and finish Well Met By Moonlight and Find Your Shade By the Moonlight. I will be back working on the soulmate AU Batshit Soulmate and the next book in the Boy with a Bat series called Never Hold Back Your Step for a Moment. I'm also starting that omegaverse story I thought up here.

We meet Steve's family and find out more about why Steve's parents didn't like that side of the family much.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

****

Eddie and Steve wandered around town for a couple of hours, doing a little sightseeing, a little shopping, and a lot just being themselves for a moment or two.

Soon it was getting close to time and they headed to the diner. They pulled up and got a booth.

Eddie and Steve slid into one side and told the waitress that they were waiting for someone and to just grab them a couple of waters.

The waitress nodded and quickly came back with the waters.

They didn’t have to wait long before Percy came through the door, the little bell announcing his arrival.

Steve waved him over and he smiled in return, hurrying over to the table. Once he was settled he told the waitress they were waiting on one more but if they could get a pot of coffee and two cups please. Eddie and Steve both got sodas.

“Who are we waiting for?” Steve asked nervously.

Percy twisted the ring on his ring hand, looking down at the table. “A friend.”

Eddie and Steve shared a glance, wide-eyed.

Eddie wrote something down on a paper napkin and slid it over to Percy.

Percy took the napkin with frown and then he gasped. “Both of you?”

“Both for me,” Steve murmured.

“Just men for me,” Eddie added.

Percy glanced around the diner nervously, but no one was paying any attention to them at all.

“Oh.” He let out a shuddering breath. “Just him.” He pointed to someone walking up to the diner through the window.

He was a tall man, thin. Long black hair, braided to the small of his back. He wore a suit just as nice as Max’s in a beautiful silver color.

He came over when Percy waved at him. He slid next to Percy and looked Steve and Eddie over.

“Who are these boys, Percy?” he asked gravely.

“This my nephew, Steven and his friend...” Percy began.

Eddie stuck out his hand. “Eddie. Eddie Munson. We’re actually in Kentucky because of my own grandma’s funeral. Steve wanted to come visit his grandma’s grave so we took a drive.”

“Where you from?” Percy asked. “I catch a bit of twang to your voice.”

Eddie grinned. “Indiana mostly, but my family’s from Ashland.”

Percy smiled. “Nice town.”

Steve smiled. “It has been so far.”

“This is David Estevez,” Percy said, shyly. “The reason you’re parents haven’t spoken to me in over a decade.”

“Ah,” Steve said. “Yup, Clint Harrington is a lot of things, but tolerant isn’t one of them and of course my mom just went along with it. Even though it’s her money and her family.”

Eddie clicked his tongue against the back of his teeth. “Let’s see, not white, not from here, judging from the accent, and not straight... anything I missed?”

David burst out laughing. “Not the right kind of rich. I’m a self-made man. I worked hard to be where I am today and they hate that. I grew up poor in New Mexico and made my money building computers in my mom’s basement. Now, I’m a multi-millionaire CEO of a major tech company.”

“Dustin would love you,” Steve and Eddie said together.

“Who?” David asked with a chuckle.

“He’s this kid we know,” Eddie explained. “He built a CB tower just so he could talk to his girlfriend in Utah and not rack up his mom’s phone bill.”

“He sounds like fun,” Percy said, rolling his eyes.

David dug his fingers into Percy’s side, causing him to squirm and squeak. “As if you wouldn’t love it if I did that for you.”

Percy blushed. “Maybe.”

He cleared his throat. “How are your parents, Steven? I saw on the news that there was a horrible earthquake last March.”

Steve gulped and Eddie gave his hand a squeeze.

“I really wouldn’t know,” he mumbled, looking down at the table, tucking his hands between legs. “I haven’t seen them in a while.”

David and Percy shared a glance.

“They did come back after the earthquake, right?” Percy pressed. “To see if you were all right if nothing else.”

Steve shook his head. “They didn’t come home when I was caught in the mall fire, why would they come home for something as inconsequential as an earthquake?”

“Mall fire?” Percy asked.

“You remember, darling,” David said, “the one from last year where there were thirty people who died?”

Percy expression cleared as understanding dawned, and then it turned horrified. “They didn’t come home for that?”

Steve shook his head again. “They didn’t come home when I got a concussion so bad I was out for several hours, or anytime I got hurt.” He rubbed a scratch that was in the surface of the table mournfully.

“Mom follows Dad around to make sure he keeps it in his pants. Not that it deters him,” he explained. “I heard him bragging once about how it’s a game to him now to see what he can get away with.”

The waitress appeared with their drinks. “Are you guys ready to order?”

“I’m not hungry,” Steve murmured.

The rest of them ordered, with Eddie ordering a side of cheese fries in addition to his regular side of fries.

Once the waitress had gone, Percy leaned forward. “How long has this been going on?”

“The trips started when I fourteen or so,” he continued. “But the older I got, the longer the trips were, until they just stopped coming home sometime around Christmas of last year.”

“Stevie...” Eddie whined. “Why didn’t you say something?”

Steve shrugged. “I’m an adult. It’s not as though I’m a kid anymore.”

Percy took his hand in his. “No, Steven. That’s not how parenting works. Ever. They’re supposed to care about you enough to at least tell you were they’re going and when they’ll be home.”

Steve looked up and into his uncle’s eyes. “The money changed them. They haven’t been my parents in over a decade. I’ve just been this trophy they pulled out whenever it suited them. Had to be first in everything. I’m surprised they only let me get away three sports instead of making me try everything.”

Eddie looked stricken. “The sports weren’t your idea?”

Steve shook his head. “It was a way that they could legally pawn me off to other adults. Probably the reason for all the piano lessons and the tutoring. How I met Nancy by the way. Gotta have the best grades, until someone puts a plate through my head, then I was just as disappointing as they feared I would be.”

Everyone else at the table let out noises of distress.

“You never should have had to go through that,” David whispered fiercely. “Ever. I’m sorry your parents were awful.”

Steve shrugged. “It wasn’t all bad. I have had adults in my life that cared about me. The Chief of Police always kept an eye on me. Dad stopped hitting me after the second time Hop, Chief Hopper, I mean brought me home after...” he trailed off and looked anywhere but at the people in the booth with him.

He cleared his throat.

Their food arrived and that last sentence was left to dangling in the air like the sword of Damocles over their heads.

Percy watched as Eddie pushed the side of cheese fries between him and Steve, taking a bite periodically, but mostly focusing on the rest of his food.

Steve reached out and took one of the fries, chewing mindlessly. And then another and then another.

David smirked when Percy indicated to what Steve was doing.

Eddie pushed them in front of Steve and he just dug into them like a starving man. He took half of his burger and handed it to Steve, too.

Steve took the half with a blush. “Thanks, Eds,” he said softly.

Eddie just smiled fondly and finished his half of the burger.

David started talking to Percy to help fill the silence and soon the sense of dread dissipated as they fell into easy conversation.

Soon they were done and their plates taken away.

David lifted his chin to indicate to Steve. “Where did you learn that if you got cheese fries Steve would eat?”

Eddie and Steve glanced at each other and Steve blushed.

“Is that what he did?” he muttered.

Eddie laughed. “It’s trick I learned from his best friend. When he’s upset he won’t eat, even when he needs to, but if you put something like cheese fries or onion rings near him, he’ll graze until it kick starts his appetite again.”

Steve looked over at him in shock. “Holy shit, I never realized. Who else does that?”

Eddie smiled at him, that closed mouth, fond smile that he was got around Steve. “Dustin and Max mostly. But El and Will have been known to do it once or twice.”

Steve blinked.

“Sounds like you’ve got a lot of people that care about you, Steven,” Percy said with a grin.

Steve nodded, blushing. “Yeah, I guess I do.”

He looked at his watch and sighed. “How’s this,” he said, “why don’t you use that business card I gave you when you get home and David and me will come out to visit you for a few days?”

Steve lit up. “Yeah? You’d do that?”

Eddie grinned. Steve had just gotten his boyhood wish of having an uncle that cared and he could feel the joy and surprise radiating off his friend.

“I’d love to,” Percy said. “I would love to meet your family.”

Steve grinned. “You’ll love them.”

David smiled, too. “I’m sure we will.”

They got up and hugs were passed around everyone and they said their goodbyes.

“Goodbye Uncle Percy,” Steve said, his voice a little rough with emotion. “Bye, Uncle David. I’ll see you both soon.”

David looked happy and shocked at being called Uncle. Jasper’s daughter would never. But here was this nineteen year old boy whom his partner hadn’t spoken to in literal years being more caring and decent after a single afternoon with him, then Beatrice had her whole life.

So he did the only thing he could, he hugged Steve again, more fiercely this time. “Thank you.”

Steve nodded. He wasn’t sure exactly why David was so grateful, but he understood enough.

As Steve and Eddie walked away, Percy and David watched them get into their car.

“How long do you think it’ll take before those boys realize they’re in love with each other?” David asked.

“I don’t know Eddie very well,” Percy said, thoughtfully, “but I imagine they’ll figure it out before we come visit Hawkins.”

David hummed. If he was a betting man, he would have said the end of the week.

But he just had to wait and see.

****

Pt 10|Pt 11|Pt 12

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @chaoticlovingdreamer @messrs-weasley @goodolefashionedloverboi @maya-custodios-dionach @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @emly03 @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @bookworm0690 @itsall-taken @bookbinderbitch @redfreckledwolf @vecnuthy @littlewildflowerkitten @scheodingers-muppet @mira-jadeamethyst @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @gutterflower77 @genderless-spoon @hel-spawn @ellietheasexylibrarian @anne-bennett-cosplayer @mamafaithful @yikes-a-bee @dragonmama76 @flaming-reauxster

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

How long has he been away from the kids, assuming he didn't go to Cali between NYC and London?

2 weeks now. My guess is it'll probably be another 1 or 2 weeks before he goes home.

The initial PR said Harry's itinerary was an 8-day trip to NYC and London, so since we know Harry had an evening event in NYC on 9/22, he probably flew out on 9/21. (I feel like there was maybe some CDAN gossip about Harry being in NYC on 9/21, something about Meghan blowing up his phone and Harry spending the night partying.)

So with 9/22 counting as Day 1 of the trip, that places Day 8 on 9/30 - the WellChild Awards - so Harry likely flew straight to London from NYC and was probably expected to return to California after the WellChild Awards.

Sentebale announced Harry was traveling to Lesotho and South Africa on 9/27, and Harry was in Lesotho on 10/1. He traveled immediately after WellChild and it was most likely a private flight since all commercial flights require layovers and are 15+ hours. On 10/3, he was in Johannesburg for a conference.

The Daily Mail confirmed Harry's African trip was to be 4 days long, which put his return flight on either 10/4 or 10/5. My money's on a 10/5 departure since the news that Harry is staying longer in Johannesburg dropped today.

The Daily Express called Harry's Johannesburg/Cape Town extension "an extra few days" and also says "there's also another trip planned which has been blanked out of his diary and he's keen to keep it very private."

Few is generally used to describe 3-4 days so Harry will probably leave South Africa around 10/9 or so, at which point I think he will be on his super top secret private trip. I'm honestly getting military vibes on that secret trip...are there British armed forces still in Afghanistan where Harry can relive his glory days? If it's not Afghanistan, then possibly Israel or Ukraine. Or maybe it's Invictus-related.

Otherwise my guesses are he's going back to the UK or to Australia.

(There was a lot of PR months ago of how desperately Harry wanted to go to Ukraine and be the first UK royal to the front lines - William beat him there - and there was a bit of Sussex PR awhile ago too about their desire to have a fauxyal visit to Australia, around the time that people were speculating about Charles visiting Australia before his visit was confirmed. And since the PR from Harry's travels is positioning him as statesman, it sounds like he might be going someplace thorny to wield his new talent.)

(And then my guess for going back to the UK is basically because of the August PR that he wanted to spend a month in the UK for his birthday and so he can be there when Charles publishes the LP activating the Counsellors of State for his CHGOM/Aussie trip, for which Charles will arrive in Australia on 10/18.)

If my predictions/theories are correct and this top secret very private trip is for immediately after this South Africa "friends and family" private time, then I don't think we'll hear about Harry being back in California (or making plans to travel back to California) until around 10/18 at the latest, which puts him at 4 weeks away from the kids, the longest (publicly) he's been away from his beloved children since 2022 when he was "stuck" in the UK for royal mourning.

As someone snarked on SMM's post, no wonder Harry uses a photo of his kids as his screensaver. He wouldn't know what they look like otherwise because he never spends time with them.

[usmsgutterson]

Okay, five hours ago I was like "tim gutterson timeline where?? me make one" and now. we have this. a timeline is in the post but it's rough, and this is more of a post that has a lot of information and headcanons in a rambled out format because whenever something gets stuck in my head, I write how I talk and I don't feel like editing this to make it shorter, so. yeah.

OKAY SO!! Going off of the assumption that's part canon and part headcanon that Tim would've joined the military at least within the year he graduated, you can't just join the army ranger snipers on a whim. You usually start in a differing unit (typically something like infantry, as far as what google said) and then you join the rangers and then you have to either volunteer or be recommended for sniper school, and it is a whole fuckin process that I have so much in my little head about. this is 20 gallons of information in a 10 gallon head and I feel like I'm going to explode.

OKAY, SO!! I have this little thing in my brain that's telling me Tim would've worked for at least three or four years in infantry before completing the ranger assessment and selection program, then he'd spend at least another three or four years working in the rangers before getting himself into the army ranger sniper school in one way or the next. As for length of schooling I've seen anywhere from 4-8 weeks.

for deployments I've seen varying lengths, but commonly I've seen around 3-6 months with the max being twelve. Leave is also pretty short for army ranger snipers (2-4 weeks) for I'm assuming mental reasons--they're trained to keep sharp all the time and short amounts of time for leave before they're back in combat keep their minds as sharp as possible.

Doing the math on that so far, if Tim joined the military at 18-19 years old, he would've been working in infantry until he was 21-23, then went from infantry to working in the rangers and worked with them until he was 25-27 before going through the sniper training and becoming a sniper around the same age as he was when he would've been recommended for sniper school.

Say he leaves the military entirely after his three total tours as a sniper, he would've been discharged when he was around 26-29 and in the military for around a decade. My math might be wrong (I have a brain that likes to go weeeeeee every time something kicks my interest up so. often times my head moves faster than my fingers can type and math has never really been my strongest suit) but even then, even if it's wrong, I feel like the latest he would've left the military would've been around 30 years old.

Okay, so to put years and dates and shit to this timeline, here we have the roughened out timeline of Tim Gutterson:

1980: we'll say around 1980 for a birth year bc Jacob Pitts was born in late 1979 so 1980 isn't that far off. I feel in my chest that Tim was born somewhere between September and December because I know people born in between September and December (with the only exception being october, I do not know anyone with an october birthdate) and the ones born in September, particularly, are the same breed of sarcastic Tim turns into after he leaves the military, a.k.a the one we see in the show.

1998: tim graduates high school yay!! He takes the ASVAB and goes about the whole of the military recruitment process, joins infantry to start.

2002: okay so going with the four year thing, Tim would work in infantry until around 2002-ish, at which point he takes the RASP and joins the rangers.

2006: after working in the rangers for four years, he gets recommended to join the snipers yay!! yay for timothy!! he's around 26 at this point and after sniper school he joins the 75th ranger regiment.

also 2006: let's say his first deployment occurs in the same year as when he becomes a sniper. It lasts six months and he gets about a months worth of leave in the aftermath. for ease of purpose and also ease of math, let's say that this deployment begins in June of 2006, ends in December, and the leave takes him from december to january.

2007: he gets deployed again in late january, and the deployment lasts until around the middle to late middle of July. It's his second and final deployment to Afghanistan, and after two weeks of leave, he's deployed again in August.

2008: after being on deployment through his 27th birthday, he comes home in february of 2008.

The timeline for military stuff ends right there if you're following the loose canon that exists (I say loose because the wikipedia states that Art only indicated a t l e a s t three tours total as an army ranger sniper. At least is not an exact number but instead the absolute minimum number of tours he did as a sniper.) but for me?? personally, I don't. I feel like he'd have at least another tour or two under his belt because he seems the stubbornly dedicated type and he knows that leaving means going back home when there's not really a home to go back to I feel like he'd prolong it at least a little bit.

If you follow the shows canon, Tim kind of just fucks around a little bit until he goes to Glynco when he's around 33-34 years old. It's said in the show in the first season that Tim is the office newbie who's been there less than a year when Raylan comes in, but I subscribe to the headcanon that Tim would've worked for six or so months, if not a full year, in an office down in georgia before he was transfered to Kentucky.

OKAY, TIMELINE ASIDE, tim would've seen a lot of shit in the like, decade or so he worked in the military. I've been reading on reddit a little bit and the bond we see in season four during Tims scenes with Mark makes a lot of sense--it was a common theme in what I did read that the army ranger snipers had a lot of cameraderie with each other and from what the reading I did told me, a lot of them went on to miss it after they left.

I need to stop rambling now so I can focus on the fic i'm trying to write but like,, if anyone wants to blab at me about this, blabbing is encouraged because tim gutterson is not leaving my head until I go to sleep, and I'm not going to go to sleep for at least a little while yet.

[brucewaynehater101]

There's like, what? at least THREE speedforce users concentrated in a singular time period? and the word concentrated sounds a bit extreme until you remember the fact that these btiches have power over time; they can timetravel

Impluse did time traveled and has made a place for himself in an older time period permanently

Compared to that, the metabolism's hardly a big deal at all

and unless their world/universe/multiverse is isolated in it's own bubble where not even timetravel gets out, that means their time shenanigans likely affect existing multiverses outside their own so that's a doozy to comprehend

And time travel isn't even exclusive to speedforce users, nothing is sacred, there's magic, and sciences and magical sciences, probably metas with time powers and there's also time loops and---

As far as we're aware, there isn't just THREE speedforce users who can and will time travel if it's called for, but multiple other instance of time travel or manipulation, all concentrated in a singular time period

that fucks shit up

anomalies that people might not even pick up on because the screwing of reality has affected their very minds become the norm; because minus this time period the whole rest of the timeline, before and after that era, is in perfect working order

this particular patch of the timeline is mangled forever and irreversibly, before anybody knew there was a timeperiod in need of unmangling

The clock ticks onward---the heroes and villains, and everyone beyond moves on and dies and the next generations after them don the spotlights, and time marches existence onwards as it always has; that's true, that's permanent. It's ineffable truth

Nothing has changed

you say it feels like just yesterday we did this very act as though it weren't the case

The clock ticks onwards---1:00, 2:00, 3:00, 4

5, 6, 7, 8

9, 10, 11

this is how the world ends

11:30

this is how the world ends

11:50

not with a bang

11:59:59

but with a---

1:00

this is all to say that this is my headcanon to explain Tim's Forever 21 17

and also other plotholes; and maybe you can take this hc to make an AU where there's more shenanigans than ceasing to age at a certain point due to a time period being Eternal even though the rest of the timeline is still perfectly functional

=======

( as for wtf the whole clock stuff was meant to convey, it references the reblogged 'prokopetz the eleventh hour' post )

"...“The Eleventh Hour” is generally used to refer to the Last Possible Point BEFORE everything goes horribly sideways, so this would suggest that you are in a place perpetually stuck at the terrible and fruitless moment just shy of impending disaster. "

-- askmissbernadette

Ooh! AUs/HCs that explore Tim's perpetual state of 17 are rad as hell (although thankful he has finally been allowed to become an adult).

I never did quite consider the ramifications of multiple people messing with the timeline. For one person, we've seen so much media that warns against it and shit. Multiple people that aren't communicating before, during, or after their interventions? How the hell does the space and time continuum not collapse?

Then, the multiverse theory is added on top of all that? My brain is a little too tired to try to even comprehend how bad of an idea it all sounds (for the speedsters and other people who mess with the timeline).

I like to hc that some of the universes that pop off are consequences from a Flash or anyone else screwing up time. It'd be cool to see some angst regarding that (let's say Bart went back in time to save Tim in his universe which caused another universe to lose their Tim [and the domino effect of that unplanned loss for that timeline]). That, or the rewritten history causes new universes to form as a result of the many many paths and choices that can happen after that change.

It'd also be fantastic to see a villain who's like Miguel from Across the Spider-Verse, but worse. A person who picks and chooses universes that they think best suits their needs and desires. They keep hopping to other ones when the one they are in is no longer suitable. They also integrate themselves into the universes with ease and sometimes murder that universe's version of them to take their spot (they prefer kidnapping, though, so that the OG person can resume their life when the villain leaves).

Anyways, there are some great fics out there that chat about Tim staying 17 and/or the other Bats having weird timelines too

[theangrycomet-art]

Hi! I saw your posts about Monty and Chica getting their own kids. Would you do one for the Daycare Attendant/Sun and Moon?

Glamrock Kids: Neil and Tay

I have some rough designs for both actually, though I'm still figuring out the details of each kid as well as ironing out both of their timelines.

Becky Neil-> Bonnie Tay -> Sun/Moon

TLDR: We'd get an explantion for Bonnie's whereabouts, some vengeance on his behalf, and/or some character exploration on the DCA (and potentially Eclipse).

Neil has two settings, the Prequel Route (probably better suited to a DLC/flashback/minigame) and his Present-Day Route.

The Prequel Route would take place a few years before the events of the game when when Neil (at that point known as Becky) is roughly 8 years old at an overnight party in the daycare. This route would finally explain exactly what happened to Bonnie and how Neil barely escaped Vanny's clutches.

The Present-Day Route would be where Neil (13) is investigating the Pizzaplex to try and find where Bonnie went and repair him while defeating the other hacked animatronics. Depending on his choices, he can take either spare parts from the shattered animatronics or find the hidden spare parts scattered across the Pizzaplex. Different endings would result in who he decides to reboot or shatter.

Tay (13 as well) is stuck in the Pizzaplex due to leaving their only blood sugar reader kit behind. They end up searching in the Daycare where Sun bursts in on them with his usually... exuberant hello.

Together (read Sun) finds the kit in the ballpit (having probably been thrown in there via the slide by some bully). The DCA then initially tries to rush the kid out so they can exit the building in time, but after scanning the kid, notes the insanely LOW blood sugar levels as well as several cuts (from their earlier frantic searching).

The delayed exit at the insistence of firstaid treatment and Sun's strange indecisiveness of actually leaving the daycare himself forces Tay to miss the deadline, trapping them for the rest of the night.

Gameplay wise, I feel like it would be fun for Tay's route to sort of be a bonus route you get after completing the others that allows you to explore the pizzaplex in its entiretly without having to deal with as much security so that the player can unlock ALL of the secrets as well as any additional bonus content.

But on the other hand, Tay's route could be an extra hard mode with having NO safeway to walk around the Pizzplex, having to be aware of food intake, having limited or 0 access to cameras, AND having to escape his only ally attempting to kill him every hour.

Plus the thought of Sun constantly panicking about the kid/s safety and Moon trying so hard to fight the glitch to keep this kid (who is one of the few humans to treat both of them the same way) safe at all costs is far more entertaining.

There is also the potential angst of Tay "fixing" the DCA by rebooting him into Eclipse as seen in the Ruin DLC and Eclipse not remembering them.

[rapha-reads]

Things from Interview With The Vampire s02e04 (ep11) I noticed:

[Edit 1: Actually this turned into a live-commenting, sorry]

[Edit 2: Keep in mind, I haven't read the books, so all of these observations are born from the show itself and the few (lots of) spoilers and narrative plot points I've gleaned here and there.]

Both Claudia and Louis are so bored with the coven. Or maybe bored isn't the word, but... Done? Frustrated and annoyed? Restless? Louis because he never intended to join and so cares not all for all their internal affairs. Claudia because she thought she'd finally have the life she wanted and instead is being forced to relive the tragedy of her life day after day.

And Armand rejoices in drawing them further apart, scolding and punishing Claudia while begging scraps from Louis.

And he's soooo jealous. The face he makes when Louis starts explaining what Dreamstat feels like is priceless.

Also, personal theory: either Louis is indeed suffering psychotic breaks after psychotic breaks, or just manifesting his own version of Lestat because he doesn't want to let go. Or Lestat can astral project and has been stalking Louis from the moment they left New Orleans.

The coven is tearing itself apart. And normally I'd add "and Armand isn't even seeing it/taking it seriously yet" but given that the whole of them are unreliable narrators and that Armand is a shady ass bitch whose only agenda is himself, I'd say he's well aware and purposefully making it worse.

I can't make sense of Santiago yet, though. Is he jealous? Ambitious? Is he fond of Claudia? Does he hate her? He definitely hates Louis, but is it just jealousy or real antipathy? Oh, but Louis is still my precious special kitten and that speech about Paris, art and modernity, as a contemporary culture student, made me vibrate a little out of my chair, and Santiago clowning him makes me want to claw his face. We get it, you hate him and you think he's pretentious, now can you shut up and let us talk a bit more about the art scene in Paris post-WW2 and why Louis is absolutely right, Picasso isn't all that impressive in the end? Thanks. Bacon tho, Bacon is interesting. My contemporary art teacher last year was excruciatingly boring, but he had a boner for both Louise Bourgeois and Bacon and we spent several hours on them (and not nearly enough about Mapplethorne, alas). Anyway. I feel ya, Lou. I have been called pretentious too for simply getting excited about art, culture and folkore.

I'm rooting for Louis and Claudia to kill them all off and run away to Italy. I know it won't happen, but one can dream, eh.

Is Armand messing up with both Daniel by getting into his mind and Louis by switching the photos? Interesting. Two people who have a shitton of issues stuck with a sadistic, insecure and bitter control freak who's been pulling the threads since way before anyone realises. And Louis is so lost in his trauma and grief and anger, he trusts Armand and doesn't see what's happening and been happening to him for 70 years, while Daniel is just a sad, sick old man who thinks he knows his life and what his future entails. Armand is definitely having fun.

"Je n'aime pas fenêtre quand fermée" is NOT FRENCH, MY EARS. I will be picky, I don't care for artistic licence. Correct sentence would be "je n'aime pas les fenêtres quand elles sont fermées". Admittedly, if it goes into a song, you'd have to respect the length of the line and all those musical measures. But still. You could shorten the numbers of syllables by dropping the language register: "j'aime pas les f'nêtres quand elles sont fermées" ; from 12 or 13 to 9, the original line being 8 or 9. Depending on whether you say "je-n'ai-me-pas" or "je-n'aim-pas" and "fe-nê-tres" or "fe-nêtres". Anyway. I'm sure the writers had those discussions (I hope; hey, AMC, hire me, I'm a good proofreader and I speak 5 languages).

Me: oh, Louis isn't even bothering now, he's directly talking to... Wait, is Lestat eating that photo? If it's Dreamstat: the hell is going on in your head, Louis? If it's Astral Lestat: that is certainly a choice, my friend.

"Barely Balthasar", LMAO, Lestat I fucking love you. Poor Balthasar always gets forgotten in adaptations. Nope, we're not here to talk R&J, moving on.

Armand: "this is my tragic backstory. Feel pity for me. I'm the good guy." Me: yeaaah, how much of this is actually real? And, uh, no, like Lestat said: ha! You're a storyteller and a conman, Armand. You weave your story to pluck at the heart's threads of your audience, modulating it to their sensibilities to better serve your own interests and your plans. What are those interests, these plans? Hell if I know. But I absolutely do not trust you at all.

HANDS OFF CLAUDIA OR I'LL BITE

"The wilderness that is our daughter" have I said lately how much I love Lestat.

Oh, hello, the Loustat scene on the bench just broke my heart, which is funny if you consider that that's just Louis breaking up with himself. Also, do we consider Louis knew about the initials in the pocket, and Dreamstat is saying what Louis wants him to say, or is it another unreliable narrator Louis, or is it Lestat himself...?

Aw, going from the Loumand scene on the bench to "toxic gay divorce with body count" sure is a tonal shift. Lmao. You're losing your touch, Armand. Louis' awakening. Daniel's awakening... San Francisco next, that will be fun. Excited to see how they've changed that part, knowing it's the red thread of the first book.

...

Oooh, that got long. Apologies. I really need to sit and read those books.