#because it’s the same logic snow uses

[jewishbarbies]

if you’re one of those people that think katniss would be fighting for palestine in the pro hamas way and be on your side, while simultaneously cheering on the murder of children as long as they’re “the enemy’s” children, you’re gonna wanna re-read those books, bud.

[yelsapo]

I honestly think this episode was meant to be confusing in a sort of Alice-in-Wonderland-ish way, where the loose ends won't/aren't meant to be tied up later. It's confusing and random, but that's the point.

Kate tells Ruby, "It's what we all do. We see something inexplicable and invent the rules to make it work."

And I think that might be exactly what Ruby does. Stick with me PLEASE

The premise of the episode opens with a superstition: a fairy circle. Something surrounded by stories and myths that don't necessarily make sense, and yet many people form their entire lifestyles around these belief systems because they explain the unexplainable for them.

The woman that follows Ruby appears to chase people away from her, or convince them to abandon her, which is clearly a common theme within Ruby as a character. She's afraid of being abandoned.

Typically breaking a superstition means that you're going to suffer some sort of misfortune as a result, right? If you were to break a superstition that you believed in (ie. ruining a fairy circle), what misfortune would you fear most happening to you? For Ruby, it probably centers around her fear of abandonment.

We know that Ruby is supernatural in some way. She's definitely not a typical human. She can make it snow on command? Who's to say that the "silly little explanations" that she makes up to make sense of her unknown don't ACTUALLY come to fruition. What if she has the power to do that?

So, let start from the beginning. Ruby and the Doctor break a fairy circle, an action which culturally means bad luck. In Ruby's mind, her worst luck would be to be abandoned by everyone, and to never find her birth mother in the end. And that's exactly what happens.

Roger Ap William is a name mentioned by the Doctor in the first couple of minutes of 73 yards. The only information that is given is that he was evil, welsh, and almost brought the world to nuclear destruction. That's all Ruby knows. Mad Jack appears at first to be some arbitrary name Ruby reads on a piece of paper, but is later revealed to literally be Roger Ap William? How coincidental is that? I don't think that Roger and Mad Jack are actually the same person. In fact, Mad Jack probably WAS just someone's dog. They were just two names that Ruby had recently heard, and then drew an imaginary line between. To further the point, Roger is SUCH a caricature. His only three personality traits are quite literally evil, welsh, and likes nukes, which is all the Ruby knew about him.

Throughout the episode Ruby finds herself in a situation that doesn't make sense, so she comes up with her own explanations to make them make sense. She invents her own rules and her own mission. She comes up with a string of tasks that aren't logical to us, but it's the explanation she has come up with given the information that she had. She's convinced herself that it makes sense. She starts to form her lifestyle around a belief system that she created because it explains the supernatural she is experiencing.

And because of whatever supernatural abilities surround her, she's actually making her percepetion of reality the REAL reality.

(Edit: Not to mention that superstitions have been a common theme this season (ie. 14 invoking that salt superstition in WBY kicked off this season's entire plot) AND WBY is the first case in which we see Susan Twist as well...

It all leads back to that moment.)

[hedgehog-moss]

This particular patch of woods between two cow pastures is my favourite place to go when it's cold, because there's a little stream in there that meanders in a very whimsical way, dividing itself into spiderwebs of rivulets then becoming one again, winding around every other tree, it's delightful.

The stream is smaller but still here in summer, but I like it best in winter because it sounds so delicate! In some places it runs under a thin layer of ice with a light glassy sound; in others there are branches across the stream with dozens of little ice drops hanging underneath and making a tiny tinkling noise.

This patch of woods can be hard to find though, as it's tucked between two very large pastures that are completely featureless in winter. But Pandolf knows what we're looking for now, and since he's not distracted by cows in this season, he led us right to it.

Congratulations Pandolf! You are useful !

Although it's not a forest, it's easy to get lost here in winter when all my landmarks have disappeared, so I always follow the stream. One of the most recognisable spots is a hollow tree stump that looks very old and gnarled and full of character in summer, but sometimes in winter it almost entirely disappears and looks like a massive soft marshmallow (until you stumble upon it) (it hurts)

But as long as we don't lose the stream, we'll find our way back.

So of course I quickly got distracted and lost the stream. First because I found deer footprints, and they looked so much like Pampe's footprints I had to examine them and then look around suspiciously. (She wasn't following us. It was a deer) (I'm almost sure)

Second, because the woods kept stealing my hat.

Third, because Pandolf was being recklessly ambitious.

After walking in circles for a while, instead of the stream I found a barricade of shrubs forbidding access to a mysterious meadow. (Mysterious because I have never seen this place in summer. There are no charming small meadows here! It's pasture / tangled woods / pasture!)

I did not have time to inspect yet another fae meadow (and didn't feel very welcome here), so off we went again in search of the stream which is our only reliable landmark.

Then Pandolf found a way out all by himself:

He was very proud to show me the cow pasture, because in his naive dog logic he assumed I was still looking for the stream in order to follow it and leave the woods. In my better human logic, I was now looking for the stream because streams have no business disappearing like that and I was taking it personally.

How did we lose the stream, Pan? It's supposed to be everywhere!

What was annoying was that sometimes I could hear soft stream sounds, but saw nothing...

It took me a embarrassingly long time to figure out that the stream was, in fact, everywhere.

I'd never seen the stream frozen, let alone frozen + covered with snow! I suppose it was only frozen here and not near the pastures because there's less sun in the middle of the woods and the stream is wider and runs more slowly. It was a bit fun how every time we brushed aside some snow or found a snowless spot, we discovered a piece of the missing stream right underneath.

... well, at first it was fun but then it got a little bit worrying, because the ice was quite thin and cracked easily if I knocked on it politely, so the only thing keeping me from falling knee-deep in icy water with every step I took was the layer of compacted snow. Which I didn't trust. In places where I remembered the stream being wider (so most of the snow in these areas was potentially traitorous) I tried to walk very lightly and carefully, as if it's possible to tiptoe lightly with snow boots.

Pandolf just walked normally, completely unfussed about the fact that he was (literally) on thin ice.

I think he could tell I was nervous but didn't know why. He looked pretty confused whenever he turned around and saw me walking like an Andalusian horse over the same spots that he'd just trampled happily.

I'm fairly sure he knew all along that the stream was under our feet. I wish he'd told me! But maybe he could tell the ice wasn't cracking under his weight and he assumed I too knew what I was doing.

We made it out and I only stepped right through the snow and ice and into the horribly icy water once! One soggy boot was less bad than the fate I expected when I realised I was standing in the middle of this patch of woods surrounded by a pretend-snowy ground that was actually just water.

Then I reached my car and found that I could not open any door because they were frozen shut. This had also never happened to me in the middle of the day when I parked in the sun and I felt persecuted. Thankfully I was not too far from a farm; I told Pandolf to wait for me in the nearby pasture (in case of farm dogs; I didn't have his leash) (it was in the car, keeping warm next to my Thermos of tea) and I went to knock on the door and humbly ask to borrow some hot water. The woman who answered the door noticed my very wet boot and I think she initially assumed I wanted hot water because my foot was frozen and I'd already lost three toes, but I reassured her that it was only my car that needed unfreezing.

When I returned to my car with the bottle of hot water, I found Pandolf waiting for me in the pasture as instructed, but he didn't notice I was back until I'd almost reached the road because he was busy doing what he does best. (And it's not crawling under trunks.)

[phoward89]

Based on this ask

WARNING: dub con, non con, dark!Coryo, dom!Coryo, soft!dom!Coryo, overstimulation, vibrator, sex (p in v), slight degradation, spit kink

Coriolanus Snow was thriving under Dr. Gaul. Between his studies at the University ( double major in Military Strategies and Political Science) and his work as Dr. Gaul's assistant (he was quickly promoted from intern to personal assistant due to his cunning and cold nature, which impressed the mad scientist) he was a very busy young man. You didn't see much of him anymore, even though he's been your best friend since you were both little.

You weren't mad about it though. You understood, he had responsibilities and spending what little time he had with you was impossible. He has a family to spend time with.

And a girlfriend.

Your stepfather, General Prometheus Byzantine, had made sure to drop the fact that Coriolanus Snow was seeing Livia Cardew one night during dinner. He just casually dropped the ball, as if he was talking about the weather.

Your little brother, Darius, who had just started the Academy, gave you a sad look of empathy. He knew how you felt about your best friend.

You thought that your parents didn't know, but they did. Your mother and stepfather knew that you were, somehow beyond all logic, in love with your childhood best friend. And your stepfather, being a wartime hero, was on the war council that was headed by none other than Dr. Gaul.

Yea, the same Dr. Gaul that your best friend, Coryo, was studying and working under. 

You didn't know it, but your stepfather talked to the mad scientist about how he was going to be arranging a match for you soon, but he needed her little lab rat out of the way because he was around too much. Would corrupt you. General Byzantine also told Dr. Gaul that you were too sweet, too innocent for a young man like Snow. That he'd never approve of the match, so she better push him into somebody else's arms and away from you.

Cue Coryo's relationship with Livia.

But unknown to you, that relationship ended before it even reached the month milestone.

The real reason why the platinum blonde that held your heart in his large, calloused hands was absent so much from your life was because of the project he was working on with Dr. Gaul.

A very important project that was commissioned to cure the female ailment known as Hysteria. Something that doctor's stopped diagnosing near the end of the early 20th century. 

But now, well into the 22nd century, Hysteria in women's back and the treatment for it can be quite time consuming and strenuous on a doctor's wrist. 

So, Dr. Gaul and in extension Coriolanus Snow were commissioned to recreate the treatment tool of old that was used to help alleviate women's hysteria thru hysterical paroxysm.

The tool of old was an industrial grade electric vibrator. To be used by doctors to treat stressed and agitated women by bringing them to orgasm via clitoral stimulation.

It truly was a practice done in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. One that, apparently, was back.

Or at least the vibrator part of the treatment for hysteria would be back once the device was finished, tested, and approved. Until then, the doctors of Panem have to do manual clitoral massages to treat hysteria.

“Mr. Snow, the device is ready for live subject testing.” Dr. Gaul told Coriolanus, turning the vibrating tool off and placing it down on the work table.

Coriolanus wanted to laugh his ass off at Dr. Gaul's professional demeanor when it came to announcing that the vibrator was ready to test on pussies.

When his mentor told him what she'd been commissioned to make, he sprayed his tea out of his nose and literally choked. He couldn't believe that doctors had to bring their female patients to orgasm by roughly rubbing their clits because they were agitated and stressed due to sexual frustration. And the fact that the Capitol husbands were sending their wives to doctors for both the diagnosis and cure of hysteria (sexual frustration) baffled him.

Couldn't the husbands just play with their wives pussies themselves?

Dr. Gaul assumed that Coriolanus’ reaction to her commission project was one of proper breeding. Proper gentlemen are brought up to treat their women like dainty china dolls in bed, and to only use them for heirs. That lust was wrong to feel for a wife, a woman of proper breeding. That a gentleman was expected to join a sporting club (a sex club or brothel) in order to enact his base and lustful needs.

So, Dr. Gaul assumed that those teachings were the reason for Coriolanus' reaction to them having to invent an industrial grade vibrator for medical use.

She never once thought that the platinum blonde was judging the Capitolites backwards view of sexuality.

Coriolanus wasn't shy when it came to sex, but maybe that's because he spent some time in District 12 as a peacekeeper. Sex wasn't dirty and taboo in the districts. Hell, random hookups behind an alley with someone you met mere minutes earlier was a norm. Girls that looked so cute with their big doe eyes and simple cotton dresses would drop to their knees in a snap of a finger to hungrily suck cock. Those same girls would bend over, eager to take a cock. And half the time they didn't care what hole it was shoved in. Ass or pussy, as long as they got a good pounding that made them see stars. And then there were those handful of girls that would let a pair of Peacekeepers spit roast them.

So, safe to say, Coriolanus had a sexual awakening while a peacekeeper. He learnt what he liked, what he didn't like, and all of his kinks over the course of a summer. 

And his sexual appetite didn't change when he returned to the Capitol. But, unlike the other gentlemen in the Capitol, he didn't join a sporting club. He wasn't going to pay for a sex club membership when he could go out to Pluribus’ club, pick up a pretty girl, and fuck for free.

He just wasn't counting on the capitolite ladies to be prudes.

And the biggest prude of all was his ex.

Livia Cardew.

She didn't want to do anything-

ANYTHING-

-until her wedding night. All because of what she was taught, what all proper Capitol girls were taught. 

And just the thought of sucking cock disgusted her. She even slapped him across the face when he suggested it.

So, before they reached their month anniversary, Coriolanus broke up with Livia.

He also threw himself head first into his studies and work as a way to keep his mind off of sex. Settling for fisting his cock and  his fantasies fluttering behind his closed eyelids when his urges got too much to handle.

And now, here he is, helping Dr. Gaul invent a vibrator to get all the prudes of the Capitol off because their sexual frustrations are making them unbearable bitches to live with.

“When do you plan on conducting the tests?” Coriolanus asked Dr. Gaul, watching her as she boxed up the vibrating invention.

“I need to recruit some young ladies, of all different ages, from the districts for medical testing.” Dr. Gaul began while locking the invention up in a cabinet. “Of course, their families will be compensated with a small payment, since they'll be tied up here for some time.” The wild, frizzy haired woman sickly smiled while crossing the lab. Coriolanus followed behind her as she explained, “All of that will take time, so I conclude that testing will take place within the next 4-6 weeks at the earliest.”

Dr. Gaul exited the lab with Coriolanus right behind her. “I’d like to test it on a friend of mine, right away. That is, if I have permission to do so, Dr. Gaul.”

“And does this female friend of yours just happen to be General Byzantine's stepdaughter, Y/N?” The scientist asked knowingly, walking down the white hallway leading out of the heart of the lab.

“Yes, that would be her. She's been my best friend since we were children; she'd help me test out the vibrating tool without a second thought.”

“You should tread lightly, Mr. Snow. General Byzantine is in the midst of arranging a matrimonial match for Miss Y/N. Her helping test out our little invention is not going to sit well with him.” Dr. Gaul warned her prodigy, turning down a corner and walking down another stark white hallway.

Coriolanus felt like all the air from his lungs had dried up; leaving him breathless and suffocating. You were going to be handed off to some undeserving asshole. That wasn't right. It wasn't fair either.

You were supposed to be his.

It was common knowledge between your mother and his Grandma’am that when he was ready to settle down, he'd seek you out.

But your stepfather was almost done finalizing an arranged marriage for you with somebody. With somebody that wasn't him.

That was complete and utter bullshit.

Now more than ever, Coriolanus wanted to test that vibrator on your pussy. He wanted to make you cum multiple times; turn you into an overstimulated, crying, babbling mess begging for more. Begging for him to fill you up, fuck you with his cock and make you his.

And by God, he was going to make you his.

And he's going to use that invention, the industrial grade vibrating medical tool, to do it.

“Dr. Gaul, what the general doesn't know, won't hurt him. Besides, I’ll be testing a treatment for hysteria on my best friend. A treatment that, once married, her husband might send her to see a doctor for.”

Your husband was never ever sending you to get your pussy played with because Coriolanus was going to take care of your pussy himself. He wasn't going to let anyone touch you.

Only he's allowed to do that.

Just like he's the only one that's allowed to marry you.

“Very well, Mr. Snow, you have my permission to test our invention on your female best friend.” Dr. Gaul nodded as they reached an elevator. Hitting the button to open the steel box, she asked, “When do you want to conduct the testing?"

“As soon as possible.” Coriolanus honestly told his mentor. “I’d like to bring her here tonight, if she's free. If not, then the soonest day she has open in her schedule.” He said as the metal doors in front of them dinged open.

“And I imagine you want to be the only one conducting the experiment on your live test subject?” Dr. Gaul knowingly asked as they entered the elevator. The mad scientist might be diabolical, but she was very intelligent and knew that Coriolanus Snow was going to use that vibrator they invented to ruin you. And to do that, he'd want to be alone with you, to break you.

The scientist thought it was amusing. How her pupil wanted to ruin you with a vibrator because he couldn't have you. 

What she didn't know was that Coriolanus wanted to ruin you, but not because he couldn't have you. But to make you his. To make you pliable to him; want only him and abandoned all of your family’s plans for you just in order to receive endless pleasure from him.

“Yes.” Coriolanus firmly said as the doors to the elevator dinged shut.

“Very well, Mr. Snow.” Dr. Gaul nodded as the elevator began to ascend. “You may have your privacy conducting your experiment on your female best friend.”

You were home with your little brother while your parents were out at one of the finest restaurants in the city. Unknown to you, they were meeting with your potential future husband to discuss your dowry along with his expectations as your future husband.

Your brother was doing his homework and you were sitting on the living room couch, watching tv whenever the doorbell rang. You ignored it, assuming that either the Avox or the housekeeper, Marisol, would answer it.

You guessed correctly when you heard the heavy footfalls of shoes echoing against the marble floors. You didn't pay it any mind, assuming that one of your brother's friends had come over to study or something.

“Miss Y/N, your friend Mister Coriolanus is here to see you.” Marisol announced, standing in the archway of the room.

You tore your attention off of the TV and looked towards the living room entrance only to see your best friend strolling by your housekeeper.

“Thank you, Marisol.” You simply dismissed the middle-aged woman, causing her to nod and walk off.

You were shocked to see Coryo. It's been so long since you've seen him. “Coryo, what're you doing here?” You asked in awe, standing up and closing the distance between the two of you.

Before you could even approach him for a hug (that you so desperately craved from the platinum blonde man), Coriolanus told you. “I've came to ask you for some help testing an invention I've been working on with Dr. Gaul.”

“Oh…” You sadly sighed, letting your disappointment linger heavily in the air. And here you thought he came over to see you because he missed you. No, that wasn't the case. He didn't miss you at all; just needed you to help him on some project for work.

“Darling, what's wrong? I thought you'd be happy to help your best friend.”

“Are we still best friends, Coryo? I never see you anymore.”

“Of course we're still best friends, little dove.” The platinum blonde assured you, pulling you into a tight embrace. His hand trailed up and down your spine in a tantalizing touch that sent shivers throughout your nervous system. “I'll never abandon you, babygirl. I’ve just been preoccupied helping Dr. Gaul with a very important invention and studying for my University classes.” You could feel the thump, thump, thump, of his heartbeat as your head rested against his chest while your arms circled his wait. Hugging him close.

You missed hugging your best friend; you missed his scent and how he made you feel safe.

“I was hoping to see you at the University during lunch, but I haven't been able to. I guess you must be busy or maybe don't take your lunch break in the University’s dining hall.”

“I don't go to University, Coryo.” You told him, causing him to blink and stare at you in disbelief.

Coriolanus couldn't believe his ears. You weren't enrolled at the University. How could that be? You always wanted to study either science or medicine. It was your dream; you always talked so passionately about it before he was sent off to 12 to be a peacekeeper.

“”Why not? I thought you wanted to study science or medicine?”

“My stepfather and mother says it's a waste of time since I'm just going to be a socialite and one day a housewife.” Was the honest answer you gave Coryo.

The platinum blonde man wasn't too pleased by your answer. Not by a long shot. Who were your parents to control you; arrange for you to marry some rich asshole that would suppress you.

If you wanted to study at the University then so be it. You should be able to. 

And then a marvelous idea popped into his head. It was a great way to get you to agree to help him test out the vibrator too.

“If you help me by being my test subject tonight, I’ll get you a late midterm enrollment into the University in the science field. I'll even arrange for you to be my intern, considering that I'm Dr. Gaul's assistant.”

“Coryo, you'd do that for me?” You gasped, hand covering your mouth due to your shock.

“Yes, my sweet girl, I'll do that for you." Coriolanus confirmed with a nod. He flashed you that charming, manipulative smile of his, only to say, "I'll do that and more for you, if you just help me out with testing a new invention for me.”

You chewed your bottom lip, thinking over your options. Truthfully, the only option you had was to say yes. Saying yes would both get you into the University and repair the cracks in your friendship with Coryo.

“Okay, I'll help you.” You agreed, smiling at your best friend.

“Excellent.” Coryo smiled, so wide that too many pearly white teeth were showing. The smile seemed feral, perhaps even deranged in a way. Slinging an arm over your shoulders, he suggested, “Let's go, shall we?”

The lab he escorted you to was in the belly of the Citadel. Deep in the basement where nobody would hear you. He had explained, as the elevator made its descent, that the room he was taking you to was soundproof and didn't have any cameras installed in it. That it'd just be you and him; that nobody would ever see the experiment. And he'd just relay his data to his boss, Dr. Gaul.

You didn't know why he told you that. It sounded a bit weird to you, but you just nodded along and told him okay.

You felt a bit nervous as Coriolanus led you down the basement hallway and to a door. He used his electronic key card paired with a panel retina scan to open the door. He led you into the room, only to stop by the doorway to flick on the light switch. 

The too bright florescent lights flickered to life, revealing a lab table of sorts with straps and stirrups attached to it. As Coryo slammed the door shut, you noticed that on the counter next to the lab table was some sort of hospital gown and some type of large, thick wand. 

You looked over your shoulder at your best friend, only to ask him, “Why’re there straps and stirrups on the lab table? And a hospital gown on the counter, Coryo?”

“It's to test out the new invention, darling.” Coryo told you as if he was talking about the weather. “You'll need to get dressed in the gown and have your legs parted so I can properly conduct the experiment.” He explained while heading over to the counter.

“But the straps, Coryo? Are you going to tie my wrists down too?” You asked, a bit concerned, while trailing behind him.

“It's so you don't try to stop the experiment.” He dryly told you. “Now if we're done playing 20 questions, put this on and get on the lab table.” He said, handing you over the medical gown. Your fingers brushed as he added in, “Oh and take off your panties. Your pussy needs to be bare for this little experiment.”

“What?” You asked, sucking in a deep breath between your teeth. You had to let him see and use your bare pussy for the experiment? Like what? Why? “Coryo, I didn't agree to this…”

“Yes you did, Y/N.” Your best friend reminded you as his icy blue eyes cut right into your soul. Sighing, he rubbed your shoulders. “I promise, you'll like what I'm going to be doing. Just do as you're told, okay?”

“Okay.” You reluctantly gave in. “Can you turn around so I can change?” You asked, feeling a bit awkward about your best friend seeing you naked, as you slipped out of your kitten heels.

“I don't see why it makes a difference, darling. I'm going to see your pussy; might as well see your tits too.” He chuckled, leaning against the counter with his arms folded over his chest. His icy blue eyes roaming over your form as you began to unzip your dress.

“Coryo, you have a girlfriend. Think about how she'd feel if she heard you right now.” You told him, pulling off your dress and folding it up.

“I don't have a girlfriend, Y/N. So whoever told you that's mistaken.” Coryo told you as you placed your dress on the counter.

Your brows rose up in surprise as you unhooked your bra, “Really? But I thought you were seeing Livia Cardew.”

Livia Cardew.

Of course, you knew about him and her. What you didn't know was that it didn't even last a month. And he made sure to tell you that. He also assured you that he was single; had been single for months as you finished undressing. 

You were relieved that he wasn't avoiding you because he was spending all of his time with Livia. As you put on the examination gown, you asked Coryo, “If you're not busy with Livia, then why have you been ignoring me?”

Your words made bile rise up into the platinum blonde's throat. He felt sick that you thought he was ignoring you. He wasn't ignoring you. Wasn't he? He's just been busy constructing a life for you two. 

A soft look crossed his features as he sighed, “I didn't mean to ignore you, little dove. I've just been busy with my studying and working as Dr. Gaul's assistant.” 

“Yea…” You trailed off in a long, airy sigh. You honestly wanted to believe your best friend, but didn't know if you should.

“Let me tie this for you.” Coriolanus offered, gesturing to the hospital gown. You just nodded and turned around, causing him to tie up the little ribbons on the back of the medical gown.

Like with all medical gowns, your ass was showing. The platinum blonde smirked seeing your round ass, only to grab it with his large, calloused hands.

“Coryo?” You asked in a startled tone, looking over your shoulder at your best friend as he massages and rubs your ass.

Coryo just smirked before smacking you on the ass and saying, “Go get on the table.”

Turning around to face him, you said, “I’ll get on the table, but I want to know why you grabbed my ass.”

“Maybe I grabbed it because I'm an ass man; happen to like yours.” Your bestfriend told you with mirth twinkling in his baby blues, only to walk over to the counter to grab what he needed.

“I thought men liked boobs?” You asked while making your way over to the examination table.

“Oh, I like tits too.” Coriolanus stated, in a tone that was too cheerful for the atmosphere of the sterile lab, while pulling a pair of latex gloves out of a box that was on the counter. The loud sound of latex snapping as he pulled on the gloves echoed throughout the room. “Tits and ass. Good ole T&A does it for me.” Coryo joked, trying to cut the tension in the room, as you nervously sat down on the table.

As you adjusted yourself on the table, placing your legs in the stirrups, you heard your best friend ask you, “Do you want me to use the lube or to get you wet the old fashioned way?”, from his place across the room at the counter.

“What?” You asked, your eyes nearly popping out of your head. He couldn't mean?...

“Jesus, Y/N, please tell me you've played with your pussy before. Cause if not…this is going to be one hell of an experience for you.”

“Coriolanus! This isn't something ladies talk about to their gentleman friends.” You scolded him.

Coryo decided to forgo the bottle of lube, opting to just grab the large vibrating wand. Making his way over to you, he said, “That mindset’s why I had to help Dr. Gaul invent a damn vibrator. Because sex's so taboo to talk about in the Capitol.” Coming to a stop at the lab table, he placed the vibrator down on the sheet, right below your spread legs. 

“I’ve spent some time in the districts, as you know while serving as a Peacekeeper, so I don't share the same close minded views when it comes to such things.” Coriolanus explained while walking up the length of the table. Stopping where your wrists were, he explained, “I'm not trying to embarrass you, Y/N. I want you to enjoy this thing I've got to test out. And in order for you to do that, I need to know if you've touched yourself before. I need to know if you know what to expect, what to feel.”

“Fine…I’ll answer you.” You gave in while your best friend strapped down your left wrist.

The platinum blonde arched a brow, his hand resting resting on your right wrist, as he waited on baited breath for your answer.

An answer of, “Yes, I've played with myself before. There, you happy now?” 

“See, it wasn't so hard to tell me that. Now was it?” Your best friend remarked while strapping in your right wrist. He stroked your hair and pressed a kiss to your forehead, “I'll make sure you're nice and wet before we begin. Just relax and enjoy the experiment.”

Coriolanus, true to his word, made sure that you were wet. He used the rough pad of his thumb to circle and tease your clit. He didn't apply to much pressure, just enough to get you moist. 

Coriolanus wanted you to enjoy this, but he wanted to make your pussy weep and flood juices from the vibrations of the wand. He could always drive you crazy with his hand another time.

And there’s going to be endless moments between you two after tonight.

“I'm going to start the experiment now. Okay, darling?” Coryo told you, picking up the vibrator and turning it onto the lowest setting.

“Okay.” You nodded. 

“Just relax for me.” He instructed before pressing the buzzing wand to your clit.

The light vibration against your clit felt good. So good in fact, that you let out a tiny whimper.

“See, I knew you'd like this.” Your best friend said, only to turn the vibrator up another notch.

“Mmmm…Coryo…” Your breath hitched up in a tiny whine. The slight chance in speed against your clit sent wetness to pool from your pussy.

“You're doing good, my little dove.” Coriolanus praised while teasing your pussy with the vibrator.

Without warning, he turned it up to the third level. He pressed it hard against your clit, needing to see you cum. He craved the sight of your pussy gushing for him. And he'd keep amping up the speed of the vibrator to do it.

And the large industrial vibrator had 10 speed settings. 

So…

You were in for a long night.

“Oh my God! Coryo!” You moaned, the vibrations of the third setting on your clit driving you closer to cumming. 

“Feels good “ Coryo stated with a smug grin on his face.

“Yes.” You nodded. Your legs, spread wide in the stirrups, began to tense up as you mewled, “Feels so good, Coryo. So, so good.” Your pussy began to spasm as you cried out, “I-I m gonna cum, Coryo.”

“Be a good girl and cum for me.” Your best friend told you, holding the vibrator firmly against your twitching clit. “Cum right now. Do it, cum like the little slut you are.”

You didn't know if it was the vibrations against your clit or the dirty, demanding words Coriolanus told you, but all of a suddenly you were cumming with a moan. 

Coriolanus’ icy blue eyes shined in excitement as he watched your juices flow out of your pussy as you came. Oh, he thought you looked so beautiful. He could stare at your soaked, leaky cunt for hours. 

You thought that your best friend would turn the vibrator off, unstrap you from the table, and end the experiment with the vibrating wand, but he didn't. In fact, Coriolanus turned it up another notch. 

“Coryo, I already came. You gotta stop.” You told him, trying not to let out a high pitched wine, as your clit began to throb. 

“Sorry, baby, but we're not stopping until all 10 speeds are tested.” The platinum told you, a mischievous smirk on his lips. Adjusting the pressure he was using to hold the vibrator against your clit, he simply said, “We're only on the 4th speed.”

“Oh no…”  You trailed off in a broken moan.

“Oh yes!” He mocked, watching your pussy as it began to pool once more. “Perhaps I should turn it up?” Coryo asked while turning up the speed.

“Coryo!” You screamed as your second orgasm hit you, causing your pussy to spasm and squirt juices onto the lab table you’re on.

“Oh, so you're a squirter?” Coryo asked, a wide smile on his face, as his eyes locked onto yours from his place between your pussy.

If you weren't so blissed out right now you'd be embarrassed. 

“I'm going to turn the speed up again, see if we can get you squirting some more.”

“Oh, God, Coryo. Please, please, stop. No more, I'm too sensitive.” You begged, feeling like you couldn't handle any more.

Coriolanus did something you weren't expecting. He stretched out his arm and took your hand in his, holding it. “I know, you're sensitive, baby girl, but you can do this. I know you can go all the 10 speeds for me.”

“Coryo.” You whimpered, lower back arching in an attempt to get away from the vibrations assaulting your puffy, swollen clit.

“Y/N, baby, calm down. You can do this; I wouldn't put you thru this if you couldn't.” Coriolanus told you while cranking the speed up once more.

Coriolanus loves seeing you overstimulated and thrashing about on the table for him as he talking you thru everything. But, his pants were starting to tighten. He needed to fuck you and fast, so that's why he decided to switch the vibrator to level 6 so quickly instead of teasing you.

“Coryo, please, please.” You begged, but for what you didn't even know.

“What do you need, Y/N? You need to cum again?”

“Yea.” You desperately nodded as tears began to brim your eyes. “I'm so sensitive but I need to cum so bad.”

“You're such a little slut for me.” Your best friend chuckled, only to press the vibrator harder against your clit and turn it up to level 7. He adjusted the position slightly, causing you to cum with a loud scream. Once again your pussy squirted your juices everywhere. This time your thighs were wet, the table underneath you was wet, and even Coryo's shirt was soaked.

Coriolanus is positive that if he didn't have you strapped down then you would've flown right up off the lab table.

“I know you're sensitive, but I know you have one more in you. Can you give me one more, baby girl? Hmm?” Coriolanus cooed, stroking your hand with his long fingers as he turned the vibrator up to the next level.

“I dunno, Coryo.” You sighed, feeling listless, as you felt even faster vibrations against your too sensitive and swollen pearl. Your pussy’s quivering and your asshole’s clenching from the overstimulation you're feeling. Tears rolled down your cheeks as you cried, “I-I’m aching so bad, Coryo. I need something more, but I'm so sensitive.”

Coryo knew just what you needed. Your body was craving his cock. And, honestly, his cock was painfully rock hard from watching you that he's going to be stuffing you full once he's made you come again from the vibrator.

“You need my cock, Y/N.” Coriolanus told you, matter of factly. “Don't worry, once we're done, I'll flip you over and fuck you.” 

“I'm a virgin, Coryo. I'm supposed to be saving myself for my future husband.” You informed him. You couldn't just sleep with him, you had to stay pure. What would your future husband think if you were already used up on your wedding night. If there wasn't any blood on your thighs to signal that he was the only one to claim your purity as his prize.

“You've done that, darling. You've stayed pure for me, but I can't wait any longer to have you.”

Your toes began to curl and your fingers were clenching into fists as you felt a hot, unbearable tingling began to build up inside of you, despite how overstimulated and sore your clit was. “You want to marry me?” You asked, more like moaned, as Coriolanus turned the vibrator up to the 9th level.

Your nails dug into his left hand as your pain began to turn into pleasure once more. Coriolanus thought you were so beautiful like this. Spread out before him, helpless and to his mercy. All fucked out, begging for things you didn't even know you wanted or needed- until now. 

Oh, and the unorthodox marriage proposal was the icing on the cake for the platinum blonde man. Made this night all the more special. “Of course I want to marry you, Y/N. I'd be a fool not too.”

Tears blurred your vision, sticking to your lashes, as you wailed, “Coryo, please, this is too much.” 

“You're doing such a good job for me, darling.” Coriolanus praised you, causing warmth to pool in your lower belly. “Just one more speed and it'll all be over, baby girl. Just one more for me, yea?” Coriolanus assured you as his lust blown eyes raked over your writhing form that was strapped down.

“Okay. Just one more.” You agreed, causing him to turn the vibrator onto the last setting.

The 10th speed. 

The vibrations sent a harsh jolt straight to your core. You became an overstimulated, babbling mess. Your head thrashed, your pussy spasmed, your asshole clenched, your legs shook, and your eyes were literally blinded with tears. The feeling was oh so much. It was both euphoria and hell at the same time. The pain ebbed into pleasure, a white hot pleasure that seemed impossible to reach.

And before you knew it, you were cumming hard with Coryo's name on your lips like a prayer.

Coryo quickly turned off the vibrator and tossed it to the side. The large wand crashed into something, but he didn't care. He just needed to get you unstrapped so he could fuck your 5th orgasm into you.

Fuck, he was so hard and needed your cunt so bad. 

Quickly, Coriolanus pulled your legs out of the stirrups and lowered tje metal things down to the sides of the table. Then he rushed up to the top of the table. To free your arms.

You were panting and fluttering your eyelashes, attempting to see thru all of your tears, as your best friend quickly unbuckled your wrist straps. “You did such a good job for me, baby.” Coriolanus praised you. Kissing you on the forehead, as your newly freed arms limply lay by your side, he asked, “Can you sit up for me or are you too fucked out?”

“I dunno, Coryo.” You honestly told him. Your body was numb with pleasure, so you had no idea if you could sit or not.

“Shit, did I break you?” He asked, pride laced in his baritone, as he helped you to sit up.

“I’m fine, just feel a bit numb’s all.” You told him, pressing your face against his chest as he held you. 

“Yea, you're too fucked out.” Coriolanus proudly chuckled.

Lifting your head up to look at him, you innocently asked, “Why's your shirt all wet for, Coryo?”

“That's all you, little dove.” He told you while petting your hair. “You came so hard; soaked everything near that pretty little pussy of yours.”

“Oh…” You buried your face in his chest. You were embarrassed; afraid of his reaction to you cumming so messily. “That's never happened before when I- you know- while alone in bed.” You admitted, hoping that he wouldn't think you were weird or something for making such a mess.

Coriolanus found your innocence to be cute. You were embarrassed about the spectacular show you put on for him.

And only him.

Because you've never made yourself squirt before.

Pride swelled in his chest at the mere fact that he had you squirting over and over again.

Him.

“Y/N, my dove, what you did was natural. It was very special too.”

“It was?” You asked, lifting your head to look up at him.

“Yea.” Coryo nodded. “Not everyone can squirt.” He explained with a smile. Pressing his forehead against yours and bringing your hand to cup the large bulge in his too tight pants, he said, “I need to fuck you so bad. Make you mine, Y/N.”

You palmed his bulge, causing him to let out a strangled moan. “Did you mean it when you said that I don't have to wait anymore? That you’ll marry me without my virginity?”

“Y/N, my darling rose, of course I'm going to marry you.” Coriolanus told you with a firm certainly in his voice as he cupped your face in his large, calloused hands. “I’m the one taking your virginity and I'm the one that's marrying you, so the order of the two doesn't really matter.” He told you in a tone that was too sweet, perhaps even on the verge of manipulative. 

Coriolanus kissed you, his lips pressing against yours in a passionate, bruising force. You were taken back by the kiss, but quickly responded to it by melding your lips with his. It felt like he was sucking all of the air out of your lungs as he kissed you.

Breaking the kiss, his lips ghosted yours as he swore, “I'll bring you home with me tonight after we fuck and tomorrow I'll go talk to the general; tell him about our engagement.”

“I'm going to need a ring.” You reminded him, a small smile on your lips.

“I'll tell Grandma’am I'm ready to give you her heirloom ring in the morning. She'll know what that means.” Coriolanus assured you while picking you up and bending you over the lab table. Unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants, he warned, “This is going to be quick.” You heard his pants pool around his ankles as he told you. “You’ll enjoy it, but I'm too hard and you're too stimulated for me to drag this out too long.” 

Coryo quickly pulled down his boxers, causing his cock to slap against his stomach. “Hold onto the edge of the table, Y/N.” He instructed, grasping his dick and giving it a few pumps.

 Looking over your shoulder, as he lined his angry red tip at your soaking wet entrance, you asked, “Is this going to hurt, Coryo? I heard it hurts the first time.”

“With how your hole’s sloppy and dripping, my cock’ll easily slip in. The stretch might burn, but it won't hurt.” He explained before pushing into you.

You bit your lower lip as you felt his large cock stretch out your tight walls. It stung a bit, like he said it would, but it wasn't painful. Not like some of the rumors you heard.

“Such a good girl for me, baby.” Coriolanus praised you. Continuing to push himself into your tight, wet heat, he pressed a kiss to your spine (a part that was exposed by the gap in your medical gown) and cooed, “You're taking me so well.” His breath was hot against your skin as he assured you, “Just a little bit more and I'll be balls deep, Y/N.”

Coryo and you both let out little moans whenever he bottomed out. He felt so good inside of you. You felt so full, and it fanned the flames of your desire for him. And Coriolanus felt that being sheathed in your tight, wet warmth was heaven. The feeling of your cunt gripping his cock was better than anything he could've ever imagined. 

When he pulled his hips back, causing his cock to deliciously drag against your walls, and pushed them forward, driving his cock deep inside of you; hitting your special spot deep within you, you let out a delighted scream. 

“That's it, let me hear you scream for me, my good little slut.” Coryo told you, his hips roughly snapping against yours as he chased down both your highs.

He knew with how sensitive you were that it wouldn't take much to get you cumming. He also knew that if he pounded into you mercilessly then he'd be quickly cumming too.

“Feels so good Coryo.” You whined, clawing at the edge of the table as you felt the head of his cock press up against the spongy spot inside of you. The spot that had your cunt clenching around him.

“Fuck, your cunt's so tight. So perfect, baby.” Coryo began to babble, the feeling of your tight virgin pussy sending him into overdrive. He swears, it feels as if your cunt was made for his cock. It fit him like a glove. A perfect fit. Squeezes him just right, takes him without any problems.

Coriolanus was pussydrunk on your perfect pussy. A pussy that he was claiming as his.

And only he's allowed to pound your pussy. Paint its walls white with his cum.

You let out a loud shriek when you felt his cum heavy balls slap against your oversensitive clit. That only causes him to dig his long fingers harder into your hips and piston even harder into you. 

The lewd sound of your cunt loudly squelching paired with skin slapping skin and your loud moans filled the lab. The lab table beneath you was shaking from how hard Coriolanus was fucking you from behind. But you were so out of it with pleasure that you were worried around the table flipping over.

And even if it did, that wouldn't stop the platinum blonde from fucking into you like his life depended on it. No, he'd just keep pounding your pussy.

“You feel close.” Coriolanus gritted out as his fast paced movements got sloppier. “I'm close too, baby.”

“I’m gonna cum, Coryo. I-I’m gonna cum.” You announced in a mewl, your hips pushing back against his in a desperate attempt to chase your release.

“Me too. Me too.” Coryo told you while bending his body over yours, pressing his chest flush against your back, and grabbing your hands with his while rutting into you as quickly as he could. "Fuck, I'm gonna fill you up with my cum. Fuck a baby in you; show everyone yours mine."

All you could do was let out a string of babbled broken cries as Coriolanus had you cumming for the 5th time. And as your cunt tightly clenched him, he made a couple more sloppy thrusts before shooting his hot, thick ropes of cum into your womb.

Coriolanus laid on top of you, holding you as his cock was still buried inside of your pussy. He let go of your hand, only to grab your jaw and bring your head up towards his. Using his thumb, he wrenched your jaw open, only to hover his lips above your parted ones and spit into your mouth. The feel of it was disgusting, unnatural even, but without even thinking twice you swallowed his spit.

Coriolanus’ baby blues sparkle with possessiveness as he watches you swallow down his spit as if it was fine wine. Caressing your jaw, he told you, “You're not just my best friend, Y/N. You're my girl.”

His girl. That made your insides melt. You’ve always wanted to be his girl. You've always loved him.

And now you're his girl.

FINALLY

His girl.

“I'll help you get dressed in a minute, then we'll go home.” He told you before leaning in to give you a kiss.

“Okay.” You whispered against his lush lips. 

Oh, how you couldn't wait for him to take you home with him. Where you belong.

Tags: @kuroosbby001 @purriteen @poppyflower-22 @meetmeatyourworst @whipwhoops @bxtchopolis @readingthingsonhere @savagenctzen @ryswritingrecord @erikasurfer @tulips2715 @universal-s1ut @thesmutconnoisseur @squidscottjeans @sudek4l @wearemadeofstardust0 @mashiromochi @gracieroxzy @belcalis9503 @shari-berri @aoi-targaryen @whiteoakoak @spear-bearing-bi-witch @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons @qoopeeya @mfnqueen1 @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 @v-love @swiftieblyth

[secular-jew]

From a real Lebanese (Phoenician).

‎I realize that when I speak my mind as a free human being, there will be responses. I can handle that.

‎However, people who are of the opposite conviction (mostly from the medieval Middle East) always respond with the same modus operandi... Every single time someone disagrees with them, they answer by calling us names like Donkey, Pig, or Dog (حمار، خنزير، كلب hmar, khanzeer, or kaleb) which they intend as big insults. They also call us either 'Zionists' or 'traitors' or 'agents'.

‎They simply have no logical answer, and they are so pathetically childish.

‎My feelings are not hurt. Far from it. But seeing so many here in the US chanting "I am Hamas" causes me to see the need to enlighten those who don't know the detailed history of the past 50 years.

‎Why do we oppose terrorist and don’t agree with their terrorism and savagery?

‎Here is the long history recap, told from my personal perspective.

‎I grew up in Lebanon with friends from all faiths: Druze, Muslim, and various Christians. We laughed and played and got along. Lebanon was generally peaceful and safe.

‎We welcomed the Palestinians as refugees to Lebanon.

‎The border between Lebanon and Israel was generally quiet compared with other Arab nations. Many Lebanese did not want war. Instead, we desired to live in peace and tranquility. We wanted prosperity, trade, tourism, and banking. The Lebanese used to be known as having joie de vie and some of the most fun people to be around.

‎Lebanon was referred to as “the Switzerland of the Middle East” for its beauty and its desire to remain peaceful and neutral and a bridge between the east and west.

‎Lebanon was also called “the Riviera of the Middle East”, "California on the Eastern Mediterranean", and “Green Lebanon” because trees covered the hills and mountains and there was no desert.

‎Beirut was known as "the Paris of the Middle East". Lebanon's Golden Age was a period characterized by its natural beauty, including snow-capped mountains, warm beaches, and a pristine coastline. Beirut was a glamorous city with luxury hotels, nightclubs, and a vibrant cultural and intellectual life. It was a popular destination for movie stars.

‎Tourists flocked to Lebanon. They went snow skiing in the morning then drove 2 hours to Beirut to water ski in the Mediterranean the afternoon of the same day. It was on everyone’s bucket list.

‎Tourists were safe and they had so much fun that they did not want to leave. Many came back year after year.

‎Over time, the Palestinians created a state-within-a-state and there were areas where they prevented even the Lebanese army from entering. Which country would accept that? Knowing the trouble it will eventually cause, the Lebanese started to become bitter about the situation.

‎Egyptian president Gamal Abdel Nasser wanted to make Lebanon part of the United Arab Republic, causing a civil war in 1958.

‎I was in Middle School when the six-day war erupted in June of 1967. School was nearing summer break. We went out for our lunch break and heard that war has started. I saw Israeli fighter jets dog fighting with Syrian jets overhead. the Syrian jets lost.

‎Because Lebanon is very small, we could catch AM radio stations from the surrounding countries. All the Arab stations repeated the same lie: "Our forces have destroyed the enemy's air force, and we have reached the outskirts of Jerusalem." All lies and propaganda from Radio Egypt, Radio Damascus, and Radio Amman. Same garbage from each station. Propaganda in the news continues to this day. If a radio station does not toe the line, the regime will shut it down.

‎To hear the truth, we turned to Radio Israel, Voice of America, and the BBC.

‎Three years later, the PLO started fighting against the King of Jordan. Their headquarters were in Amman, Jordan and even though they were refugees in Jordan, they tried to overthrow King Hussein. The king's forces surrounded them and almost killed every single fighter. The world called for a cease fire and forced King Hussein to relent. That was a major mistake. The same mistake is being repeated these days when the world asks Israel to stop firing. When the world does that, the problem never ends. It only becomes a bigger problem. The world had repeatedly made that mistake in the Middle East.

‎The PLO relocated to Beirut. They started firing at Israel from Lebanese territory, causing Israel to retaliate against Lebanese territory. Who would blame them for retaliating?

‎Again, we did not want war. We wanted peace.

‎Knowing that civil unrest was on the horizon, I went to America to study medicine hoping that by the time I completed my studies, the situation would have calmed down. Little did I know what the future held.

‎In 1975, the PLO caused the devastating civil war that engulfed Lebanon for 15 years. My parents were displaced and lost everything. So did many families. The toll was horrendous.

‎The town where I was born was located in the mountains outside Beirut, only about 30 minutes by car. My family could not go there because of the civil war and lost access to our house for over 10 years. Because it was a house owned by Christians, it was hit on more than one occasion while other homes nearby were OK. The roof had a hole in it from artillery shells. It was repaired, yet more shells hit it, sending the message not to return to town.

‎Our orchards used to have apple trees, peach trees, cherry trees, olive trees, sumac, artichoke, pine trees, mulberry trees, fig trees, and other trees. Not being tended to nor watered, they all died. Even the stones used for terracing our orchard were looted. Thus, our neatly terraced land became a worthless desolate wasteland.

‎My brother was kidnapped, other friends died. We had an apartment in Christian East Beirut. The area was besieged for a while and there were times when there was no bread. Artillery fired from Muslim west Beirut was so intense at times that even crossing the narrow street to the bomb shelter was incredibly dangerous. My mother developed heart disease and Parkinson's from the stress and fear.

‎My family were on the run from Beirut to the Metn district, then to the Bekaa, then to Cyprus, then back to various areas in Lebanon. The war had made them nomads.

‎There were so many other stories that my family endured, but I will omit them for brevity's sake.

‎The Syrian army entered Lebanon as ‘peacekeepers’ and destroyed Lebanon. For many years, the Syrian army occupied our house in the mountains and used it as their headquarters in the town. To remain warm and acting like uncivilized primitives, they lit fires inside the house on our ornate ceramic-tiled floor in the living room.

‎In the 1980's, Hezbollah came to existence and wanted Lebanon to be part of the Iranian Islamic caliphate.

‎Syria occupied Lebanon ruthlessly. Many Lebanese were taken to Syrian jails and tortured. Many never returned.

‎The war "ended", and all factions were disarmed except Hezbollah. Syria and the Shiites were in control and dictated that. Hezbollah kept getting stronger due to intense backing from Iran. For years, Lebanon remained an occupied country. Syria plundered Lebanon and became rich.

‎Syria and Iran, using Hezbollah and their own agents, began assassinating any leader who opposed them. They killed Christians and Sunnis alike. In 2005, Bashar Al Assad 'summoned' Prime Minister Rafik Hariri (a Sunni Muslim) to Damascus and 'ordered' him to do something, threatening that if he did not toe the line, Assad would 'break his head'. Hariri did not toe the line and was assassinated in February 2005. Hezbollah were the ones who committed the act.

‎The cowardly Iranian regime had established Hezbollah as a proxy to fight Israel. In essence, cowardly Iran used Lebanon to fight Israel, causing the destruction of Lebanon while Iranian territory remained safe.

‎So back to my first thought. The opposition cannot handle the truth. The only thing they can do is call us names.

‎I have thick skin. We have gone through a lot of trials and tribulations and adversity wreaked upon us by these savage terroristic animals.

‎Thank you, Israel, for Nasrallah's demise. It may create an opportunity for peace, but only if Lebanese leaders have the courage to seize the moment.

‎I will repeat what the terrorists and their supporters don’t want to hear: The Iranian Regime, The Syrian Regime, all proxies of Iran, Hezbollah, Hamas, Houthis, ISIS, Al Qaeda, The PLO, Islamic Jihad, PJ, PFLP, Syrian Baathist Party, all the Communist parties, all of these and more have been CANCERS in the World. They oppress their own people and us alike. They are savage animals who are stuck in the seventh century with the mentality of brutal conquests and war.

‎Call me what you like. I was born a Phoenician, not an Arab. The terrorists took away my county, but God gave me America. I am grateful and I am blessed.

‎I'm going to have an awesome day, and the terrorists are going to get their rears kicked. Have a good night.

[boneblushed]

Glitch

synopsis Rafe has a bad fall on the ski slopes. A temporary amnesiac, he falls in love with you all over again.

a/n oh Euro Trip Rafe I have missed you so bad 🥹

The velcro of your left glove snags, the worn edge catching on the handle of your ski pole. You sigh. The gauntlet cuff on the right side isn’t looking much better, all scruffy and threadbare so the underlying skin’s exposed.

“Hold on,” you call out, skidding to a reluctant stop.

It’s high time you replaced them with a newer pair, especially considering you’ve been using the same gear your parents bought you post middle-school growth spurt. But you don’t come to Aspen nearly enough to justify doing so at the moment; not that money’s a particular issue, it’s more so the inconvenience an unnecessary shopping trip will bring you.

“Dude. Again?”

You abandon the broken strap to send Topper a helpless frown. He’s a little way ahead, partially obscured by the crowd, but the exasperation on his face is made evident by his tone.

He draws nearer and glances down at the shaggy velcro, shaking his head disapprovingly. “We’ve gotta buy you a new pair.”

Above him, the sky is a gauzy blue, juxtaposing the sugary white hue of fresh snow.

“Not worth it Top,” you argue. The strap hitches again, an objection. “They’ll barely get used.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he answers, turning again. “Come on. I’m going to buy you a new pair.”

He’ll buy you a new one, your heart sings. And then it stops. You know better than to read into this gesture — he isn’t being chivalrous on purpose; when is he ever? This is the fourth time you’ve had to stop to untangle or readjust, and you’re pretty sure he’s just getting sick of you holding him up. Logic prevails, but your traitorous cheeks warm anyway, demure about the offer.

“It’s fine,” you insist. The velcro barely sticks when you refasten it. Fine enough. “Let’s keep going.”

You continue to push through the horde ahead of you, making your slow way toward the chairlifts. As you near, the ant-like skiers and snowboarders on the mountain become clearer, and you pull down your goggles, blinded by the sun’s glare.

That’s when the accident happens.

All of a sudden, but crashing in dusky orange slow-motion. Some guy hits a rocky bit of the slopes, losing control of his snowboard and nosediving into the snow. It’s a gnarly looking collision, made worse by his concerning lack of helmet, and you share a worried look with Topper before making your way toward him.

“Dude, fucking move—hey, sorry, best friend coming through—”

You startle, halting abruptly. You’d recognise that voice anywhere.

“—sorry, ‘scuse me gorgeous, I’m just gonna squeeze past you real quick—”

“Noah!”

In the split second that follows, you endure several emotions at once. The first: concern heightened ten-fold. Because if Noah’s referring to himself as the best friend, the some guy in question is actually Rafe Cameron.

The same Rafe Cameron that you love to hate, almost as much as your poor heart avows it.

The second: a concerning ache. Right at the centre of your chest, within your ribcage, as if the tired ligaments that hold it together are as weak as your velcro straps. The feeling swells, and you feel your heart squeeze through the cracks.

And then there’s apprehension, some excitement, a sudden bashfulness that makes your cheeks burn.

All round pathetic. You force a smile that’s more a grimace, hoping that Noah doesn’t notice your disquiet.

He pauses en-route, a surprised expression on his face. “Y/N!” He exclaims, breathless. The surprise melts into a mixture of delight and amusement. “Tell me you witnessed him bailing just then.”

You sigh. “Unfortunately.”

“Good,” he replies soberly, linking his arms in yours and tugging you forward. Your ski poles cross in protest, your centre of balance askew. “You’re coming with me.”

“What?” You ask, evidently bewildered. “Noah…”

You twist around and find Topper in the crowd, who shrugs, equally perplexed. Help me, you mouth, though you’re moving ahead too fast for the poor boy to discern it.

“…uh,” you try again, turning back to the face him, “I don’t know if this is —”

“Y/N,” he interrupts matter-of-factly, zig-zagging through the crowd with ease. “If there’s one person that can talk some sense into him, it’s you. I mean, shit, did you see how fast he was going? He’s going to board himself into a fucking coma if he keeps doing stupid shit like that.”

This brings a pause. It’s sort of endearing, really, how fiercely he cares about Rafe.

Your gaze softens a smidge. “You’re a good friend, Noah,” you say. “He’s pretty lucky to have you.”

“Us,” Noah corrects.

Your pulse jolts. “He doesn’t have me,” you reply, frowning a little.

“Everyone else may believe that Y/N, but I don’t.”

And again, a terrifying emotion bounding forth in your chest. “I —”

You’re saved the trouble of sputtering through an excuse by Rafe’s languid groan, a thready-sounding, “Shit.”

The crowd parts at Noah’s command, and the pair of you squeeze through, now face to face with Rafe.

He’s splayed out on the snow with his limbs in disarray, only one of his boots still strapped onto his board. His cheeks are a chilly rouge, dirty-blonde hair sticking out at odd angles. You resist the sudden urge to reach forward and comb your fingers through it.

“Idiot,” Noah mutters, crouching down beside him. “Absolute fucking idiot.”

He unfastens the aforementioned boot and tosses his board to the side, the nose-end looking notably abraded.

“Huh?” Rafe mumbles, a little dazed. He gropes at his purple-hued goggles blindly, pulling them off to squint up at Noah. It takes a worrying number of seconds for recognition to dawn on his features, and when it does, finally, Noah turns around and beckons you forward.

You hesitate, your gaze flitting down to Rafe’s face. “Someone should call Ward.”

“No!” Rafe yells suddenly, attempting to push himself up before collapsing backward languidly. He clutches his left side and groans, his eyebrows pinching in pain.

His discomfort makes you wince. You spring into action without meaning to, that concerning ache in your chest pulling you forth until you’re crouching down beside him like Noah.

“No Ward,” you murmur, placing your hand on his shoulder. “Noted.”

Up close, you can see a cut on his bottom lip, the rough stubble on his jaw all dewy from the melted snow. Your brow furrows. As he tears his gaze away from Noah to face you instead, you brush back his dirty-blonde fringe, searching for any more injuries. He has a graze on his upper forehead and you thumb over it gently, the furrow in your brow deepening with concern.

You glance up at Noah and nod. “Absolute fucking idiot.”

Rafe tries to do the same, but a sharp ache sears through his head when he attempts to turn it again.

“Stop moving it,” you instruct sternly, exerting more pressure on his forehead to hold it in place. “Noah isn’t going anywhere.”

“Have to,” he groans, his voice all gravelly and rough, “make sure he’s still here.”

He’s almost certain that Noah won’t be, that he’ll turn to him and find that the two of you are the only people sitting on the slopes. He imagines it like that scene at the end of Deathly Hallows, everything in blinding white and playing inside of his head.

You know, because he’s almost definitely dreaming if you’re crouching down beside him right now. With a soft hand on his shoulder, another pressed over his forehead. Two points of contact, he marvels, dazed. He squints up at you again, his reverent gaze falling over you in paces, and it feels as though a fog is descending on his surroundings. Everything blurs. He blinks abruptly.

“Dude,” Noah chastises, leaning over Rafe’s torso so that he’s within his line of sight, “where the fuck would I go?”

Rafe’s eyes widen, and he looks between you and Noah, evidently bewildered. “Bro,” he groans after a pause, his head falling back defeatedly. “I’m fucked.”

Your heart lurches worriedly, and you frown, looking over his figure for more injuries. “R’you in any pain?”

“Not physical,” he mumbles, lifting his head tentatively to squint at you. He drops it again and groans, overwhelmed by your closeness. “You’re really fucking beautiful, by the way. It’s messing with my head.”

You roll your eyes, feeling a tell-tale warm creeping up your neck. “Alright, you guys can go,” you say, turning to address the crowd. “He’s totally fine.”

Noah grins down at him, looking equally parts proud and exasperated. “There he is.”

Rafe isn’t sure what that means. All he knows is that he doesn’t feel fine, his head’s all jumbled and there’s a dreadful ache in every one of his limbs. The sound of blood pounding through his ears is unrelenting, and the chill in the air is downright abrasive. Not to mention, there’s this angel reincarnate that’s leaning over him at present, a concerned expression on her face that’s somehow making her look prettier.

Two points of contact, Rafe thinks again, agonised. Your softened features come to him in slow motion, the light reflected in your wide eyes, the shine of gloss on your frowning lips. You look extremely familiar, but he’s having difficulty recalling your name. There’s this overwhelming pull in chest that tells him you’re a big deal to him—his girlfriend, he hopes, aghast and probably deluded. That’s the concussion talking.

Besides, he isn’t even entirely sure that you’re actually real, all things considered.

“We should probably get him checked out, huh?” You ask Noah.

Noah knits his brow thoughtfully, peering down at Rafe. “You good, Cameron?”

“I feel fucking hungover,” Rafe mutters, pushing himself into a sitting position. Your hand falters as he hangs his head forward, and he reaches up, pressing it back into his skin. The rough pressure makes your breath hitch, less languid and more sure than he’s been since he bailed.

“You’re concussed,” you correct meekly, frowning down at him.

Rafe tries to shake his head, wincing as another bolt of pain shoots through it in dissent. “No,” he says, quick to fix his features. He grins dazedly. “I’m Rafe Cameron. And you’re… well, I hope you’re my girlfriend or something, because otherwise this heart attack in my chest’d be pretty concerning.”

You breathe out a scoff, mildly exasperated. A little relieved. If he’s well enough to remember to be an incessant flirt, he’s well enough for the concussion to not have caused any permanent damage.

“Alright, nevermind, no medical attention necessary,” you mutter, sending him a glare. It’s hard to hide the fact that your palms are clammy when you pull them away.

Noah loops his bicep under Rafe’s and pulls him to his feet, steadying him in place. The throbbing in his forehead intensifies, and he groans, staggering forward and doubling over.

“I don’t know, Y/N,” Noah replies then, frowning. “Maybe I’ll give my mom a call, just to be safe.”

“Your mom?”

“Dr White,” Rafe supplies, forcing himself to straighten. He tries to control his breathing, ignore the way his surroundings seem to be spinning.

Everything except you. His focus acquiesces. He must look pale or something because your gaze is apprehensive, this pretty furrow in your brow that he wants to smooth his thumb over. God, he must look pathetic right now, weak and mildly concussed, the aforementioned bail notwithstanding.

So he lies, adding, “Don’t worry about it White, I’m good,” mostly for your benefit—so you don’t think he’s some fucking chump who can’t handle a bit of a tumble.

He wants to impress you, bad. He plasters on another grin, going for roguish and landing on dense. “Would be better if you let me take you out later.”

“No way you’re asking me out right now,” you reproach, sending him a glare. “You almost just died five minutes ago, and that’s the first thing on your priority list?”

“You are, yeah,” he agrees, still grinning. He tries to walk toward you, staggering a little. “Seriously though, this has gotta be fate — bailing real fucking hard and finding a beautiful stranger along the way.”

You blink. “Beautiful stranger?”

“Heavy on the beautiful,” Rafe agrees, lumbering forward clumsily.

“Stranger?” You repeat, and then you falter, glancing down at his feet. “Rafael —”

He loses balance far too quickly for you to intervene, and he falls against you heavily, causing you to topple into the snow. Biting cold on your back, delightful warmth on your chest. His instincts must be somewhat intact, because he manages to hold his weight up despite being right on top of you.

Like, right on top of you. A terrifying emotion sears through your chest. The smatter of freckles on his nose are almost faded, his cheeks a brilliant rouge, snow-burned lips parted slightly. His overgrown locks brush against your forehead, just.

“Sorry,” he breathes out, and then he pauses, his gaze flitting to your lips. In the beat that passes, he agonises over the soft planes of your face, how pretty your eyes are up close. His heart’s just about pounding through his skin. How kissable your lips look, your cheeks, your neck, how right your figure feels pressed into his. His palms feel clammy; that hasn’t happened in a long while. He thinks, oh shit. And then, I’m absolutely fucking fucked.

You swallow, watching his pupils dilate. “Cameron. I need you to focus for a second.”

“Listen,” he murmurs, ignoring you, “D’you believe in love at first sight?”

“Rafael —”

“Because I know we’ve only just met,” he continues, drawing closer still, his heady gaze deepening, “and that — shit, I don’t even know your name, but I’m pretty sure that if I don’t kiss you right now I’m going to go fucking insane. That’s crazy, huh? I think you make me crazy. Have I mentioned that you’re really fucking beautiful yet? It’s messing with my head. Wait — I think I might’ve said that already —”

“Rafe Cameron,” you interrupt again, your eyes widening slightly. “If this is some stupid prank —”

“Prank?” He echoes, frowning slightly. He leans forward a little, brushing his nose against yours. Your pulse jolts. “You’re a prank.” He groans then, dropping his head to your shoulder. Your closeness may quell the pounding a smidge, but not completely. “You’re not real are you? I’m dreaming all of this?”

Your lock eyes with Noah over his head, sending him a worried look.

“Rafael,” you try again, pushing him off you and sitting up carefully. “This isn’t funny. I’m so beyond serious.”

Rafe, still splayed out on the snow, angles toward you with a furrow in his brow. “I’m confused.”

“Noah,” you say then, your voice louder, a little panicked. “I think you will need to call your mom after all.”

Noah frowns, crouching down beside the pair of you. “What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong,” Rafe answers, groaning in pain as he sits up. “Is that I’ve made a fool out of myself in front of this gorgeous stranger.”

“Ask her,” you continue, your heart feeling a little odd, “how long post-concussion memory loss takes to wear off.”

Noah eyes widen, searching Rafe’s face for any signs of mirth. “No way,” he says. “He’s gotta be fucking with us.”

“There’s an us?” Rafe echoes, raising his eyebrows at Noah. “Dude. Did you know your girlfriend’s a fucking smokeshow?”

“If this is some new pick up line you’re trying,” he replies, eyeing him warily. “It sucks ass Cameron.”

“Oooh, territorial,” Rafe answers, grinning dopily. He props himself up further, leaning closer to you and lowering his voice to a stage whisper. “You’re totally out of his league, by the way. Pretty sure you’re like, out of the Earth’s league.” He frowns. “That doesn’t make sense,” then groans, “fuck. Having a concussion is like drinking on an empty stomach.”

The pillow of his bicep presses into yours, full well engulfing it. You turn to face him, chewing on your bottom lip worriedly. If this was his idea of a prank, you want to believe that he wouldn’t let it go on this long. Especially not when you and Noah look so concerned, the latter retrieving his phone to give his mother a call.

“Hey mom,” he says, sandwiching his phone between his shoulder and ear and getting to his feet. You do so too. Rafe staggers to a standing position far more clumsily. “Yeah — no — the snow’s been sick, but I’m calling because something’s happened with Rafe. No, no, nothing too serious, he’s just a little concussed and may have some temporary amnesia. I was wondering if…”

“Maybe we can go on a double date,” Rafe tries again, grinning hopefully. There’s a bit of snow that’s melted on your bottom lip from the fall, and he aches to thumb over it, tuck his fingers under your jaw. “You, Noah, me.”

“No, no, he remembers me,” Noah continues, sending you a significant look. “But he doesn’t remember — yeah, it’s pretty selective — uh, maybe a few meters? Uh… no, what the hell’s a trigger? I’ll…”

“What d’you reckon?” Rafe prompts.

Noah turns away and you move your gaze to Rafe, half amused, half exasperated. “You, me, and Noah? Who’re you going to bring?”

“You,” he replies, like it’s obvious.

“And Noah?”

“Me.”

You breathe out an exasperated laugh, shaking your head. Rafe thinks it’s the prettiest sound he’s ever heard. His already muddled brain short-circuits for the billionth time.

“…half an hour?” You hear Noah affirm, the frown on his features audible. “Yeah — no — it’s been just over that — a trigger like what, though? What d’you mean you don’t know him as well as I do, he’s been coming to our house since he was like six years old…”

You don’t realise your brow’s furrowing until your feel Rafe’s rough thumb brush over it. You startle, feeling your skin warm as you look up at him.

“I’m lucky,” he murmurs, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat.

You swallow. “Why?”

“You’re worried about me.” His hand drops to your jaw, thumb swiping over your cheek. You swallow instinctively. “And you’re way too beautiful to be worrying about someone like me.”

“You’ve lost your memory,” you answer weakly. “Anyone’d be worried.”

“I find that hard to believe.” He draws closer.

“Which part, exactly?”

“That people would worry,” he answers quietly, his voice gruff. Closer still. “That I’d forget about someone like you so easy.”

“But you have,” you prompt.

“Then remind me, sweetheart.”

“Not your sweetheart, Rafael,” you murmur, trying for a frown.

“Not my — wait.”

The thumb that’s swiping over your cheek freezes suddenly. “Wait,” he repeats, blinking several times. He scrunches his eyes shut, retrieving his hand to clutch it against his forehead. “Wait — fuck.”

You lean forward instinctively, tugging his arm away to look over his features, his concerning graze. “What? What’s wrong?”

“I knew…” he answers, shaking his head and groaning, “…but…shit, it’s so fucking obvious now —”

You furrow your brow in confusion, locking eyes with an equally bewildered Noah.

He holds his phone away from his ear, walking over and surveying Rafe’s features. “You good, brother?”

“Fine, shit,” Rafe curses again, scrubbing his hand over his face before meeting your gaze, chagrined. He grins hopefully. “That might’ve been quicker with true love’s kiss, though.”

You aren’t about to believe that he’s back without concrete evidence. “And my name is…?”

“Mrs Cameron,” he replies seriously.

You let out a scoff, more relief than indignation, catching the twinkle of mirth in his eyes. “Don’t ever do that again, you hear me?”

“Maybe,” he answers, raising his eyebrows, “if you let me take you out I’ll be too busy to bail.”

You roll your eyes. “Nice try.”

“But I’m maimed, sweetheart,” he adds, brushing back his dirty-blonde locks to show off the forehead graze. He pouts for good measure. “C’mon. Not even a pity date?”

You shake your head exasperatedly, catching Noah’s eye over his shoulder. “You’ll take it from here?”

“What? You aren’t gonna hang out with us?” Noah asks, pressing the phone against his chest. “I thought you were my girlfriend, Y/N.”

“Off limits, bro,” Rafe says matter-of-factly.

You’re about to protest when he draws closer and ducks his head, his warm breath on your earlobe cutting you off. “I won’t ever do that again,” he murmurs, the smile on his face audible, “I promise.”

“Good,” you answer, frowning sternly.

“Oh, and Y/N?”

You turn toward him, startling at his closeness. “Hm?”

He grins wider, brushing his nose against your fleetingly. “Missed remembering you bad, dream girl.”

[sashi-ya]

東京 NIGHTS mini event

𝑨 𝑫𝑹𝑰𝑵𝑲, 𝑨𝑵𝑫 𝑹𝑨𝑴𝑬𝑵 𝑻𝑶𝑶 ㅤㅤ 𓂃 ࣪˖ trafalgar law x f! reader

⤹˚ synopsis. would you invite your work colleague Law for ramen after some drinks at the bar?

requested by: @leftladyluminary ➡ May I request Law + A drink after work in a little bar of Shinjuku Golden Gai with a fem reader maybe a little nsfw (or completely lol) tw: MNDI. alcohol usage. nami x vivi heavily implied. abusive coworkers. law saving the night. smut with a "lot" of "plot". mutual pinning that both realized about it just now. oral. nipple play. vag sex. unprotected sex. creampie implied. did they eat the ramen? who knows. The bar does exist! it's the Bar Coo at Shinjuku Golden Gai! same as the train station (Yamanote Line, from Shibuya to Ueno) wc: 4.7k (sowwy) masterlist

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤI need sleep. I need sleep. I need sleep “(Name), come with us to the izakaya! Let’s have some beers!” ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤI just want to go home… “Law is coming too, it’s a miracle!” ㅤLaw? Law? I think I can afford yet another night of barely three hours sleep…

ㅤ“I’ll be there in a minute, let me turn off my computer and grab my coat!”

It’s not new information that your jobs are overexploiting you, working for such big company as the Don Quijote chain requires a lot. It is also not new information that once in a while -almost every time- you need to go have some drinks with your colleagues and bosses… because if you don’t, you aren’t engaging enough in that “work family” nobody likes, but everyone pretends to love.

There was a certain colleague, however, who always finds ways to sneak and never get to the bar with you… and that man, precisely, is the man of your dreams. He doesn’t know, and you are sure you shouldn’t tell him, as him is no other than the boss’ nephew.

Trafalgar Law, a tall man with an unfriendly façade but definitely handsome features. Or more than that, you could say. His eyes sometimes shine golden like the earrings he wear, and sometimes silver like the winter lights in Roppongi. He is covered in tattoos, a pretty unique characteristic for being an employee but a lot more logical if you think a little further about his Uncle. Nobody can say it out loud, but all of you know… they are most probably part of the Yakuza.

Despite that, you couldn’t care a less… Law has been your crush since the day you watch him walk into the office so carefree.

It’s a cold night, winter is coming faster than expected. It always does. November ends up quickly, and the first snows begin to tint everything in pristine white. Your long coat covers your body up to your ankles, as well as Law’s black one. You watch him walk, in silence. Most of your coworkers always try to rip words from his mouth, but he is not really interested in engaging in any conversations.

You watch his tattooed fingers scrolling through his phone, as all of you walk the streets of Shinjuku. The Golden Gai awaits for you in their little old Izakayas, all packed within a narrow passage of warm lights, and flickering signs.

“You are staring way too much, (Name)” Nami, one of your coworkers whispers.

You widen your eyes… “Is it that noticeable?”

“It is, but don’t worry… we all think the same, he is hot but also out of reach. I mean, maybe not for you, that is. You are more than beautiful but remember where he is coming from… be careful” she says, being pure honesty with you. She is only trying to protect you. And Nami is completely right, you should be careful with Law.

You smile at her, and both cuddle in each other’s arm grabbing until one of your colleagues chimes and ask the rest if it would be ok to try for nothing a certain bar that looks a little… secret -suspicious, too-.

“Coo bar? It looks weird… but the painting on the door makes it look pretty interesting” you think, waiting for them to knock on that painted wooden door that reminds you somehow to Van Gogh’s style.

A little window slides open, and a pair of black slanted eyes scan you all. They close the little gate and immediately after the door opens welcoming all of you inside.

Law allows everyone to walk pass first, while his eyes scan the surroundings. You, of course, are not the exception.

“Please, girls” he says, paying special attention to your burning cheeks. Nami, who is not really interested in men, simply smile, and walks inside the bar. You, remain a little bit more lost in his golden eyes, but ultimately walk inside too.

You were mostly sure he wouldn’t even put a foot inside, and rather walk away once all of you were unaware. But tonight, it was different, he stayed.

The inside of the tiny bar looks more like an old Japanese living room transformed into a restaurant. The walls are made of wood, and there are many random things hanging from them. Old maps, old posters, photographs, even a big hamster plush that looks as old as you.

The scent of yakiniku fills the ambience, and your stomachs growl with the simple thought of tasting that salty and sweet meat grilled right in front of you.

All of you get into the biggest table you could find, but the tight will be fit nonetheless. You, who always chose to sit last, this time had to move a little to the side. The man of long legs, and tattooed hands decided to sit right next to you.

“Are you comfortable, Law-san?” you ask, trying to make enough room for him to be sitting comfortably.

“Yes, thank you (Name)-ya” he says, kindly than you have ever listened him spoke.

You smile, softly, looking down at your fidgeting fingers.

Soon enough a friendly waitress comes ready to take your order. Of course not before putting the so awaited portable grill in the middle of the table.

The more meat, the better. All of you ask for it, and a beer each… that you are sure it will turn in more than three.

The conversation bases in gossiping about the office, nothing really deep and most of the topics all end up in laughter. Law, however, doesn’t really laugh and you are sure he is not even listening… he is just pretending to.

You take swift looks at him, glancing with the side of your eye at the tattoos of his hands; at how his phone screen shines constantly with more and more notifications. He must be a very required man, and most probably has a lover already if not more than one.

Of course, you are not an unpopular woman either. And most of your male coworkers always try their -non efficient, and pretty cringey- seductive tricks with you the moment a drop of alcohol reaches the tip of their tongues.

“(Name)! here, I grilled this one for you!” one of them say, using the clamps to pass you a piece of meat.

“Oh, thank you…” you murmur, receiving the food in your plate. A thing you shouldn’t have done as that -simple smelly monkey- man, thinks you want everything from him for just accepting a piece of tiny meat. -as tiny as his dick, probably-

Most of them also offer you to serve you more alcohol, as ordering for a glass turned into “bring us the bottle, it’s faster and cheaper”. They were right, it was cheaper. But annoying.

Nami, whose blood began turning into bubbly alcohol, throws to Vivi’s arms. Yet another sweet coworker, who is married, but her eyes-only shine for the redhaired coworker that’s always by your side. The moment they indulge in alcohol, their inhibitions are set free, and what’s meant to be… it’s meant to be.

And that means a sudden trip to the women bathroom, where you were not clearly invited -unless you were into it, in which case they were more than pleased to welcome you in-. But that also means you are sitting all by yourself now. Surrounded by idiots who, as well as the ladies, wanted to end up their night on a love hotel or maybe just the bathroom of the bar with you.

Law seems unfazed, and keeps eating, drinking, and reading something on his phone. Why is he there, after all, you have no idea.

As soon as Nami and Vivi’s spot are free, the guy who offered meat slides right next to you. Thinking he is sleek, only to hit the table and make most of the drinks to spill on top of it. Yet, he is not even worried about it; he is just interested in one thing, you.

“More?” he asks, coming closer and closer, forcing you to consequently graze Law’s arm with yours.

“Uh.. I’m full thanks” you lie. You aren’t even half full, but you don’t want shit from him.

“I meant in your glass, let me serve you…” he whispers, grimacing. The bottle lets its liquids pour into your tiny glass, with the strong intention of getting you as wasted as possible.

You swallow, you won’t drink that up. Not all of it. But he keeps coming closer, and by now, your leg also touches Law’s. And then your back, until it is too noticeable for the tattooed pal to stand up in a violent, quick motion.

“How much are you going to insist on her? She is practically sitting on my lap from how much you are bending over her” Law says, looking at him with eyes on fire and disgust on his voice.

“Traf- Trafalgar-san, I-“ he stutters, he is not worried about you but about his job continuation after this.

“Get the fuck away from here, I don’t want to see you anymore” Law spits, he is not interested in fighting. He has had enough. You are not sure if it was because your body touched him, or because he was trying to defend you… but in any case, you are grateful he did.

You look to the ground, knowing your position wasn’t safe either. This will have consequences, and misogyny always finds the way to win.

Law sits back down, as the rest move away from the long wooden seat to let the bastard go away. But right before he stood up, he whispered at you disgusting words you were already waiting to hear…

“You are a little whore, and you know that. You are probably sucking his dick, aren’t you… slut. Be very careful when you walk home alone tonight”

You chose to keep quiet, as everybody else did. Because nobody would stood up for a woman, not in a men’s world.

You watch him go, drinking almost all the glass in one chug. You needed something to drown the fear and disgust you were feeling right now.

“Are you ok, (Name)-ya? Don’t worry, he has his days counted” Law suddenly says, grabbing his phone again.

“I am… thank you so much, Law-san” you shily and respectfully appreciate his help. “I am sorry for ruining the night…” you whisper, finally.

“It wasn’t your fault, at all. Men like that don’t belong in our organiz- company”

You swallow… and soon you realize what he meant when he mentioned the man had his “days counted”. You try to think of any words to spare the life of the abuser, but soon you chose to stay silent. You didn’t force him to do anything, after all.

Nami and Vivi leave the bar, without saying much. You didn’t want to tell them about the “situation”; you didn’t want to ruin their -lustful- end of the night.

As for the rest of your coworkers, most stood up to smoke outside, while others already took their leaves. Law, remained on his seat until one of the guys invited him to go smoke with them.

There is no point in staying; that drunk bastard won’t probably fulfil his threats against you as he is most probably passed out somewhere else due to the alcohol. Therefore, you pay your share, take your coat, and get outside the bar.

You try to leave without alerting anyone, but it is impossible to do so as one of your coworkers wave goodbye at you.

“Oi, (Name)? are you leaving already?! See you on Monday!” he screams; a scream that catches everyone’s attention, including Law’s.

You wave at them and begin to walk away with your keys in your hands and praying to reach for Shibuya as fast as possible to take the JR towards home… hopefully safe and sound by the end of the night.

A sudden pull in your wrist scares you and wasn’t for his fast reaction one of the keys would have ended carved somewhere on Law’s body.

“Oi, calm down. It’s me. I heard what he said on the bar, let me accompany you”  Law says, putting down your hand slowly so he doesn’t get hurt by your keys.

You sigh, relived. Law is still a stranger, but if you had to die you would prefer doing it by the hand of a hot killer…

“Thank you, Law-san. But do you think is it ok? What are they gonna think? Plus, I live in Ueno” you ask, worried for future -unfortunately fake- rumours.

Law lifts his shoulders. “I personally don’t give a single fuck about that. I do, however, care for your safety”

You scoff sweetly, he doesn’t seem like one… but he is, indeed, a gentleman. A real man.

“If you don’t mind, then let’s go. I will repay the favour with some delicious ramen if you allow me. Right in front of my apartment we have the best convenience store of all Tokyo”  you chime, happily. Perhaps you mistaken this by a date, but at least for some seconds you indulge on the happy thought of it.

Law nods. “The best one? What makes it so special?”

“It’s special because I spent many nights studying there late at night having the best instant ramen” you inform, proud of it.

He scoffs, and a little smirk appears on his lips. “Good, I wanna try the ramen there. As long as it doesn’t contain bread, I’m good”

You notice he can be a lot more interesting than what you thought; despite keeping the mysterious aura, he is a very talkative guy when he feels comfortable. And, apparently, he does with you.

Most of the conversation turns into a nerdy talk about his favourite comic series, that it is surprisingly the same as yours. And you couldn’t be happier, at least a dreadful night ended up better than expected.

Getting to Shibuya was easy; but the last train was about to part. Therefore, both of you, a little dizzy from the drinks -specially you- found the running a lot more challenging than expected. Yet ultimately, grabbed by Law’s hand, you were able to reach the train just in time before doors closed.

“I am so relieved we made it in time!” you sigh, sitting on one of the empty seats. “Same… I mean you could have taken a taxi but…” Law murmured, stopping his words midway. He realized that sending you home in a taxi would be the end of the time together… and he didn’t want that.

Law then proceeds to sit right next to you, crossing his long legs in such way it makes you bite your lower lip. He is a tease by total nature, he doesn’t even try. And he probably knows that too well. As the girls right in front of him gossip and giggle while looking at him.

The train ride is a little long, and the exhaustion suddenly hits you. You remember the fact that sleeping had been rather scarce the last few days of the week, plus the alcohol in your system…

The next station is Ueno. Doors will open on the right

“(Name)-ya… I think this is our station… wake up”  Law’s soft voice whisper in your dreams, and your comfortable pillow suddenly takes the form of what it really was; his shoulder.

“Oh my, sorry! I didn’t mean…” you apologize, quickly brushing off the sleepiness. You notice he is not mad at you, but his façade has relaxed a lot more since the beginning of the night.

“It’s ok, you’ve been working a lot more than the rest lately. You are always the last one to leave the office” he says, helping you stand up and walking to the doors of the train.

You rub your eyes… he knows? That means he’s been watching you… but for how long, and why?

Ueno is as pretty as Shinjuku. The trees that will turn pink in the spring, now hold flowers made of silver flickering lights. There is a considerably less amount of people compared to the big city, though.

The cold air that hits your cheeks wake you up almost instantly, and you are back at having enough energy to eat that instant ramen that you promise Law.

“So, are you still up for the ramen?” you ask, shy and still ashamed for falling asleep on his shoulder. You wonder if snore or even worse… drool on him.

Law nods with a smile on his face and his eyes closed. He is also tired, but he doesn’t want to leave, and you can tell.

You guide him, and after walking a few blocks, the convenience store appears in the corner of a calm neighbourhood’s street.

“Come on, follow me” you chime, pulling from his hand inside the store.

Law follows, and for the first time both grab each other’s hands tightly. Despite gasping, you keep squeezing it… it feels like a dream…

perhaps it is, and I’m still sleeping on the train?

The cashier greets you both, and immediately after recognizing you she informs that the water boiler won’t be working until Monday in case you were there for ramen.

“We can have it in your place if you are ok with it” Law suggests, and your stomach gets full of butterflies… is this like the korean “would you like to come home for ramen?”, is this your “Netflix and chill”?

You nod. After all he did for you, there is no point in letting him go back to Tokyo with at least nothing warm to eat.

Soon he buys two packets of ramen, two sticks of cheese and two cans of sakura edition Monster. And without much conversation you two cross the street to finally reach for your apartment.

The ride on the elevator was as silent as the very beginning, apparently none of you had something further to say… both were absorbed into your own thoughts; what type were the ones inside his head, you begin to wonder.

“Here we are, my room might be in shambles. But the rest I think looks fine” you joke, opening the door and turning on the light.

You were to lie if you said you weren’t lucky; your department is tiny but still has beautiful looks towards the city. Nothing fancy, but decent and exquisitely decorated.

Law smiles, pleased. He enjoys spaces like yours.

“I like you…r place…” he whispers, right behind your back while you walk towards the open kitchen.

“Thanks…” you whisper back, biting your lower lip; sensing the high tension in the air like little zaps of energy, like counter shocks.

You receive the bag with the food from his hands and put a pot of water on the stove. It is necessary for a good instant ramen to boil the water before putting the noodles in. Or so that’s what you always thought. In any case, you needed your mind to be anywhere else but the idea of pleading him to fuck you against the counter.

“(Name)-ya, are you single?” he suddenly asks, after the last crumble of noodles fall from your hands into the bubbly water.

You turn around, slowly. Your ponder whether you should lie to him, or not. Perhaps a taken woman would be a lot more interesting to chase than looking like a lonely girl.

“Because I haven’t seen any man around you…” he continues, sitting on one of the stools and letting his elbows on the counter.

Busted. You can’t lie.

“I am single, yes. What about you, Law-san?” you ask, it is proper -and necessary for you to know-.

Law bends forward, his chin rests on his hand and his golden eyes fix in yours. You realize there has to be a hint of eyeliner on his waterline, and the dark circles intensify under the low light of your kitchen.

“Would you prefer to listen I am?” he asks, straightforwardly and so sexily.

You swallow; what…. the fuck?

“It depends, honestly. I wouldn’t like to be the other woman if you weren’t single” your words sound bigger than yourself, your eyes widen because you don’t even know who is talking right now… but it is definitely not your normal you; this is most likely, your horny you… the “you” that can’t keep hiding how much you are into your boss’ nephew.

Law stands up, walks around the breakfast bar and dominantly -yet, very, very slow- takes his fingers to your chin. You move slightly to the side, allowing your butt to hit the counter behind.

Your fingers clutch to the cold stone surface, your hips feels like magnets being pulled, attracted against the other’s.

“Is that so, (Name)-ya? Well… I am single, indeed” Law whispers, coming closer, so dangerously closer to your lips. His thumb, inked with the letter D, grazes your lower lip ever so softly. And you pout, just enough for him to be able to play with it.

Your sloppy eyelids, your separated lips, your head barely tilted to the side… like feverish, in need of medicine... Law’s lips medicine.

“I’m glad you are…” you moan, opening your mouth just enough to trap with your front teeth his thumb right after. The tip of your tongue follows, wetting his finger. And then, so that there are no more doubts, you suck on it so deliciously lustful.

Law takes a big breath, and sighs right after. He is smirking, so dark. Like you never seen him before. Like you always wish you did.

He lifts you up, helping you sit on top of the counter. Your legs, spread, allow him to come closer.

“You are glad I am gonna fuck you tonight, too?” he asks, leaving you breathless… continuing with the lack of oxygen, as his lips crash on yours.

His tongue, disrespectfully sexual, violates your mouth in pure impetuous need. With gasping and moaning in between, with heavy breathing, with desire for your flesh that seems to be unleashed after being trapped like a beast for so long.

The more he kisses you, the more he wants more. And you do, too.

His playful hands, lift the blouse that seemed to be so enticing to his eyes all through out the night. His delicate fingers crawl from your belly to your chest, squeezing your breasts with no modesty, with no decency.

When he lets your lips free, you feel them swollen, aching for more. You open your eyes, meeting his and a shiver runs through your back. The most handsome man in the earth is right in front of you, wanting to devour you… so desperately.

“So, are you glad… (Name)-ya?” he asks, again. This time with his hand on your neck, squeezing on the right spot to make you dizzy and horny.

“Mhj… yes… please, fuck me” you beg, so weak for his touch.

“Heh” he smirks, ripping your blouse, making the buttons pop and fly away. He doesn’t mind, he doesn’t care… “This damn blouse… you always wear it on Fridays, don’t you? it was making me so hard to see the way your nipples barely peeking through them with the air conditioner… heh…” he moans, with his lips pressed on the commissure of your lips.

For how long have you been watching me in silence, Law? …

Law kisses you one more time before going down to your neck and breasts. The nipples he mentioned were once and for all right before his eyes, hard because of him and not because of the a/c.

Desperately, he cups your right breast, trapping your hard sensitive button with his front teeth. Sucking, twisting, licking. Your body quivering, spasming. Your nails pulling from his messy onyx hair in response to pleasure.

A few more minutes, where you barely reached for the stove to turn it off, are enough for him to want more and more of your body.

“And then, this damn black tight skirt… were you doing it on purpose? Letting your paperwork to fall to the floor, for me to see right when you bent to pick them up, your panties through your pantyhose…? Mh? (Name)-ya?” he asks, kneeling in between your legs, sliding your skirt up, grazing the nylon tights with his teeth.

Why lie? If he was completely right? You did. You did so many times. And yet, never once you thought he could see, he could notice… you remain silent, because silence speaks louder than words…

“You did it on purpose, didn’t you?” he scoffs, carving with his middle finger a hole on your thighs, ripping violently down to expose your core. The view is pure art to him… to see your dripping wet panties, and the flesh of your thighs protruding from the indentations and ripped places of your panty hose...

He kisses those patches of free skin, and then bites them too. He enjoys the way the nylon material gets wet around with his own saliva; you quiver to the sensation, the cutting sharp edges, the kisses, his teeth grazing, the wetness increasing.

And those kisses, that keep going up and up, reach your core for the first time. “How much I wanted to taste your sex… you got me wanting to do it so bad” he grunts with his lips on your wet panty. The warmth of his breath against your sex, makes you flinch… a sting on your clit that felt like a bullet.

A kiss, a lick. Fine fabric getting drenched. Eyes turning white, his nose buried, inhaling your scent. Curious fingertips, moving lace away. The moment his tongue reached for your folds; your heels carved in between his shoulder blades.

Eating you out, you throw back your head, moaning loud, loudly. But you want even more… And almost like if he could read your mind, he stands up. Law uses his inked, veiny hand to clean -or rather spread- the mess you’ve made on his mouth and chin.

“You want me to fuck you, don’t you… you are insatiable, I’ve always knew it” he growls, perhaps ignorant to the fact you are insatiable but only for him.

“I want you” you simply babble, ripping his yellow shirt off to discover his inked chest. The heart on his pecs that goes down until his belly button, pointing to his hardness fighting against his jeans… “I want you so bad…” you whine again.

“Then let me fuck you the way you deserve, (Name)-ya” he moans, biting your lower lip. You help him to get free from his clothes, desperately. You want it now; he wants it more than you.

Soon, his hardness blesses you with his imponent presence in between his fingers. Drippy, slightly veiny, pinkish tip that turns redder the second it passes. He pumps just enough to spread the precum all over, perhaps in an attempt to lubricate… as if it was really needed… you are sure your juices have dripped to your kitchen floor.

With not much, but only pure passion, he lifts one of your legs up until your whole sole is touching the counter. Well spread, enough for him to fit perfectly in, he pulls you closer to the edge.

“I am dying to try your walls clenching around my dick, (Name)-ya” he huffs, with his forehead pressed against yours.

“I want you inside of me, please…” you beg, taking your hips closer to his drippy gland.

Law kisses you brutally, to impale you equally after. He drinks your moans; you breathe off his grunts. His hands land on the small of your back, moving in an out of you with strong pace. While your nails carve on his shoulders, leaving marks of love.

The sound of skin slapping skin flood the kitchen, mixed with the pleasure song of your throats.

Law carries you to the table, and your body lies there until he can bend completely over you to keep fucking you while kissing and biting everything he has in front. You do the same, pulling from his lip, biting his neck, his shoulders… trapping him against you, with no way out, with your legs snaked tightly around his waist.

Nothing matters the most, than him never leaving your insides. Nothing matters the most that being bound to the other, mixed in one and only.

Filled with his release, he keeps on going. Reaching for one, two, three times the maximum climax… more, more and more…

“We can eat the ramen tomorrow… right?” “Y-yes…”

[cosyvelvetorchid]

New bucktommy oneshot just landed!

I'll Crawl Home To Him

This was supposed to be a short drabble of an alternate meeting but it quickly ran away from me, lol.

Read on ao3 or below.

Enjoy!

**********

Word: 12,478

Rated: E

Summary:

Buck, visiting his parents with his sister and her family, end up leaving the house in a snowstorm after his parents prove yet again that they were incapable of change.

After finding himself at a local motel to get out of the storm, he unexpectedly finds himself spending the whole evening with the owner, who by an incredible coincidence used to work at the 118.

Before the night is over Buck’s entire world has been flipped upside down. But leaving to go back home was not going to be easy

**********

Buck knew it was a stupid idea to walk out of the house when a snow storm was just beginning but he was just so mad! Mad at his parents for being typically them, mad at his sister for convincing him to go there in the first place, but most of all he was mad at himself for, yet again, for believing that they had changed.

It had taken a while and a boat load of therapy—both separately and together—after the heart wrenching revelation of Buck having had an older brother that had died and everybody had kept it quiet like a dirty secret, for Buck to trust that they truly regretted their mistakes and wanted to make things right. The thing is, Buck knew that they would never have the kind of relationship he had wished that they could have had when he was growing up—he knew that that ship had sailed. He had accepted that at best they could have the kind of relationship where they could stand to be in the same room without fighting and maybe come to a mutual respect for one another.

But just as he had started to believe that they really did mean it when they said they wanted to change and build a relationship with their son, they show their true—and old—colours.

He’d had fights with his parents before; more than he could count, but this one, despite it being no different than other fights they’d had—his parents critiquing his life choices like they had done a thousand times before—hit different this time.

Maybe because it had been a while since they’d done it. Maybe because he’d believed they’d changed. Maybe because Maddie and Chim and Jee-Yun were there too or maybe because it was winter in Pennsylvania and he fucking hated the cold!

But it did hit different. He could almost hear the snap in his heart as his mother spat her usual vitriol at the son who could never do right.

His eyes were streaming as he trudged along the sidewalk-less road—a mixture of emotion and the ice-cold wind blowing into his face. He didn’t have a destination in mind when he left the house—he just knew he needed to get out. Get away.

He had no idea how long he had been walking—he’d turned off his phone after the 15th call from Maddie he’d ignored, and he hadn’t put his watch back on after shower he’d had just before the fight with his parents. He’s was only wearing sweats, a T-shirt and hoodie when he left the house—stopping only to put on his sneakers—and the snow that was now coming down heavily had quickly soaked his clothes through.

He knew he’d walked roughly 6 miles when he rounded a bend in the road and the Mountain Laurel motel came into view. He could have honestly walked another 20 miles, fuelled entirely by the anger he felt, but he was soaking wet and the last vestige of logical thinking left in his head told him it was probably a good idea to stop.

The sign high above flashed ‘vacancies, in big neon purple letters in front of the parking lot at the front of the motel that empty save for one truck parked by the entrance. He opened the creaking door to the foyer and stepped along the old, threadbare and ugly brown carpet, feeling a pang of guilt for leaving a wet trail in his wake.

The place smelt as though someone had emptied an empire can of pine scented air freshener and it made Bucks throat dry breathing it in. He approached the high mahogany counter and palmed at the scuffed bell and waited.

“One second!” Came a deep voice from the back room. A few seconds later the door at the back opened and a tall, well built man appeared wiping his mouth with a napkin. Buck immediately noticed the man’s striking blue eyes as he looked across at him.

“Sorry, was eating dinner.” He said. “Welcome to the Mountain Laurel. You’re looking for a room?”

“Uh, yeah. Please.” Buck answered wrapping his arms around himself in a pointless attempt to stop himself from shivering.

“Hmm, that might be difficult—we’re very busy tonight.” The man answered.

“Oh. Uh..” He truly couldn’t take anymore and was on the verge of more tears. The man noticed and his expression immediately changed.

“That was a joke.” He corrected. “Sorry, I’ve always been told I have a bad sense of humour. We’re actually completely empty tonight—you’re our only guest so if you want a room you have your pick of any.” He smiled warmly and deep lines appeared around his eyes. Buck let out a sigh of relief.

“Honestly, any room is fine.” He said sighing. The man typed on the computer that looked like it was made before he Buck was born, then unhooked a key from the hooks on the wall behind him.

“Room number two it is.” He said. “Name?”

“Evan Buckley.”

“How long are you staying, Evan?”

“Uh..” Buck hadn’t thought about that. He hadn’t thought he’d be staying in a motel at all. “I..”

The man seemed to sense that Buck was struggling and offered a helping hand. “I’ll put you down for one night and if you want to extend your stay just let me know.”

“Thanks, th-that would be, uh.. yeah.”

“Good. Are you paying by cash or card?”

“Card.” He said opening his wallet. The man gave him the price and completed the transaction before handing Buck his card back and then a room key.

“Second room on the left as you go outside. You need any help with bags?”

“No, I.. I didn’t come with any.” Buck admitted.

“Oh.” The man said with surprise. “Well, if you need anything I’ll be here.” He smiled again and Buck tried to reciprocate but didn’t have the energy for anything other than a half smile.

The room was as basic as he’d expected for a cheap Pennsylvania motel. A double bed, with surprisingly white linen for this type of establishment, on one side of the room, with a cheap wooden nightstand on either side of it, each with a lamp. Opposite the bed was a mid sized dresser with a TV from the dark ages sat atop.

Usually the first thing he’d check was the state of the bathroom but he simply didn’t have the energy to do so. Instead he slumped onto the edge of bed and put his head in his hands.

A knock at the door startled him. He opened it to find the man from the reception standing there.

“Uh, hey..”

“Tommy.” The man introduced.

“Tommy, right. Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, I, uh, thought you could use these.” He held out a small pile of clothes. Buck looked at him with a mixture of surprise and confusion. “You’re clearly soaked to the bone and you said you didn’t have any bags with you. They’re nothing special—just some old sweats, a T-shirt and hoodie. No underwear though—that would be weird.” He chuckled.

Buck felt kind of pathetic. This guy—Tommy—pitied him. Why else would he offer his clothes to a stranger? He was a grown man for god sake and here he was contemplating accepting clothes from a stranger and all because he didn’t want to see his parents.

“If you don’t need them..” Tommy began to say and Buck almost snatched the clothes out of his hand. Regardless of how he was feeling about it, he couldn’t deny that he was soaking wet and freezing cold, and a hot shower and fresh clothes—even those belonging to a stranger—did sound nice.

“No! I mean.. thank you that’s.. that would be helpful.” Tommy handed them over. “Thanks, To-Tommy.”

“You’re welcome, Evan. And if want a beer or something to eat I’ll be in the entertainment centre.”

Buck raised his eyebrows in surprise. “You have an entertainment centre?”

“We have uncomfortable chairs, a flat screen and beer fridge if that counts?”

Buck couldn’t help let out a huffed laugh. “Uh, I don’t know—I’m pretty exhausted.” He told Tommy honestly.

“Fair enough. Well, if you change your mind.” Tommy shot him a finger gun and began to turn away.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome, Evan.”

Buck considered correcting Tommy and telling him he’d rather go by Buck, but he really didn’t care all that much. He’d spent the last 3 days continuously correcting his parents which didn’t make a damn difference—“We chose your name so we have the right to use it.”—his mother had said, and quite frankly he was tired of correcting.

He finally decided to inspect the bathroom and was impressed to find it was actually clean—no soap scum on the mirror or around the sink, no mildew in the bathtub or white calcium build up on the shower. And the toilet actually looked like it had been cleaned!

He turned on the shower above the bath tub, removed his wet clothes and got in under the hot water, hoping the heat would wash away his feelings.

He wasn’t that lucky.

**

He inspected himself in the full length mirror on the back of the bathroom door. He almost laughed at how ridiculous he looked in Tommys clothes. The shirt and hoodie were fine, if a little bigger on him than he would usually prefer. But the sweatpants were loose on the ass, tight on the thighs and short on the leg.

They smelled really good he had noticed—a warm, spiced scent. He toyed with the idea of asking Tommy what detergent he used but that would probably be weird, right? Although no weirder than giving a stranger your clothes he supposed.

He looked at his still turned off phone and contemplated turning it on to call Bobby as he would tell him it would be okay. But, quite frankly, he didn’t want that. At least not yet. He was righteously angry and didn’t need anybody telling him it’ll all be okay.

Instead, he turned it not, ignored all the messages that came in, shot a quick text to Maddie telling her he was okay and needed space, then shut it off again and left his room.

He walked into the ‘Entertainment centre’, which Tommy wasn’t kidding when he described it—a few tables with chairs, a flat screen tv on the back wall and a small counter which presumably had a beer fridge behind it. The door opened behind him and Tommy walked into the room.

“Evan. You changed your mind.” He said with a surprise. His eyes looked down Bucks body wearing his clothes and he raised an eyebrow when he saw the flash of ankle sticking out of the bottom of the sweatpants. Buck felt himself blush.

“Long legs.” He answered to an unasked question.

“I can see.” Tommy replied; the corner his mouth rising. “Can I get you a beer?”

“Uh, Yeah.” Tommy removed two bottles from the fridge behind the counter, opened them both and handed one to Buck. “Thanks.” Tommy leant on the counter as Buck stood looking at his surroundings. “So how long have you worked here?” Tommy laughed into his beer bottle. “What?”

“I own the place, kid.”

“Oh.”

“That surprise you?” He asked.

“Kinda, yeah.”

“Why?” Tommy asked.

“You look like you.. I dunno.. like-like you’d do something more physical for a living.” He replied looking at Tommy’s arms. The plaid shirt he was wearing over a Henley wasn’t exactly hiding his large biceps. He wondered if they were bigger than his.

“You’re not exactly wrong—I’m actually a firefighter.“

“No way? I’m a firefighter too.” Buck excitedly said.

“Yeah? Here in Hershey?”

“Uh, no, thank god. L.A. The 118.”

Tommys mouth slackened and he stared at Buck in disbelief. “Nash still Captain?”

Now it was Bucks turn to be in a state of disbelief. “You know Bobby?”

Tommy chuckled. “He was my captain.” Buck put his beer down on the counter a little too hard and foam rushed out of the top of the bottle.

“Shit! Sorry!” He tried bent forward to catch some of it in his mouth and Tommy just looked at him wide-eyed before swallowing and grabbing some paper towels from under the counter.

“Don’t worry, I got it.” He lifted up the bottle and wiped the counter down.

“I can’t believe Bobby was your captain. When did you leave the 118?”

“I transferred out about 6 years ago—went to harbor.”

“Holy shit you’re Tommy!” Buck exclaimed after doing the math in his head.

“Usually.” He quipped.

“You helped us with that fire at Doheny Park.”

Tommy nodded remembering Howie’s call. “Well, it wasn’t just me, but yeah. How is Howie by the way? We haven’t spoken in a while.”

Buck couldn’t help but laugh. “He’s good. He’s, uh, actually engaged to my sister, Maddie. Got a kid, too.”

“Wow! Good for him.”

“Yeah. He’s here, actually, with Maddie and my niece.” Buck told him. Tommy’s face changed to confusion.

“So why are you here and not with them?”

It was a valid question but Buck wasn’t really sure if he wanted to answer it. Truth be told he actually wanted to scream it all out; get all of the frustration and anger and resentment out of his system, but Tommy had already done enough for him by lending him his clothes—the last thing he needed was to hear about Bucks pathetic family problems.

“They’re, uh.. they’re with my parents.” He simply answered.

“And I’m guessing you don’t want to be?” Tommy gathered.

“Nope.” Buck said simply. Tommy correctly ascertained that he didn’t want to talk about it and changed the subject.

“So, what’s the 118 like these days?” He asked instead and Bucks face opened into a smile.

“It’s good. We’re a family. I couldn’t imagine being stationed anywhere else.”

“That’s good. I remember Captain Nash introducing family dinners.” Tommy said fondly remembering them.

Buck nodded as he sipped his beer. “He still does them. Actually, he’s been teaching me since I joined and recently he’s started letting me cook for everyone.”

“Yeah?���

“I’m not as good as him, but the team seems to like it. So, was Bobby always your captain?”

Tommys shifted uncomfortably in his stance and sighed. “No. For most of the time I was there we had Gerrard at the helm.”

“Chim and Hen have talked about him. Bad guy, right?”

“That’s putting it mildly—he was a bigot. And I.. he did not make me a better person.”

Buck wanted to ask what he meant but wasn’t sure if he could. Tommy, however, surprised him.

“I wasn’t the kindest to Hen and Howie when they first joined the 118.” He admitted. “I never agreed with the things that Gerrard would say or how he treated them, but I was way deep in the closet back then and terrified of being found out and Gerard making me a target. That’s not an excuse, by the way—I was wrong in how I handle it; handled him, but like I said—he did not make me a better person.” He took a sip from his bottle then continued picking at the sticker on it.

Buck wasn’t sure how to respond to Tommy’s candour. He obviously felt bad—his body language and facial expressions gave that away as he was speaking.

“I mean, if it makes you feel better whenever Chim and Hen talk about you it’s always positive.”

“Hmm.” Tommy responded, neither negative nor positive.

“Were you, uh.. out at the 118? I mean when Bobby took over?”

Tommy shook his head. “No. I knew everyone else would probably be fine with it, but I wasn’t. It wasn’t until I moved to Harbor that I stopped lying about who I was.” Tommy walked out from the counter and gestured towards one of the tables and they both sat down.

“Is that why you transferred?”

“No, I missed flying. Used to do it in the army.”

“God you’re so fucking cool!” Buck exclaimed without thinking and immediately felt his face flush with embarrassment. He could have sworn, though, that he saw a subtle blush to Tommy’s cheeks too.

“You need to raise your bar, kid.”

“Come on—you’re a firefighter and a pilot!” Buck argued. Tommy held his eyes to him for a moment and smiled.

Buck felt a warmth run through him as he looked at Tommy. He wondered what it would have been like if he’d have joined the 118 and Tommy was still there. Not to mention It was one hell of a coincidence that the man who left the 118 and creating the space for him to join, happened to be running a hotel a few miles away from his parent’s house.

“It’s crazy isn’t it?”

“What is?”

“You and me, here. I-I mean you leave the 118 so that I can join. 6 years later you’re running a motel in my home town.”

“It definitely is strange.” Tommy said.

“How come you’re here?”

“This placed used to belong to my dad.”

“Did he hand it down to you?”

Tommy almost choked on his beer. “God no! He be turning in his grave if he knew I owned the place.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realise he’d passed away.”

Tommy waved him away “Don’t be—he was a bastard. He was the reason I knew how to handle Gerrard. He actually left the place to my uncle in his will, but then he died a few months ago and it was passed on to me. I’m only keeping it open until I can find a buyer, then I’m going back to L.A.”

“Back to Harbor?”

“That’s the plan.” He finished the last of his beer. “You want another?”

“Sure.” Buck said finishing off the last of his. Tommy got them both a fresh bottle and sat back down.

“Thanks.”

Tommy looked at Buck with narrowed eyes for a moment before a wave of realisation came over him. “I just realised who you are.”

“The hottest firefighter in L.A?” Buck joked.

“That too.” Tommy said with a smirk and Buck found himself blushing again. Tommy noticed but said nothing of it.

“You’re the guy that got crushed by the engine.”

Bucks smile slowly fell. “Uh, yeah. That-that was me.” He looked down at his beer bottle.

“I’m sorry, Evan. We don’t have to talk about it.” Tommy said softly.

“No it’s.. it’s fine. It was just a hard time, you know?”

“I can imagine.”

“I thought my career was over. I got through all the surgeries and rehab, and just when I passed my recertification I threw a blood clot in my lung. Puked up blood all over Bobby and Athena’s patio.”

“Jesus, Evan.”

“Yeah. Then I was on blood thinners for a while and Bobby wouldn’t let me back on the team out of fear something would happen to me.”

“That makes sense.”

“I know that now, but back then? Man, I was so angry. And desperate. The 118 was, is, my life. It’s the only thing I’ve ever done that meant something and the idea of losing it?” He swallowed away the emotion rising in his throat. It was years since it happened but the memory of the fear and trauma of what he went through were a still a part of him. Likely would be forever.

“I’m ashamed to admit but I actually tried to sue the department. And Bobby.”

“Seriously?”

“Yep. Like I said I was just so angry. I couldn’t understand why they wouldn’t let me back in. Yeah I was on blood thinners but I was on them and survived a god damn tsunami. Saved some lives too.”

“You were in the tsunami?” Tommy asked.

“I was on the pier with my best friend’s kid when it hit.”

“Sounds like you need to be wrapped in bubble wrap.”

“I think that was Bobby’s thought, too. Anyway, eventually I came to my senses and dropped the lawsuit. And-and Bobby realised that he needed to trust that I was ready and let me back in.”

“What about the blood thinners? You still take them?”

“No.” He said “turns out it was the bolts on my leg causing them. Once they removed them I was back to normal.” He smiled.

“Here’s to that.” Tommy lifted up his beer and Buck clinked his bottle into Tommy’s. “Any other life threatening injuries on the job?”

“The emergency tracheotomy wasn’t on the job so that doesn’t count, but-“

“Hold up.” Tommy sat up in his seat “you had an emergency tracheotomy?”

Buck pulled down the neck of his, well, Tommy’s, T-shirt to show him the faded scar. “Yep. Worst first date ever.”

“It happened on a first date?!”

Buck couldn’t help but laugh at Tommy’s shock.

“She was the one who did it.”

“Holy shit, really?!”

“Yep. With a steak knife.” He added. Tommys eyes widened. “I feel like I should point out she was a 911 operator so not exactly a laymen. But she had someone one the phone talking her through it.”

“Jesus, Evan. Anything else?”

“I did get struck by lightning.”

Tommy choked on the sip of beer he was drinking and coughed.

“Are you okay?” Buck asked.

“Are you?!” Tommy threw back.

“Miraculously, yeah. Though technically I did die for over 3 minutes.” He said plainly.

“I think I’m might have to wrap you in bubble wrap and keep you here for safety.” Tommy said shaking us head.

“What, like your pet?” Tommys head quickly shot back to Buck. His head was tilted with a soft smirk on his face.

Buck didn’t know what he said that. Tommys pet? Really? jesus, Evan!

“You have any major injuries at work?” He quickly moving the conversation along.

“Just one.” He stood and lifted his shirt up to reveal a long scar—about 4 inches long—on the right side of his upper torso. “Factory explosion. Caught a big piece of shrapnel.”

Before Buck knew what he was doing his hand was reaching out and his fingertips were delicately tracing the scar. Tommy audibly inhaled a breath and goosebumps exploded on his skin. The sound of Tommy breathing in brought Buck back to reality.

“I’m-I’m sorry—I shouldn’t have.. that wasn’t.. sorry.” He quickly withdrew his hand and sat it in his lap. He suddenly couldn’t look Tommy in the eye. What the hell was that he just did?!

“It’s fine.” Tommy said lowering his shirt and sitting back down.

“So what happened with the tracheotomy first date? Did anything happen with them?”

“Yeah, I uh, actually lived with her for a while. Sorry of accidentally, really.”

“How do you accidentally live with someone?” Tommy asked, a curious look on his face. Buck chuckled.

“She was taking care of her mom at the time, Alzheimer’s, and after she died I wanted to better for her to help her through it. At some point I just sort never left.” He explained.

“But you broke up eventually?”

Buck sighed. “Yeah. She, uh, was having a hard time with her moms passing and decided to go travelling; have a “Eat, Pray, Love” experience, which, I didn’t know what that meant at the time—did you know it was a book? Apparently this lady wanted to find herself after getting divorced. Which I kind of get. Not-not the divorce part—the finding yourself part-” Buck stopped himself. “Sorry, I’m rambling.”

“Ramble away, I don’t mind.” Tommy told him with an easy smile. It made Buck feel at ease. Plenty of people, mostly exes, had told him they didn’t mind him rambling but he knew they were just saying it to not hurt his feelings. But there was something about how Tommy was looking at him that told him he was being genuine.

“Anyway, long story short she never came back.” He sipped his beer. “Mmm, that’s not true—she did come back about a year and half later with a fiancé in tow.”

“Ouch.” Tommy said. Buck nodded in agreement.

“But I mean I get it now—she was an older woman and she’d lived so long being the safety net for other people and she’d lost herself along the way. I think being with me reminded her of being a little more care free, but it wasn’t sustainable. Least not for her.”

“How old was she?”

“45.”

“And you were?”

“Uh, 23.”

“So you like them older?” Tommy smirked.

Buck laughed. “Uh, not really. I mean I don’t really care about age, it’s more about competency for me. I like people who are good at what they do and can confidently do it.”

“I get that.” He said. They held eye contract for a moment and Buck realised he actually felt a little better than he had when he had walked in. There was something so easy about Tommy. He never would have shared what he had with anybody else he’d just met.

“What about you? You ever had your heart broken?” Buck asked.

“Once.” Tommy answered. “Guy I served with. For obvious reasons we kept it secret, but after we got discharged I thought that we could actually have something. Turned out he just saw me as a way to pass the time while on tour. He’s married to a woman now with a couple of kids.”

“I’m sorry, that’s.. that sucks.”

“It did for a while.” He confessed.

“You ever come close since?” Buck asked.

Tommy shook his head. “Not really. I’ve dated here and there but most guys that are attracted to me because of my physique and being a firefighter.”

“Yeah, it must be so hard being so hot.” Buck teased. Tommy laughed and nudged Bucks leg with his knee under the table then turned it back on Buck.

“But you think I’m hot?” Tommy looked at Buck and pursed his lips. Buck lost all moisture in his mouth and is heart thudded against his ribcage. It wasn’t.. it’s not like he didn’t know Tommy was.. Look, anybody with working eyes could see that he was gorgeous. He was tall, board and muscular and that cleft.. he’d be lying if he said he didn’t, kind of, sort of, maybe a little bit want to poke his pinky finger into it. Those eyes too—big and blue and surrounded by extraordinarily long eyelashes.

“You know you are.” He said back trying to sound confident. Tommy simply smirked again in response.

“Well, it would be nice to meet someone who was interested in getting to know me as a person.”

“Nah, I get it—people are impressed with the job but once they realise you’re an actual person with feelings they don’t stick around for long.” Buck commiserated with him.

“It’s why I don’t date people I meet on calls anymore.”

“Uh-huh.” Buck said into his bottle. “You know I once met an ex responding to a helicopter crash, which.. should have been the first clue.”

“Yeah it’s never works out the way you expect.” Tommy agreed.

“Learned that the third time around.” Buck laughed. “I met the last one at a living funeral—she was a death doula.”

“What the hell is a death doula?” Tommy asked.

“She helped people who were terminally ill accept that they were dying and supported them through it.” Buck explained.

“Oh, well that’s noble.”

“Yeah, I thought so. Until all she wanted to talk about was when I died from the lightning strike.” He said and Tommy scoffed.

Without warning everything went dark and silence surrounded them.

“Well that was creepy timing.”

“God damn electrics in this place!” Tommy complained with a sigh and turned on the flashlight on his phone. “I swear one tiny breeze and this whole place will fall down.”

“Can you fix it?” Buck asked.

“Ordinarily I would be able to get it going again, however.. the electrics are in a separate building out back and..” he pointed to the window behind Buck. He turned around to see the blizzard raging outside.

“Jesus! Yeah you can’t go out in that.”

Tommy pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed again. “Okay. Here’s what we’re going to do.” He took the key to his room and held it out to Buck. “You go to my room, and I’ll lock up the place and meet you there in a minute.”

Buck looked at him with a hint of surprise on his face. “Y-your room?”

“The heat in all the rooms runs on electric—my room is the only one that also has a fireplace. So unless you want to freeze to death it’s the best place to be to keep warm.”

“Ri-right. That makes sense.” Buck conceded.

“First room outside.”

“You have a flashlight?” Buck asked.

“Can’t you use the one on your phone?”

“No, it’s in my room. And turned off.” Tommy analysed Buck for a second before brushing it away. “Okay. Hold on here for a second.”

Buck heard him moving around in back room for a minute before walking back out with an open backpack in his hands. He opened the fridge behind the counter and he heard the clinking of bottles being shoved inside it.

“God that snow is really getting heavy.” Buck said looking out the light the glass door. There was at last 2 or 3 inches on the ground and there was no signs of it letting up.

“Yeah. You ready?” Tommy asked.

“Yeah.”

Tommy opened the door letting Buck out and quickly closed and locked it. They both raised their forearms to shield their faces from the snow as walked quickly to Tommys door 10 or so feet away.

“You got the key?”

“Shit. Right, yeah.” Buck took it from his pocket and unlocked the door and they entered the room with Tommy shutting and locking it behind them.

“Hold on one second..” he said putting his backpack down and unzipping it. He removed a large pillar candle and a lighter from the bag and lit it. The room was subtly illuminated in a warm glow. It wasn’t enough to really get a good look at the room, but from what Buck could see it Tommy was definitely a tidy, squared away person. The bed was made with the same white linens as his own, save for a fleeced blanket folded at the bottom of the bed. There was the same night stands and dresser that he had in his room, except a much bigger, and more modern TV.

Tommy removed a bunch more candles from the bag, lit them and dotted them around the room.

“I would have thought a firefighter would recognise a fire hazard when he saw one.” Buck teased as he watched Tommy the candles.

“I won’t tell if you won’t.” He said back with that smirk that Buck was beginning to find quite pleasant.

“You’ve put me in a really good blackmailing position, you know?” Buck replied.

“Is that so?” Tommy said with a casual smoothness to his voice that Buck didn’t know what to make of. He sounded flirtatious which—no, he wasn’t flirting, right? That—he wasn’t against being flirted with. He liked flirting and he couldn’t deny that it always felt nice. He’d had guys flirt with him before and it wasn’t as if he were ever offended by it—he had a healthy confidence in his looks and was never short of flirtatious attention when he was on the job and in his turnouts, from any gender. He appreciated it and saw it as a compliment when men flirted with him, but he was never really in to it.

But with Tommy.. Buck was sort of in awe of him—he was just so effortlessly cool. He made Buck feel like the cool kids made him feel when he was at school—wanting to do something stupid to impress him. That would explain the feeling in deep in his stomach that had been growing since they’d been hanging out—he was just impressed by the man.

“What is it you want in return for your silence? I don’t have a lot of money, but I do make a mean chilli. Maybe I can bride you with food.”

Buck couldn’t help but smile. “I don’t think even you could do that in a blackout.”

Tommy laughed. “Well, obviously not right now. I was thinking maybe in a day or 2 when the storms gone and obviously when we have power back. Unless you’re going back to L.A soon?”

He looked at Buck in a way that Buck thought might be hopeful.

“Uh.. I don’t actually know when I’m going back to L.A. We were supposed to stay for another few days but.. my parents..” He sighed.

“Not great?” Tommy asked. He took the backpack to the sofa underneath the curtained window and pulled out a beer each and sat down, handing a bottle to Buck.

“Thanks. Uh, not really. They.. I thought.. they promised me they had changed; that they wanted to change. But they’re just the same people who will always be disappointed in me.” He drank down a few gulps of beer and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“What made them disappointed?”

“This time? That I went back to work after the lightning strike. Apparently an act of God was just more proof of how dangerous my job is and that it it’s stupid to risk my life everyday. The funny thing is they lavish Chimney with praise for doing the exact same job because he’s doing it to provide for their daughter and granddaughter—I don’t have a partner or kid so I’m just being the same old reckless Evan.” He rolled his eyes.

Buck instinctively went to apologise for rambling but quickly realised it actually felt good to get it out.

“That sounds really tough.”

“You have no idea. It’s ironic—they were never around for me or Maddie growing up; never there to guide us or help us make the right choices in life, and then they have the nerve to criticise the choices we did make. I-I thought that after what happened a few years ago that things would actually change. Guess I was wrong again.”

“What happened a few years ago, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Buck sat back on the sofa and turned a little to face Tommy. “I found out I had an older brother, Daniel. He had Leukaemia. None of the family were a match for him and so..” he gestured to himself “..so they made one. Except, the cells didn’t take and, uh.. he died.”

“God, Evan I’m so sorry.” Tommy said “that must have been.. I don’t even know.”

“Yeah. After that my parents packed up and moved us away; made Maddie swear to keep Daniel a secret. She was 9 years old, Tommy. What kind of parents force a nine year old to keep that kind of secret? The only reason I found out was because my parents had brought my sister her baby box when she was pregnant with my niece—unsurprisingly they never made one for me—and I found a picture of Daniel in there. Maddie couldn’t keep the secret any more and told me about him.”

He wiped away the tear that had escaped his eye without permission. “Although it finally made me understand why my parents had been distant with me my whole life—I was the living, breathing reminder of the death of the son they actually wanted.” He sniffed and drank some more beer.

Tommy’s hand, which was rested on the back of the sofa, moved to the back of Bucks neck. It was a gentle act of comfort, one that Buck wasn’t expecting. He felt a warmth spread around his body at the touch. He looked at Tommy who was looking back at him with a sad expression. His eyes really were quite beautiful.

Buck looked back down at his beer bottle as Tommy returned his hand to the back of the sofa.

“Seems shitty parents are another thing we have in common, kid.” Tommy said.

“What were yours like?”

“You know how people say that someone might be the father they never had? Well Gerrard was like the father I already had. Actually, Gerrard was a walk in the park compared to Pops.”

“Yeah?

Tommy nodded. “Thomas Kinard Senior had a very.. traditional idea of what it meant to be a man. One that he wasn’t afraid to beat into me. And that was before he found it I was gay. I think he truly thought it could beat the homosexuality out of me.” He laughed but it didn’t meet his eyes.

“I’m sorry, Tommy. God now I feel bad for complaining about my parents knowing you were beaten.”

Tommys hand went straight back to Bucks neck and he turned his body towards him more. “No, Evan—you have every right to feel how you feel about your parents. Your parents hurt you and that’s valid.”

Buck nodded, deciding not to argue. “What about your mom?”

“Mom was.. troubled. Part of me doesn’t blame her for staying with him—he beat her more than he beat me, but.. a part of me will always wonder how she could watch her husband beat her son and not step in, you know?”

“My sister was in an abusive marriage. She told me once that when you’re in it that you can’t believe that it’s happening. Maybe that’s why your mom stayed?” Buck offered. He wanted to offer more to comfort Tommy but he didn’t know what else to give him.

“I mean that makes sense. I’ll never know through.” He said and Buck looked at him confused. “She died about a year after my dad.”

Without thinking about it Buck reached out and put his hand on Tommy’s that was holding his beer. A fleeting look of surprise came over Tommy’s face before it softened and he placed his other hand over the top of Bucks.

“I don’t even know what to say other than I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to say anything, but I appreciate it, Evan.”

He’d barely known Tommy a couple of hours yet his heart hurt for him. He couldn’t help imagine him as a young kid on the receiving end of bruises instead of love.

He felt Tommys thumb brush along his hand and suddenly he became viscerally aware of his own pulse. Did it always throb this hard in his ears? Was it always this fast? And his lungs—why was he having to concentrate on breathing? Surely that’s supposed to be an automatic bodily function.

A strong gust of wind rattled the old windows surprising them both. They separated their hands and Buck felt a surprising pang of disappointment.

“Th-that the bathroom?” He pointed to the door on the other side of the bed.

“Uh, Yeah.”

Buck put his bottle down on the small coffee table in front of them and picked up one the candles to light his way. He locked the door behind him and leant against door.

This couldn’t be happening. Well, it could—it was a totally normal thing, but it had never happened to Buck before. Sure he’d checked out a hot guys ass here or there but this? Tommy? This felt like the beginnings of an actual crush and not just admiring someone’s attractive features. The ease with which he could talk about some of the worst things that he’d been through with him, the comfort he’d felt with Tommys hand in his skin, and the feeling of something being missing when Tommys hand left his were not things he’d expected.

After peeing and washing his hands he leant against the sink and looked at himself in the mirror. He’d half expected to see a change to his own reflection and was somehow both disappointed and relieved to see the same old face staring back at him.

He took a deep breath and opened the bathroom door to see Tommy lighting the fire, and the sound of soft music playing from Tommys phone on the coffee table.

“That Sinatra?” He asked.

“Yeah. I felt like putting on some music and he’s the only artist I have on my phone, currently.”

“You do know you can download more?” Buck said with soft sarcasm.

“Yes, Einstein. I just.. haven’t yet.” Tommy said back.

“Why Sinatra? You don’t strike me as a fan”

“No? What do I strike you as a fan of?”

“Dad rock.” Buck replied and that caused Tommy to bark out a laugh.

“Hey, there is nothing wrong with a little soft rock, thank you. But Sinatra reminds me of my aunt. When I was a kid she used to take me to this little community hall with her friends where they would dance. Fell a little in love with Sinatra, Dean Martin and that kinda stuff.”

Buck actually found that unbelievably endearing. “So you’re a dancer, huh?”

“I’m not an expert by any means but I know my way around a ballroom.”

“That’s more than I can do. Last time I danced—not including jumping around like an idiot in a club—was senior prom. And that only involved swaying.”

“I could teach you.” Tommy offered.

“Yeah? Would that be before or after your famous Chilli?” Buck asked.

“No time like the present.” Tommy suggested to Bucks surprise.

“Really?”

“We’re in a blackout with nothing else to do so why not?”

“O-okay.” He agreed. And suddenly he could feel his pulse again. Tommy came over and stood in front of him.

“At the risk of sounding disgustingly heteronormative, you’re going to be the woman in this scenario, okay?” He said and Buck simply nodded.

“Okay, so you’re going to put one hand here -“ he took Bucks left hand and placed it on his waist. “-and the other I’ll hold here.” He held Bucks right hand in the air while his other went around bucks shoulder to his back. He looked down at the space in between them at their feet. “Just mirror what I’m doing with my feet.”

He began swaying gently and moving his feet in slow sequence with the rhythm of the music. Buck kept his head down watching Tommys feet trying to mirror his movements. Occasionally he would move his feet out of sync with Tommys, and each time a wave of embarrassment flushed through him.

“You’re doing good.” Tommy said and a burst of excitement exploded in his stomach at hearing the praise. Slowly Buck committed the steps to memory and looked up with pride at Tommy who was smiling softly at him.

“I gotta say you’re picking it up quicker than I did.” He confessed.

“Yeah?”

“I mean in my defence I was eight.” He said and Buck couldn’t help but laugh.

“Well you’re a good teacher. Maybe you missed your calling.”

“You think?” Tommy

“I’m sure there would be plenty of people who would pay to have you throw them around a ballroom.”

“Huh.” Tommy said. “Like this?” He moved his hand down to the small of Bucks back and quickly bent him down into a dip before bringing him back up again; their chests coming together.

“Holy shit!” Buck looked at Tommy entirely mesmerised. His stomach hadn’t got a clue what was happening. Neither did his brain. “That was.. wow.”

Tommy laughed at Bucks reaction.

“Impressive, no?” He teased.

“Uh.. ye-yeah.”

“How about this?” Without giving him time to think he lifted up the arm that had the hand holding Bucks and swung it around with just enough force behind it to spin him around before catching him perfectly in the same position as before. Bucks mouth opened in shock but no words came out.

He was utterly mesmerised.

Tommy just softly laughed. “Okay, no more surprise moves for now.” He said and continued their previous steps. Buck was moving his feet without even thinking about it. He had no idea if he was moving his feet correctly—he was far too distracted by Tommy looking at him.

“I have to say I wasn’t expecting the day to end like this when I got on a plane this morning.”

“You mean you didn’t foresee getting a dancing lesson from a-what was it you called me? Ah, yes—a hot firefighter.” Tommy’s lips slid into another smirk. Buck dipped his head bashfully and looked back up at him, shaking his head at his own embarrassment.

“You’re adorable.” Tommy said and Buck literally felt his heart skip a full beat.

“You’re loving this aren’t you?” Buck asked trying and failing to suppress an embarrassed smile.

“Little bit.” Tommy smiled back. Buck sighed and let his forehead fall onto Tommys shoulder. The hand that was on his back slid upwards and the next thing he felt was Tommys fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck. He shivered and blew out a breath; failing miserably at hiding how shaky it came out. He lifted his head back up at met Tommys gaze.

His eyes were glued to Tommy’s, until they quickly darted to his lips. Buck was helpless as to stop himself from doing the same thing.

And then..

And then Tommys lips were on his.

It was so unbelievably soft and gentle; a complete contrast to his hulking physique. Neither of their lips were moving but it didn’t stop Bucks entire brain framework from short circuiting.

Tommy slowly pulled away, opening his eyes to see Buck staring at him heavy lidded and his mouth open.

“Was that okay?” He asked, his voice barely above a whisper. Buck willed his vocal cords to answer but they couldn’t. He was just so overwhelmed with far too many feelings that any human should reasonably have to deal with in a given moment. He responded in the only way that he was capable of.

And kissed Tommy back.

The kiss was more desperate than the one Tommy had given him and he pushed his lips into Tommy’s deeply. Tommy hummed in surprise but immediately pushed back into the kiss. He held on to the side of Bucks neck; his thumb on the hinge of his jaw as his other hand held him by the waist to his own body.

Almost immediately Buck opened his mouth to allow Tommy access and the first brush of Tommys tongue against his bottom lip sent an electric current through his entire body. His hands, that were gripping on to Tommys shirt tightly, slid up to his neck, holding him tightly in place. He’d pull him closer into his mouth if he could.

His mouth was warm and wet and tasting of beer and Buck couldn’t get enough. He was frantically trying to breath through his nose, not wanting to part his lips from Tommys even for a second to breath.

It was ridiculous. Utterly, utterly ridiculous. Never in his life had he ever thought about kissing another man and yet here he was doing exactly that and it felt-

Right.

His lips slotting between Tommy’s like the missing piece of the jigsaw, that was his whole self, being slotted into place. His whole life he’d felt like there was a puzzle to complete but it came without instructions or a finished image to give him a clue as to how to complete it. He’d gone to so many places; done so many things in an attempt to figure it out.. Yet here it was—the missing piece of the puzzle and it came in the form of a beautiful man named Tommy Kinard.

Buck hadn’t particularly articulated all of this to himself—that would come later—but all he knew; all he felt was wanting. He wanted Tommy. In any way that he would allow Buck to have him.

In an act of instinct that his brain wasn’t involved in he pressed his hips forward into Tommy’s. They both moaned at the touch and Buck went from half hard to fully engorged at the feel of Tommy’s erection against his. Tommy—grabbing his ass with one hand; the other on Bucks face—deepened the kiss.

Buck could barely breathe from the overwhelm of heat flowing into every inch of his body. His nerves were on edge with thrill and anticipation as they ground their hips together.

Tommy’s lips moved along Bucks jaw, down his neck and he sucked delicately at his collarbone. Bucks head tilted to the side and he breathed loudly outwards.

“Shit…Tommy..”

Tommy hummed at the sound of Bucks exclamation and grabbed his ass harder, pushing his groin into Buck. Buck needed to taste him again and dipped his head, catching Tommy’s lips with his own. God, Tommys lips were perfect! They moved wondrously, with the perfect amount of pressure. His tongue was deft and purposeful in its movements and tasted like heaven.

He almost cried when Tommy gently pulled away. He held bucks face in his hands and rested their foreheads together.

“Evan..” he said breathy “we should st-“

“No.” Buck interrupted. He pulled his head back to look at Tommy. “I don’t want to. I.. I want you.” Tommy swallowed, looked down at Bucks lips then back up to his eyes.

“Are you sure?” He whispered.

And once again Buck answered without words. This time however, having more confidence, he took his time. He slowly ran his hand along Tommys jaw, gripping him lightly with a thumb against the hinge and pressed his lips into Tommy’s.

A shiver went through him as the palms of Tommys hands pressed against his shoulder blades, holding him tightly to his chest. Being held by someone as big as Tommy was illuminatingly wonderful. For the first time in a long time Buck felt safe.

Buck was radiating enough heat that he feared he might actually melt into a puddle. He unzipped the hoodie he was wearing and let it fall to the floor before peeling Tommys open shirt over his shoulders and dropping it to the floor too. He immediately pulled at the hem of his undershirt and Tommy raised his arms allowing Buck to remove it. Tommy pressed another kiss onto Bucks lips then pulled off his T-shirt.

Tommy went straight for Bucks neck again and goosebumps exploded all over his skin. His hands pressed against Tommy’s chest—his finger tips caressing the smattering of hair along Tommys skin. This was something overwhelmingly new and unexpectedly exciting for Buck. Lack of breasts was one thing, but the feeling of chest hair under his fingers was surprisingly turning him on.

They migrated towards the bed with Buck getting on first and pulling Tommy on top of him without even breaking the kiss. And holy shit he never knew that having the weight of someone near enough the same weight as him—perhaps a little heavier—would feel so good!

Both of their hands were all over every inch of skin they could get too. Caressing and stroking and rubbing and kissing—no inch of bare skin was left untouched.

Buck trailed wet open-mouthed kiss along Tommy’s throat; his tongue licking into every one of them. Tommy was breathing heavily into it and Buck felt awash with pride and self satisfaction. He had game when it came to women—he knew what buttons to press to turn them on, but there was something extra exhilarating about turning on this man on top of him.

And he was a man. Buck was quickly beginning to realise that what was turning him on the most was Tommy’s masculinity. His weight, his breadth, his body hair, even the stubble on his chin that was burning into Bucks skin was addicting. And his large hands gripping onto his shoulders and chest and waist and oh god his neck!

Tommys hand slowly caressed down his torso and lower stomach and when it reached his waistband Buck sucked in an anticipatory breath. Tommys fingers gripped the elastic. He lifted his head to meet Bucks eyes.

“Is it okay to take these off?” His eyes were blown and his lips kiss-swollen and Buck thought it was the hottest he’d ever seen anybody ever look.

“Y-yes.” His voice came out throaty and strained. Tommy smiled and kissed him again before lifting himself off of Buck. He moved down the bed and Buck lifted up his hips to allow Tommy to slowly pull them down and off, throwing them somewhere across the room.

His eyes roamed over the large bulge in Bucks underwear before they moved back up to Bucks eyes. For the first time since this started he felt an element of self-consciousness. Tommy seemed to sense this and made his way back up towards Bucks face and kissed him gently. Bucks self-consciousness immediately melted away.

“Do you want me to take mine off?” Tommy whispered.

“Definitely.” Buck replied with a heavy breath. Within seconds Tommy’s jeans were thrown to the floor. He laid back down on his side, pulling Buck in to face him. They kissed deeply as their legs tangled together and hands continued exploring each other.

Buck was lightheaded. His brain was having trouble reconciling the array of physical sensations and feelings he was experiencing all at once. Especially the feeling of Tommy’s underwear covered cock pushing against his own. He couldn’t help the whine that escaped his mouth as Tommy jerked his hips towards his; could feel himself leaking at the touch as they rutted against each other.

“God, Evan.” Tommy moaned into Bucks mouth and oh god that was unbelievably hot! His finger tips slid into the back of Bucks underwear, grasping at his ass and pulling him even closer. Buck grunted in response.

Tommy’s lips grazed Buck’s ear as he whispered into it.

“What do you want, baby?” And Jesus that pet name almost broke him in two.

“To-touch me.” He couldn’t hide the pleading in tone. Tommy groaned at Bucks reply, kissing him again. His hands gently held Bucks face as he lifted himself back on top of him but not putting down his whole weight. Buck bucked his hips up in search for the friction he’d become addicted to.

“I got you, baby.”

There it was again: Baby. He’d been called pet names before but fuck this felt different. The juxtaposition between Tommys sheer size and masculinity and the softness of his words was wondrous.

Tommy continued kissing Buck beautifully whilst letting his hands slowly travel down Bucks body and his hand dipped inside the fabric of his boxers.

The moment Buck felt Tommy’s warm hand gently caress his throbbing length he couldn’t hold in his response. “Fuck!” He felt Tommy smile against his lips. His thumb lightly caressed the slit collecting Bucks pre-come and Buck’s body vibrated at the feel. Tommy lifted his face up from Bucks a few inches to watch him as he slid his hand back down Bucks cock, then slowly up again; squeezing just the right amount to drive Buck almost to insanity.

Buck began panting and grasping onto any part of Tommy he could reach in a fruitless attempt to steady himself. Tommy kept eye contact with him while he worked his cock faster and Buck wasn’t sure which was turning him on more.

Eventually Buck involuntarily scrunched his eyes shut as his head threw itself back onto the pillow. “Oh.. g-god..fu-Tommy, I.. it’s.. fuck!” He was babbling; unable to form a coherent sentence. Every synapse, every vein, every inch of his skin was on fire.

“You’re doing so good, baby.” Tommy said throaty and low.

“Fuck!” His hips bucked up into Tommys hand faster, chasing the edge of the cliff he was desperate to fall over.

On the next up stroke Tommys hand left Buck and for a moment he felt an overwhelming disappointment at the lack of touch. He lifted his head up to see why Tommy had stopped only to see him setting free his own cock. Buck sharply inhaled at the sight of his flushed and swollen dick, and desperately wanted to wrap his fingers around it. Before he got the chance however Tommy took him by surprise by taking them both in his hand, moaning loudly at the first slide of his hand.

Buck was certain that his heart was mere seconds from giving out as Tommys quickly caught up to the rhythm he had going before.

“Holy shit!” Buck cried out and yanked Tommys head down to kiss him. This one was unbelievably filthy; Buck having absolutely no composure left. “Oh god..” he pulled apart trying desperately to breathe.

“Evan..” Tommy moaned and the second it hit Bucks ears he was done for.

“Shit! Shit..shit.. ah.. fuck!” Sparks behind his eyelids exploded into a kaleidoscope of colour and every muscle in his body tensed as he came harder than he had ever done. In the middle of it shooting all over his chest, he felt Tommy’s body shaking and tensing before he shoved his lips hard into Buck’s, kissing him as he realised his own load.

“Fuck, Evan!” He moaned into Bucks mouth as their collective orgasms slowly petered out. He shoved his face into the crook of Bucks neck as they both tried to catch their breath.

Eventually their breathing slowed and Tommy lifted his head back to look at him. Bucks face was a mixture of blissed out and mesmerised.

“Are you okay?” Tommy asked softly. He raised his hand and gently rearranged an errant curl that had fallen onto Bucks forehead. It was such a simple act of care but after the overwhelming feelings, both physical and emotional, it was enough to push Buck over the edge and his eyes quickly welled up with a tear escaping and running down his temple towards the pillow.

Tommys face morphed into concern. “Hey, what’s wrong? Was that too much?” He lifted himself from Buck and laid on his side, resting on his elbow, looking down at Buck.

“N-no..” Buck replied, his voice wrecked “it’s not.. I..” His breath hitched as he tried to keep more emotion at bay “that was.. new. And.. and a lot. I-I just..” He blew out a breath to try to calm himself. “It’s just a little over-overwhelming, that’s all.” Tommy continued looking at him with concern.

Bucks lifted a still shaking hand to Tommy’s face to reassure him. “I’m okay.” Tommy put his hand on top of his and Buck leaned up and placed a long and delicate kiss to his lips. He gently leant back, with Tommys mouth following him. Their lips moved slowly and softly; no heat or tongue involved—just two people relishing the soft moment.

“We should clean up.” Tommy said after a few minutes. Buck shifted to get up and Tommy put a hand on his shoulder to stop him. “No—wait here.” He walked over to the bathroom and wetted a towel and returned, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Is it okay if I wipe you down?” He asked. Buck simply nodded having lost the ability to speak at the care that Tommy was showing him. He’d never been with anybody who so consistently checked in with him when he was with somebody long term, let alone a someone he’d only spent a few hours with.

Tommy finished cleaning Buck then pulled his boxers back up, fondly tapping his hip as a little flourish at the end of the job. He threw the towel back into the bathroom and laid back down on the bed, lifting his arm up. “C’mere.” He said and Buck didn’t hesitate to slide his body over and rested his head on Tommy’s chest.

It was different being the one to cuddle into someone’s chest—usually he was the one with his arm around his partner. But as new as it was, it felt good; calming. He couldn’t help but swirl circles into Tommys chest hair either his finger; the novelty of sleeping with someone that had it had not left him yet.

Tommys hand was lightly running through Bucks curls and he couldn’t help but let his eyes flutter closed at the feel. He sighed contentedly and Tommy placed a kiss onto the top of his head. He couldn’t help but smile into Tommys skin as his consciousness slowly slipped away.

*

Buck sighed heavily as he woke up. He kept his eyes closed as his brain came back online. He was warm and cosy wrapped up in the thick blanket. Slowly his eyes blinked open and at seeing the room he was in, the memories of the previous night came flooding back.

But Tommy wasn’t there. The room was empty. Buck laid back staring at the ceiling remembering what happened between them. A flush came over him as he remembered the feeling of Tommys lips on his; his hands all over his body, and his voice! That molasses-infused voice praising him was otherworldly.

What did all of this mean for him? He was never afraid of new sexual experiences—hell he relished them—and he wasn’t ashamed of the fact that this one involved a man. More than anything it was surprising. He knew that plenty of people discover things about their sexuality later in life, but could you really go 33 years without a single clue?

He tried searching through his memories to find some kind of clue that maybe there was something that stood out. There was that one time in Texas with a firefighter named TK; he’d thought Buck was asking him out, and Buck was quick to deny that that was what he was doing, but.. It’s no secret that he had a thing for competency, and he worked side by side with TK; saw just how good he was at his job. Maybe he was attracted to him?

Before he had a chance to think more, the door opened and Tommy walked in holding 2 cups of coffee; with a brown paper bag held in his teeth.

Bucks stomach swooped and flipped at seeing him. He walked over to Buck reaching out of the cups for him to take, before removing the bag from his mouth.

“You hungry?” He said, placing his own coffee on the nightstand and sat on the edge of the bed by Bucks hips.

“You-you brought me breakfast?” Buck asked in surprise. Tommy smiled and Buck felt his heart rate increase.

“What kind of gentleman would I be if I didn’t?” Tommy said it so plainly; so as a matter of fact as though not doing it wasn’t even an option.

“Th-thanks.”

Tommy tentatively leaned down and pressed his lips to Bucks. Just a quick chaste kiss, but one that Buck pressed into. Tommy smiled again as he released Bucks lips and sat back up. Buck took a sip of the coffee and hummed pleasantly.

“I didn’t know how you take it, so I took a guess.”

“Good guess.” Buck told him happily.

“I figured your coffee would resemble you: strong bodied and super sweet.” Buck couldn’t hide the blush that spread across his cheeks and smiled back at him.

“I take it the snow has let up?” He asked trying to change the subject away from Tommy trying to actually kill him with compliments.

“Yeah, a little. Enough that I could get my truck out to get food. Still no power though. But the local radio said half the towns power is out.”

“Shit, really? I should probably check on Maddie.”

Tommy pulled his phone from his pocket and held it out to him. “Here. If you wanna call her.”

“Oh, I don’t actually know her number.” Buck admitted. Tommy raised an eyebrow.

“You’re a first responder—you know how important it is to remember energy contact details.”

“Says the guy who created a fire hazard last night?” Buck teased back. Tommy opened his mouth to respond by quickly closed it. “Exactly.” Buck smiled.

“Well, I have Howie’s number anyway if you want to call him. You said he was here, right?”

“Uh, yeah. Thanks.” He took the phone and pulled up Chim’s number.

“Tommy? Long time no-“

“Uh, actually it’s Buck.”

“Buck? What.. why do you have Tommy’s phone?“

“Because I’m with him.” Buck informed him.

“You’re with-wait, wait, wait—did you go back home?!”

“No, uh, he’s here in Hershey.”

“Tommy’s here in Hershey?” Chim repeated.

“Yes,”

“Why the hell is Tommy in Hershey?”

“It’s doesn’t matter, Chim. Look, I just wanted to check in on you, my sister and Jee with the blackout.”

“We’re fine. Well, aside from your sister freaking out about not being able to contact you. She’s really having a hard time, Buck.”

Buck sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I know and I’m sorry I scared her—I just needed to get away from them.”

“Hey, I get it—I’ve witnessed enough of Philip and Margaret’s antics, but you really should have talked to her.”

“I couldn’t, Chim.” His began to raise his voice. “She was the one who convinced me to come. And I know she didn’t know what they’d be like, and it’s not her fault, and i know it’s irrational, okay, but-but i needed to get away from her, too, to cool off.”

Tommy put his hand on Bucks leg and gave him a gentle reassuring squeeze. Immediately Buck anger began to dissipate as he looked at Tommy’s soft, reassuring expression.

He kept eye contact with Tommy as he spoke into the phone. “Chim, I have to go. Tell Maddie I’ll be back later and we’ll talk, okay?”

“Okay, but-“

Buck ended the call, threw the phone onto the nightstand and leaned forward, grabbing Tommy at the back of the neck to pull him in for a searing kiss.

Tommy willingly leant into it and held onto Bucks face; his thumb gently grazing his cheek. The kiss quickly slowed down into a soft and deep one. Buck was—god how did he not know it could feel like this? Tommys lips and tongue were perfect. He could do this forever.

But that begged the question: what now? Tommy was here in Hershey to sell the motel—who knows how long that will take. And when he’s back in L.A would he want to see Buck again? Buck couldn’t pretend for a moment even to himself that he didn’t want to see Tommy again. He’d some managed to slide himself into the space between Bucks organs and it filled him with warmth and excitement.

He gently released the kiss and rested his forehead against Tommy’s. They both just breathed each other in with closed eyes.

“Can I ask you something?” Buck asked quietly.

“Anything.” Tommy replied piling back to look at him. That smile was killing Buck from the inside out.

“What happens now? I-I mean.. obviously I have to go back to L.A in a few days and you.. you’re here and-and I don’t.. I don’t want to not see you.” He looked down, embarrassed at the confession. Tommy tilted his chin back up with two fingers.

“I don’t know what happens next. I don’t know how long it’s going to take to sell this place. I don’t expect this; expect you. But I don’t want to not see you either.”

Bucks felt every atom in his body shift and vibrate and he could stop the grin.

***

He was quiet on the journey to the airport, during check in, waiting to board and the first half of the flight. Eventually Maddie approached the subject.

“You okay?”

“Do you believe in love at first sight?” He asked.

“Um, no. But, I do believe that some people come into your life that you’re feel an immediate connection with.” She looked at Chimney who was sat across the aisle in the middle row playing with Jee-Yun. “Wait, have you met someone.”

“Tommy.” He said.

“Tommy the-wow!”

“What, wow?” Buck questioned looking at her.

“No, not wow. I mean like.. wow.. I didn’t think that’s where your interest would lie.”

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

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

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

“It’s not abnormal.”

“But Tommy.. I dunno, he’s so confident, he’s interesting; he has a cleft..” A feeling of disappointment came over him that he didn’t kiss Tommy’s cleft when he had the chance.

“And you think you’re in love with him?” she asked.

“I.. I don’t know. Ive never.. I’ve never felt like this, Maddie. It’s like.. the way he looks at me I feel like-calm, you know? Being with him made me feel like all the bad shit that has ever happened to me didn’t matter. I have this feeling in my stomach like he’s been carved into it. I know, I know I sound like an idiot..” he sat back in his seat, sighing.

He did sound like an idiot—he’d known the man a few days—how the hell could he be in love with him?! If it even is love.. maybe it’s just infatuation.

“Buck, you’ve been through a lot on your life—more than most. And all I want for you—all I’ve ever wanted for you is to be happy. Does Tommy make you happy?”

“I mean.. yeah. But, we barely know each other. What if he comes back to L.A—if he ever comes back—and it’s not what I want it to be?”

“I can’t tell you if it’ll work out, and maybe it won’t. But maybe it will. Maybe it’ll be the best decision you ever make. After Doug I was terrified of taking a chance with Chim. But i knew there was something between us and I took that chance and now we’re married, with a beautiful daughter and I couldn’t imagine my life with anybody else.”

“I’m glad you’re happy, Maddie. I’ve always wanted that for you too, you know.”

“I know. Look, the question you have to ask yourself is: Is Tommy worth the risk?”

Buck relaxed into his seat and stared out of the plane window at the clouds below him, contemplating Maddies question.

*

After collecting his Jeep from Maddies house he made his way through town to his apartment. He pulled his bag out of the trunk and heavily made his way into the building, thinking about this last conversation with Tommy.

Buck walked into the motel foyer solemnly. This was the last time for a potentially long while that he would be able to see Tommy. They’d only met 3 days ago and yet he’d somehow rooted himself inside Bucks consciousness.

“Hey you.” Tommy greeted walking out from the back room.

“Hey.” He said trying to force a smile.

“You heading home?” Tommy asked coming closer and sliding hands around Bucks waist. Buck naturally let his arms rest around Tommys shoulders.

Buck nodded. “They’re in car waiting for me.”

“Oh, well don’t let me keep you.” He moved to release Buck who held on tighter.

“What if I wanted you to keep me?” There was a small smirk to his mouth. Tommy gripped him tighter and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips.

“Hmm, now that is tempting..”

Buck took him in another kiss; this one deeper and open mouthed. As their lips and tongues met Bucks mind went blank to everything—Tommy being all he could focus on. He gripped Tommys body tighter and shoved his head into the crook of his neck. Tommy hand came up to stroke the hair on the back of his head.

“I-I can’t believe I have to leave you.” He mumbled into Tommys neck.

“I hate it, too, baby.” He replied and Bucks insides turned to goo again at the pet name. He would stand like this forever if he could but the car horn that blasted from outside. They pulled apart a few inches and Tommy lightly held Bucks face as he kissed him in the softest way; one Buck had never been in the receiving end before. He rested his head against Bucks.

“We’ll see each other again soon, I promise.” He whispered.

“How do you know that?”

“Because how could anybody let someone like you go?”

Buck had to use everything inside of him to not burst into tears at hearing those words. He thrust himself forwards subjecting Tommy to a crushing hug.

“Oomph” Tommy chuckled.

After a few more hugs and not nearly enough kissing, Buck reluctantly left Tommy.

He left the elevator and walked along the corridor towards his apartment. As he turned the corner he stopped dead in his tracks. His bag fell to the ground from his hands, his throat dried up, his heart throbbed in his chest and tears threatened to escape his eyes.

Leaning against his door, with those blue eyes, and that smile that created those beautiful lines around his face, was Tommy.

“Hey, sweetheart.” he simply said. The tears came from Buck as he hurtled forward and crashed his lips into Tommy’s. Somehow having Tommy here now made him feel more at home.

“What are you.. how did you.. I can’t believe.” Buck has so many questions and tries to ask them in between kisses.

“Perks of being a pilot.” He answered. Buck pulled his head back and looked at him.

“You-you flew all the way here?”

“It was the quickest way to get to you.” And oh my god if he wasn’t in love with Tommy already, he would be soon if he kept saying things like that.

“What about the motel?”

“Well..” Tommy said in between kissed to Bucks temple and cheek. “I don’t actually have to keep it open while looking for a buyer. Plus, I fucking hate running a motel.”

Buck couldn’t help but laugh.

“So, are you going to invite me in, or..?” He asked running his hands along Bucks shoulders.

“Oh.” Buck said, a little embarrassed he’d forgotten they were still standing in the corridor. “Of course.” He picked up his bag and unlocked the door letting Tommy in first. Tommy walked through the kitchen looking around at his surroundings as Buck closed and locked the door.

He stood for a moment just looking at Tommy. He still didn’t know if what he was feeling was love, but wherever it was, he was going to welcome it.

Risk it.

Tommy turned around to look at Buck the other side of the kitchen.

“C’mere.”

[http-paprika]

BLUE / simon riley

my very, very late submission for @glitterypirateduck simon "ghost" riley challenge. this was heavily inspired by the new billie eilish song of the same title because I thought it fit him so well. i used the prompts "face touching", "the heat goes out and it's freezing", and "a confession is made"

simon ghost riley x female reader / 1106 words / contains angst, alcohol, and smoking

WITH every patron that hurried into the bar, cold and snow blew in with them—leaving those even in the darkest corners of the bar chilled and draining down more liquor. The drink spilled through her veins, warm and potent as she waited another hour, shrunk away in the shadows with her cost pulled tight. Simon wasn't coming, she knew better than to keep waiting for him. 

 Finishing her glass of whiskey, she lets it sting her throat the same way the tears in her eyes did. With remorse, she sets the glass down and rises from her chair. Through the crowded bar of happy couples and friends, someone's celebrating a birthday, another girl is sobbing in the corner with her friends trying their best to comfort her. The whole room pulses with life, feelings, love, and hate and she can't seem to find herself amongst the crush of emotions. Dull, apathetic, and removed as she slinks out of the door and into the blue moon night. 

 Winter still holds a fierce grip over Manchester, spilling white flurries in the air as she walks down the quiet streets with a cigarette to warm her from the cold. If he were there, they'd be sharing the smoke and she'd be warmed by the blushed haze that always befell her when their hands brushed exchanging the cigarette. 

 Her hand fumbles with her phone, the bright, blue light warning her of how late it was. But even with the early shift she had in the morning, she loiters along her route imagining he’ll be waiting by her flat like Simon would sometimes do. Giving her the delusion that he cared enough to come looking for her, even if he couldn't be bothered to grab drinks with her. 

 Despite all logic telling her not to bother with a call, she finds the number that she's left a hundred voicemails for. Sounding desperate and pathetic with every call as she tries to convince him into calling her back. 

 “Hi, Simon. It's me… again. I'm just calling to check in, I haven't heard from you in a week and I just want to make sure you're alright. Okay, I'm going to go, I'm at my flat. Call me, please.” The sound of the voicemail being replayed causes her to cringe, maybe he'd never hear it like he never hears the rest. Maybe he's got a new number, that was the type of thing someone as shifty as Simon would do. But she can't find reason in his sudden absence, no foreseen notice of a deployment or mission. No text to tell her he'd be unavailable. Nothing. 

 When she rounds the gate into her apartment complex, she can see in the low light of the second-floor walk, the lone figure waiting in front of her door even though he had the keys. Burly hands shoved into the worn pockets of his jacket with head tilted down as she climbed the stairs to join him. 

 She didn't need to see Simon’s face to know that he was thinking. Always thinking about the past he refused to tell her about. One that she could only dream up, trying to picture what had happened to turn him into the man he was. The man who she desperately tried to get over, but couldn't move on from. 

“I waited for you. It's the third Wednesday of the month, or did you just forget?” She asks, stubbing out the cigarette on the melt railing. The frame creaks as her fist tightens around it in frustration. “Simon?” 

 “Was busy with work, forgot to call.” He shrugs, pushing his hood back and shaking out his dark blond curls. A rough, wartorn face that she'd memorized like the back of her hand. It was so enticing to her, mesmerizing with his pale lashes and dark haunted eyes. The type of man that kept her safe at the bar and kept her up at night in stress. 

 “You're always busy.” She holds back a scoff, knowing arguing never got anywhere with Simon. He'd go silent with every accusation she'd throw, leaving her intimidated and guilty for yelling. Even if she knew he deserved it. 

 “It can't be helped. Times are tough.” Simon responds, his eyes trailing over her as she moves to unlock the flat. Fumbling with the lock like she did with the phone until his hand reached out and steadied her grasp. He leads her into the apartment like it was his own, with an empty place on the coat rack for his jacket, and a spot next to all of her shoes for his boots. An indent left throughout her home for whenever he'd find it in him to return.

 “Would you like a drink?” She asks, still feeling the need to play hostess as if he were a stranger visiting for the first time. At the edge of her seat waiting expectantly for a response and reaction. 

 “Sure.” He shrugs, pulling off the cloth mask as she shuffles into the small kitchen. Tiny enough that when he joins her there's tension as she tries not to bump into him. Pretending like she wasn't up the night before craving the warmth he gave, the firm touch of his hands, when her space heater died. 

 “I am sorry, love. I'll be there next time, I promise.” Simon apologizes, watching as avoids his presence like the plague. She chewed the inside of her cheek, knowing that she'd accept this apology like she'd done before. Knowing full well he never changed, and she’d never ask him to. 

 He reached out, sensing her indifference, and cupped her cheek in his calloused hands. That touch always turned her into mush, clay for him to mold to his will and whims. She knew it was pathetic how easily she swayed for him, knew that her friends always criticized her for being so weak-willed. But how could she possibly say no to him when he always came back, even if it was days late? Wasn’t she better off with him than trying to find someone else to love, wasn’t the heartache worth it? 

“You could do so much better than me, sweet girl. Sometimes I wish you would.” Simon confesses, his voice low and full of regrets. He turns his head down towards her, wrapping her close in his arms, taking the glass of water out of her hand, and setting it down. 

Her mouth opens to speak, but no words form when she realizes she’s just as guilty as him. She’d never change, he’d never change. Together, they’d stay unmoving, frozen in the longest, blue winter.

[mirrormazeworld]

Rough Notes : Crowley, The Great Seven, and Maleficent's blessing

I think Crowley really is using "Maleficent's blessing" for Yuu. And what I'm talking about here is the blessing from the real Maleficent that's trapped in the mirror, not Malleus's UM (no, it's not Meleanor who is trapped in the mirror, and I can explain that)

Reasons why the one in the mirror isn't Meleanor but the real Maleficent:

1. If you increase the brightness of the pic, the sleeve with the hand that's reflected in the dark mirror is Maleficent's and not Meleanor's, because Meleanor's sleeve is puffy in her design

2. I'll use a comparison to NBC. In NBC, thir most treasured magical item is the Bell of Salvation which relates to Frollo and NBC students praise him in high regards the same way as how NRC students with great 7 that NBC built his statue and their curriculum revolves around him. In NRC, we know NRC has Dark Mirror as their most treasured magical item. However, there are great 7 as the figures being praised in high regards by NRC. Dark Mirror is based on Snow White Magic Mirror and it's said the talking face of the magic mirror is the soul trapped inside.

So by the logic and comparing NRC to NBC, if the school's treasured magical item is related to the statue as well, what if the Dark Mirror actually has the soul of the real Great 7 trapped inside it?

There is no evidence that he is Levan and the one inside the dark mirror is Meleanor. But we all know that Crowley is a Great Seven fanboy and it's canon.

Supposed twst is a dream world created from the real Maleficent's blessing, the symptoms of what Yuu experienced is similar to what we see in Lilia at the latest chapter of Diasomnia.The more Yuu remember, the more they go through the dream defeating the overblotters with the soul of the Great Seven, the closer they're about to wake up, the more frequent their headache is.

And most importantly, the blessing can also be triggered if you take his hand. Very much similar to the prologue where we take Crowley's hand.

(By the way, it's just rough notes so that I won't forget, not a full theory. There are many complicated and intricate things I'll need to add but I still don't have enough energy to do that yet)

[lightningidle]

A thought about Gerard’s scene in Episode 18, which is: Elody watches the conversation between Gerard and Rapunzel.

                                                    ——————

Princess Elody is a tactical motherfucker, so even when these cool young women approach her and say all the right things, things that make sense, she doesn’t fully buy in. Not at face value.

When they talk about princes, it’s somehow both completely flippant and with caustic derision — like these young men were props meant to move the plot along, sole owners of agency in stories that weren’t even titled after them. (Elody wonders about their treatment of the princes as the fairies’ deux es machina, wonders about how easy it is to “kill a lot of princes” as Snow White explains. And by their own logic, how likely is it, really, that the princes are cardboard cutouts if Cinderella is so sure her stepmother, not even royalty, has her own book?)

There’s evidence to the contrary of this in her story specifically, which she has no trouble recounting. There’s no way her prince was meant to pacify her into an idyllic life, because he’s a layabout! He’s unreliable! And sure, he’s charming and fun, yes, he tried to pull her away from the war table, but that wasn’t because of any scheming to get her to stay in line, it was just because he wanted attention. He’s frivolous, he’s not a monster, she says. She’s so passionate in her defense of Gerard’s personhood that she almost misses the shared look of the princesses, the glint in Rapunzel’s eye.

Let us show you, Rapunzel says, what a monster looks like.

The scrying ritual is completed quickly and without fuss. Rapunzel stares into a mirror that ripples like water, and then, on the other side, there he is. More froglike than he’s ever been.

“You’re a prince, friends are probably pretty expendable, right? How many friends have you really had, other than Elody?”

Now hold on, Elody wants to say, that’s goading him. That’s not fair. Cinderella puts a firm hand on her shoulder and shakes her head no, to stay quiet, to wait it out. Elody bites her tongue and waits for Gerard to prove one of them right.

“Your friends seem to really value you as a person. I’m sure it’s a comfort to know that they’re not just sort of putting up with you because you’ll tag along and swing your sword, prove a little bit useful.”

Gerard has snowball fights with his friends. He has friends? He has a dedicated workout buddy? She’s not sure he’s ever been dedicated to anything, except for gossip... or her. Now that she thinks about it, he has always been unquestionably devoted to her, hasn’t he?

“I have seen some titanic feats of strength from my companions the Beast, Cinderella, Snow White. Truly impressive acts of heroism.

I do not think I have seen any of my sisters strain more greatly than the Princess Elody to find something kind to say about you.”

Elody does open her mouth to speak this time, which turns out to be a huge mistake when a writhing mass of knotted hair wraps around the lower half of her face. Not to constrict, only to silence. A pit forms in her stomach at the thought that Rapunzel might not be lying, that in trying to defend Gerard she only condemned the worst of him.

“Yes... I don’t... I don’t doubt that.”

Her heart breaks for the second time.

“But I haven't seen the Princess Elody in a while, and I think it's telling that I'm seeing you in this lake and not her or any of the other princesses. I think you’re... manipulating people, or not telling them the full truth.”

Her eyes dart to the other princesses. Snow White’s expression remains unchanged, though Cinderella’s darkens slightly. When Rapunzel speaks again, it does not escape Elody’s notice that she doesn’t acknowledge what Gerard pointed out; she deflects. Elody is getting angrier, now, tugging at the hair around her jaw, hardly even hearing the next bit until a third voice speaks up, says the Princess Elody cares for you deeply.

“Not quite the same thing.”

“It's not, but seeing as the last thing she saw of me was me running away after I had already done that, I’m grateful that she still cares for me at all.”

The hair gathering around her tenses. Elody was brought here to see that, when Gerard thought nobody else could hear, he would prove himself to be just an agent of the fairies, or an empty vessel, or a selfish monster. What she’s seeing is none of those things. But she’s also not seeing the man she knew as her husband: he’s grown and changed, almost become someone else entirely. She wants to call out to Gerard. She wants to get to know him all over again.

“Gerard,” Rapunzel hisses, “what do you think the odds are that it got into Elody's head that the virtuous thing to do was to fall in love with a cold and slimy frog, and that every kindness she has paid you in your life has been a testament to her charity, rather than anything about you that would bring her joy?”

Elody freezes.

“I don't know that I can answer that.”

“It doesn’t seem very fair to Elody that you can’t.” 

“... I agree.”

The image in the mirror of the man who will never be a man again ripples and vanishes. Elody’s hands have fallen away from the hair around her face, which is convenient, as she finds herself suddenly holding a book. The hair recedes, and she doesn’t register what it is Rapunzel is saying to try and placate her, because the book in her hands is a slim volume, bound in her favorite shade of green and embossed in golden ink.

On the front is the title — The Princess Elody.

[shmaptainwrites]

ahhh guys it’s a part 2 to love you three! it ended up being a little more hurt comfort than i expected but still more content of our cute little family 🥹

Pairings: James Wilson x fem!Reader

Warnings: some family insecurities

Three, Four, Five

“Benny!” you spun around and shoved your hands in your pockets, seeing no sign of your son anywhere. “Hey, sweetheart, have you seen Ben anywhere?”

James shrugged his shoulders, but his eyes pointed behind the kitchen island, discreetly giving his son’s position away.

“Oh, that’s just too bad I was going to ask him what he wanted for dessert tonight,” you said in a clear loud voice, and just like you predicted, little Benjamin came running out from the kitchen almost so fast you couldn’t scoop him up in your arms when he arrived at your feet.

“Can we have ice cream?” he asked eagerly and you laughed, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“After dinner and after we finish this project you have to do for school.”

“Dad, do I have to?” Ben whined and James gave him a look saying,

“What do you think, squirt?”

“Why don’t you want to do it?” you asked, putting him down on the couch and sitting next to him, James closing the fridge and joining you in the living room, the faint sound of your other two children playing in the room filling the rest of the quiet house.

“No reason,” he shrugged and you and James both looked at him skeptically.

“What’s the project?” James asked.

“A family tree,” Ben sighed and you looked up at James with a hint of sadness past your eyes.

Not knowing what to say initially, you let your husband take the lead of the situation as he hummed in thought, standing up from where he sat on an armchair to come join you both on the couch, sandwiching Ben between you.

“So there’s no reason you don’t want to do the project so then why don’t you do it?” he attempted to point out the fallacies in the young boy’s logic, seeing if that might speak to him.

“Cause it’s boring,” Ben said, looking up at his dad.

“So that’s a reason then, right?” James continued. “Are you sure that’s the only reason?”

“You know you can talk to us about anything, right Benny? That’s what dad and I are here for.”

Ben was contemplating his options before leaning back in the couch and softly saying,

“Derek says you guys aren’t my real parents.”

You frowned when you heard what he shared, knowing this conversation might come up eventually, but you didn’t expect kids to be so cruel so young.

“What do you think?” James asked.

Ben pursed his lips and moved them around in thought.

“I know I’m adopted,” he reflected. “But does that mean I can’t put you on my family tree? Because we’re not related?”

“Benny, we’re not related like Derek is to his parents, but we’re still related,” you wrapped an arm around him and gave him a squeeze.

“How?” Ben asked curiously.

“Well cause we’re a family,” you smiled. “That’s our connection to each other and it doesn’t matter that it doesn’t look the same way as it does in other people’s families.”

“And we have some cool stories to go with it too,” James added. “Have your mom and I ever told you about how we met you?”

“How you met me?” Ben chuckled. “No, I don’t think you have.”

“Well we’d have to go back about seven years ago,” you started.

“Yeah a time where dad’s back didn’t have issues and mom didn’t need glasses to read everything,” James added, making Ben laugh and you roll your eyes. “It was a pretty cold night, wasn’t it?”

“Snowing outside,” you nodded. “I got a call from your auntie Lisa telling me there was a small baby in the emergency room and they needed my help to make sure he was okay.”

“Was that me?” Ben asked.

“You bet,” you nodded. “So I ran downstairs from my office and when I got there I saw you all bundled up in one of the nurse's arms while they checked you up. I went over and offered to take you and when they put you in my arms I could have sworn it was magic.”

“How was it magic?”

“You know how sometimes moms and dads talk about how they feel when they hold their baby for the first time?” you asked and Ben nodded. “I felt that with you, because I think deep down I knew that you were going to be my baby.”

“It was love at first sight,” James said. “Just ask your grandparents how they felt when me or your uncle Danny were born. We felt the exact same way when we saw you.”

“So you felt the same with me as you did with Amy and Nate?”

“The absolute same,” James nodded. “We love them just as much as we love you.”

“Which is a lot,” you added with a nudge.

Ben seemed to be feeling better about the whole situation, but with a bit more thought he found himself with one more question.

“What do I do if someone says you aren’t my real family?”

“That’s a good question,” you pursed your lips. “Any ideas, Jamie?”

“You could tell them it’s too bad they think we aren’t your real family because no matter what they think it’s not true,” James said simply. “You’re our son and you’re Amy and Nathan’s big brother, nothing someone says is going to change that.”

“Change what?” Amy asked, walking into the living room from the hallway, Nathan trailing behind her.

“That I’m your brother,” Ben said.

“Yeah, no duh,” Amy rolled her eyes like it was the most obvious thing in the whole world, making you all laugh. “Who said you’re not our brother? They’re really stupid.”

“Amy, language,” you chastised.

‘She’s right’ James mouthed in your direction and you tried to stifle another laugh to not encourage her.

“Come here you two,” James motioned for the kids to join you on the couch, picking Amy up and placing her on his lap while you helped Nathan sit next to you.

“What are we doing?” Nathan asked after a moment of silence, looking to his twin sister for answers.

“We’re trying to have a nice family moment, Nate, you gonna cooperate?” James teased and reached over to tickle his youngest son who squirmed and squealed with laughter while Ben and Amy tried to come to his aid, eventually overpowering him and tickling him right back.

“Alright, alright kids, give your dad a break, we still need him in one piece,” you put your hand on Ben’s shoulder, pulling him back a little and then moving Amy's hands away from James’ neck where she was still earnestly trying tot tickle to avenge her twin brother.

“Thanks honey,” James leaned over and you shared a quick kiss. “Love you.”

“Love you too,” you smiled before looking at your three kids and they all knew what was coming. You and James each pressed a kiss to either side of Ben’s face saying,

“Love you three,” before moving onto Amy with “Love you four,” and finishing with Nathan and “Love you five.”

You looked over at James with a grateful look in your eyes and you both thought maybe Ben’s project could wait until after dinner and a nice big bowl of ice cream.

[wonderlandwalker]

To Love or To Lose| Finnick Odair X Reader

THG Masterlist / Taglist / Inbox

Summary: Finnick wishes he could just simply make up his mind about you, but in reality he was in a constant rotation of emotions. He knows it could never be, but that doesn't mean it's easy to let go.

Content Warnings/Tags: Slight fluff but mostly angst, look I tried writing fluff but it's simply impossible, this is once again not proofread, no use of y/n, no character descriptions.

Word Count: 1.1k

A/n: Ask and you shall receive. Still recovering from the writing mush my thesis put me in but slowly trying to get back to it, hope this is good. Let me know if you guys have any requests! (Once again divider by @saradika-graphics who was sent to tumblr by the damn gods themselves)

He wanted to hate you, his life would be so much easier if he could just hate you. And every once in a while, he could convince himself that he did, that when you looked at him with that sparkle in your eyes the feeling in his stomach was disgust and not butterflies, that when he saw you all dressed up at a party the haze clouding his mind was annoyance instead of jealousy, but as soon as he would actually talk to you the masquerade fell down quicker than he cared for, and he would have to confront it time and time again.

If he was honest with himself he knew what this feeling was, he knew the fact he wanted to crumble to his knees and ravage you until the melody of you moaning his name graced his ears wasn't contempt, but actually facing reality was much harder than upholding the illusion. Because you were everything he stood against, you were everything he had devoted his life to destroy, you were part of the capitol. And yet he found himself wanting to devote himself to you, found himself desperate for your attention.

He fought the battle with himself for so long, but every time you had snuck away from a party to your apartment you would become so gentle, you would reassure him and care for him and it would make him question everything he thought he knew, because capital citizens weren't good people, he knew that, so why were you?

And tonight had been different, he had dreaded the event since he first heard of it, and tried everything he could to get out of it, but President Snow wasn't one to easily budge. It was a night in honour of something he could not remember, something he didn't care to remember either way. His stylist had dressed him up less provocatively than usual, a three-piece suit adorning his frame letting him know it was at least a high-profile occasion, therefore letting him know you would be here.  He was scanning the crowds of people he so desperately wanted to destroy, desperately seeking for you among them. And the moment he saw you he remembered why he put himself through all this turmoil, why he couldn't simply stay away. The blue dress you were wearing put the oceans at home to shame for daring to think they were beautiful, it made him wonder if the skies above knew they were being humbled by you tonight, and once again he couldn't help but walk over to you the second he caught someone else noticing the same thing. And he knew, logically he knew that it was his own doing, that if only he could get over himself and tell you the intricate rambles of his mind he would have no need to feel threatened. Because that's what this feeling was slowly creeping its way up to the surface, the threat of someone else realizing what he was taking so long to come to terms with, and he had no one but himself to blame.

And as he woke up the next morning he forced himself to forget everything he learned once more, just as he did every time he spent the night with you, because this sense of peace was nothing but a well-constructed time bomb. 

The way you would so perfectly fit into his arms as he lay beside you, as if someone had found the mould of his body and crafted you to complement it made him melt every single time. The soft tilt of your voice as you invited him in without fail made him wonder if perhaps it was possible because you did not ask what others did, you did not demand more than he was willing to freely offer, the only thing you wanted was to be with him. And maybe it was the fact that he wasn’t sure how to process the concept, but maybe he was still too scared to even try. 

And as he attentively removed your soft skin from his and got up to get dressed he knew he was creating his own destruction, that he was reconfirming his own fate. And if he truly let himself he knew he would love you, he knew he would love you until the world was cruel enough to rip you apart, but he also knew that he would convince you to join the cause without even meaning to. Because if loving you was what he would do, he wouldn’t hold back, he would share every part of himself with you, including the one that would lead to destruction. You were smart, you were smart enough to survive on your own in a world that was out to get you, bright enough to climb to the top and remain there, you were respected enough that he knew Coin would utilise it, she would be foolish not to. And no one would make it out of the war unscathed, but he wasn't about to contribute to the harm of it, not willing to risk it.

So stuck with the alternative it was, stuck pondering over the what ifs and the distant possibilities, wondering if he would be able to remember the feeling of your lips against his until the moment he died, wishing to forever recall your sweet whispers. He would come back to it as long as he could, as long as he could stand the guilt of exposing you to the exact same thing he would spend the rest of his life recovering from

They say it's better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all, but what about the scenarios that run rampant in his head as he looks back at you, the internal screaming of doubt as he closes the door behind him to return home, careful not to wake you as the lock clicked in place, because if he knew he wouldn’t be able to look himself in the eyes if he had to see yours shimmer back at him. He would have to love without ever being able to lose, because you would always be in the back of his mind, receding with an infatuation that would be his undoing one of these days.

[bicheetopuff]

Hello how are you? Before everything, I'm not a bkdk hater or something, actually I love them, I just wanna know if you see a interview where Hori-sensei said that he see snow moments as somethings romantic. It was a comment of someone on Pinterest as a evidence of izu//ocha because of last chapter when they were talking in the winter, I hope it won't bother you, I will be happy if you see this post 3>

You’re not bothering me at all!

I know what you’re talking about and I’ve seen people say that the tiny panel where they walk in the snow together makes them canon. However, Horikoshi hasn’t said anything about it to my knowledge. He only did one interview I believe for the end of the manga, and he didn’t say anything about romance at all.

Now, while Horikoshi didn’t say anything, it is seen as romantic in Japan to be together in the first snow of the season and I think that’s where fans are getting that from. However, the panel is really small, there’s no proof that that’s the first snow and there’s no proof that they’re even alone. They’re walking together but their classmates could be right next to them for all we know.

But theres also a lot of things in Japan that are considered romantic. Catching cherry blossoms, confessions in the rain, praying at a shrine together, crying together, telling someone you want to spend your life with them… with the logic they’re using, bkdk was canon a long time ago since they follow all of those tropes as well. And with the same logic, that’d make iideku, tddk, krmn, and tgchk canon too.

I don’t hate izu//ocha as a ship at all, but I think some of their fans are coping really hard rn since they weren’t explicitly confirmed or even hinted at. I know there’s a lot of people who’re like “yeah they didn’t end up together, but I’m happy with how their relationship grew :)” but they’re a very quiet majority. The loud minority is finding anyway to prove them canon and they’re kinda starting to sound like the queer shippers they hate so much. I don’t care what they do, if they wanna spread misinformation they can, but the hypocrisy irks me.

I wouldn’t worry about comments like that, Horikoshi’s interviews tend to spread and be translated very quickly by fans if not by SJ. If you can’t find one easily, chances are they don’t exist.

[nonsensical-pixels]

Dear Sims 2 Community,

Or really, just about anyone who does the stuff this post mentions...

Forewarning: this is a LONG post.

For the last few years I've just kinda bottled this rant inside of me. But I've just gotten tired of trying to be patient.

Yes, Abhijeet is a real name--and quite a famous one. Yes, there are millions of people out there with Ng or Wong as a last name. Yes, Pong is a real name too.

Abhijeet - 'victorious' or 'conqueror' in Sanskrit

Ng/Huang (黄）- 'yellow', to 'fall through'

Pong - 'noble'

The same goes for almost every first and last name in The Sims 2's name generator. They're not made-up names just because they don't fit your image of a Western suburbia. In fact, they are taken from the developers' names. Just because they're Asian names, or non-white names, or 'spelt weirdly', doesn't mean that they're 'fake' or whatever or 'weird'.

I am tired of going on Reddit or Discord or whatever and seeing people making fun of names like 'Ng' and suggesting that the developers were lazy to put that in the name generator. Uh, no? 'Ng' is a very common surname for Chinese people--not just in Asia, but in the West too. So either you are being grossly ignorant, or you just cannot believe that Asians exist out there.

As a South-East Asian, I am tired of this whole ‘not-white, not real' logic exercised in this community. Not everyone who plays this game is from the West. As a South-East Asian, it's quite infuriating to see people make fun of names like 'Pong' because they can't be bothered to at least Google the name's meaning.

What I love about The Sims 2 is how diverse the names that townies generate with are. The developers could have left in your average American names and left it at that. Instead, they used their own names, and it's just proof of how diverse the developer team was. If you look at the names townies can generate with, it's actually insane. There are so many unique, rare names on there that people are just... making fun of, because they have this belief that The Sims 2 is an 'American' game and as a result everything should match what your perfect American suburb would have in it.

As if there isn't a whole neighborhood inspired by Shakespearean lore in there where a child has the name Bottom--or whatever.

Maybe I am overreacting a bit. But it makes me so infuriated when people make fun of things they don't fully understand. Without even Googling it. Every other post on r/sims2 is 'Is Abhijeet a real name??' Uh, yeah, a single Google search could've told you that.

In short, I am just tired of the Sims community constantly misrepresenting people like me or acting like Asians in the game are unusual.

It's not just names, too. It's also in appearance, languages, etc. So I've compiled a small list of misconceptions you may want to avoid, because why not, too many people never seem to get them.

Not all Asians are Chinese. I've used Indian and Chinese surnames as examples because they're closest to my understanding (being part Indian, part Chinese) but I see an insane amount of people acting like Indians aren't from Asia or all Asians are Chinese. Same goes for the people who act like all Asians are Japanese. Mary-Sue doesn't have to be Chinese, she could be Japanese, Korean, or not even Asian at all. I am really tired of people acting like my HC that she is only part-Asian is weird.

Not all Asians have light skin. It's not even a regional/ethnicity thing, where Indians are also Asian and a lot have brown skin, etc. There seems to be this idea in a lot of communities that all Chinese must have ultra white skin, black hair, and brown eyes. I have never met a Chinese person outside of actual China who looks like they'd blend in with the snow. South-East Asia is not only chock-full of Chinese people whose ancestors left China decades ago, it's also smack-dab on the Equator. If you can go about your daily activities and stay pale, I am in absolute awe of you.

Not all Asians have 'slint-eyes'. I find this grossly racist and very ignorant, because even that term makes my skin crawl. Yes, some of us have our eyes slanted towards the center of our face. That does not mean that all of us do or that the Korean girl you're making must look like her eyes are sideways.

Not all Asians speak Asian. I have no idea who thinks that Asia, a continent that contains most of the world's population, consists of people who all speak the same language. Asian isn't even a language. You may be thinking of Chinese--which, although having one singular writing system (okay, it has a modern one and a traditional one I can't even read) actually consists of dozens of dialects. Most Mainlanders speak Mandarin, but around my area there are so many people who speak Cantonese, Hokkien, Hakka, whatever. This concept that all people from a continent must be able to understand each other is stupid when you look at the European continent.

I apologise if I've misrepresented anyone on this list--if you are a person and you speak the language Asian, do let me know you exist--but for the love of all things holy, please remember that Asians and non-Western people exist. Some of them made this very game that you play every day, and they'd be baffled, I think, to know that you believe Wong is a made-up name.

I don't mind people who use mods to change up the names used to generate townies and make them more suit their gameplay--if you want a themed neighborhood or one that's all-'American', go ahead. But if you're gonna make fun of someone's actual name because you can't fathom that not everyone has first name John last name Smith, please do educate yourself.

Thank you for reading this very long, very on-the-spot rant, have a pleasant day, and please don't be afraid to ask, comment, or give feedback on this post :]

[theconcealedweapon]

The people who say "I don't trust the covid science" have the same logic as people who say "I don't trust weatherpeople".

Weatherpeople are not handed a piece of paper from God that perfectly predicts the weather. Like any science, predicting weather is not going to be perfect. Temperature is usually easy for weatherpeople to accurately predict. If they predict a certain temperature for tomorrow, it's probably going to be accurate to within a few degrees. It's highly unlikely that they'll predict 85 and it ends up being 75 or 95, unless it's over a week in advance. But precipitation is much harder to predict. There are many times when they'll predict a downpour and it only drizzles a little, or they predict a massive blizzard and it only ends up being 1-2 inches of snow.

But that doesn't mean weatherpeople are completely unreliable and should be ignored. Of course they're going to predict more precipitation instead of less, because it's safer to do so. If they predict a slight drizzle and it ends up being a downpour, then anyone who sets up electrical equipment outside will have their equipment destroyed. If they predict less than an inch of snow and it ends up being a foot, people are going to try to drive in it and get trapped. Since there's a wide variety of possible outcomes, it makes sense to be prepared for the worst.

So when people say "covid is no big deal, they scared us for nothing", besides the fact that that's false because many people died from it and still continue to, and many more are permanently disabled from it, there's also no way to have been sure that it's "no big deal". When the virus was first discovered, it easily could have been the most deadly plague to have ever existed, or it could have mutated into that. And if the virus was allowed to spread like wildfire and we waited until we learned that it's much more deadly than expected, it would be too late to do anything about it. And people would be complaining that the government didn't do enough.