#but I'll still judge it <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[xx-knife-xx]

Anyone think it's interesting that some fans:

Dick: kills Joker out of anger. (Immediately regretting it and hating himself even after Bruce brought him back).

Some fans: Wow! So cool! He totally is so mad that Bruce brought Joker back! He doesn't regret killing that clown at all! He's was so happy Joker was finally dead! Poor guy.

Jason: calculatedly kills people. (He thinks the people should die and isn't shown to have any regret for most kills).

Some fans: Oh no! Jason experiences pit madness and kills people without even realizing it! He regrets each kill soooo bad!!! Poor guy.

[i-dreamed-i-had-a-son]

“because he never accepts that it's never been about righteousness--it's about repentance.” except javert killing himself IS repentance.

well, it’s like 12 different things, because bro had gone days without sleeping and very little food and water and he already had low self-worth and kept asking the amis to kill him and just assumed he was going to die AND THEN valjean upended his understanding of the world and morality. he was really going through it & there are a lot of overlapping reasons for why he jumps into the seine.

but javert is like Number One Most Responsible guy in the whole story. taking responsibility is his Thing (forever bitter the musical doesn’t include the punish me monsieur le maire scene). how else, in his derailment, could he atone for his conceived misdeeds other than by handing in his resignation to god? in the brick he had already left a note urging his superiors to treat convicts at toulon better, which is another step in his repentance (and another crime the musical commits by not including it). jumping into the seine was another step.

honestly a lot of ppl who like the book think the musical was dead wrong to exclude him from the big heaven group sing, because it COMPLETELY undermines the themes of forgiveness and compassion threaded throughout les mis. like the musical was simply wrong lol.

This is helpful context! I am still finishing the brick, although I have fully read the abridged version, and that detail about the letter wasn't included, so I didn't know that occurred! (And thank you for the message--this is a long response but I'd love to hear more of your thoughts!)

I agree that Javert is certainly deeply distraught and remorseful; like you mentioned, his worldview is literally falling apart, and his actions reflect his mental state. But his death isn't really repentance--in the sense that it's not what God would have wanted. To me it reads like a Judas situation: a desperate realization of a huge mistake, and doing the only thing you think can make it right, namely, ending it all. That's the just punishment for someone so wrong, isn't it?

But true repentance, meaning the repentance that the Lord desires, is about changing your ways, not "paying a price." Had Javert really understood the beauty of Valjean's mercy (an image of Christ's, just as the bishop's undeserved mercy was to Valjean himself), rather than killing himself, he would have lived to also become "an honest man"--in heart. One who could forgive and understand forgiveness, for himself as well as others. One who could recognize that he is not The Law, that he can fall, but that he can also be "brought to the light." One who could accept that men like Valjean, and men like himself, CAN change, and be changed.

It's tragic to me because so much of "Stars," and his character in the book as well as the musical, is about wanting to be righteous, to rise above his birth and the sinfulness he associates it with. It's about wanting to please the Lord by his actions. But in his end, he shows he never understood what God really wanted from him, and that's where my original phrase comes in: not righteousness, but repentance. To live, and face the man you were, knowing it's no longer the man you are. That it's never been about what you've done or can do, but about what's been done for you. That's the Gospel that he could never fully accept.

To use another example you mentioned, that misunderstanding drives why he asks the Mayor (Valjean) to punish him--in his worldview, mercy is unjust, or at the very least, unfair. Evil must be punished; "those who fall like Lucifer fell" receive "the sword." But "as it is written," God "desires mercy, not sacrifice" (Matthew 9:13). God would have wanted Javert to live, and Javert couldn't see that, and that's why it's devastating to me. In his misunderstanding of the heart of God, he misses what would have set him free from the chains of sin he's always been trying to escape.

That's why he's contrasted with Valjean, who (though he carries guilt about his past till the end of his life) is eventually able to face it and confess what he had done to those he loves. He knew there was mercy to be found, if only it was asked for. Javert was too blinded by pride and shame to realize it, and so, while broken, he never was able to truly repent.

For that, you must go on.

[happi-tree]

out of my head (when you’re not around)

“Mornin’, sweetheart,” Link slurs, voice low and lazy and scratchy from sleep, and he shifts a bit more.

Suddenly, there’s a warm, pliant pressure against Taylor’s chapped lips, followed by a soft pop as Link breaks the kiss. “Ten m’re minness, mkay?”

And with that, Link tucks his head into the side of Taylor’s neck, drapes his arm across Taylor’s stomach, and drops back off into slumber.

What the fuck.

“What the fuck?” Taylor exclaims aloud, because his best friend just kissed him like he’s been doing it for months on end and they’re very close, but never like that.

Or: Lincoln dreams about his life in the simulation, and some wires get crossed.

ao3

Better late than never! Here's my fic for Day 5 of Swiftli Week: Queerplatonic / Ride or Die 💗 This one turned out a good bit longer than expected, but I hope I did my fellow qpr Swiftli enjoyers justice with it!

Taylor Swift wakes up to bright orange against the backs of his eyelids and the sensation of being held. Only one of these things annoys him.

“Hey,” he stage-whispers to Lincoln Li-Wilson, one of his partners in world-saving last year and his closest friend. “Gotta get up and close the blinds.” 

He nudges an arm gently with his shoulder. 

Link’s very prone to cuddling in his sleep, Taylor’s realized. Most of their sleepover nights end with his lanky limbs curled around him or one of their friends, protective even when there’s no need for it.

(Taylor would never tell him this, but he certainly appreciates it - nightmares of Doodler-twisted mayors beneath his bed are fewer these days, but he feels safer having his secure arms around him.)

Plus, Taylor’s always run pretty hot, and Lincoln has a penchant for seeking out anything to warm him as he rests. Often, Taylor ends up with Normal or Scary pressed into his other side, complaining about how Link stole their blankets.

It’s just the two of them this time, though, so the room is peacefully quiet. Now, if only the stupid goddamn sun wasn’t glowing through his eyelids and preventing him from sleeping in… 

“Get off me, please,” Taylor mutters, a tiny bit louder now, wriggling in his grasp to see if he can escape -

“Mmn,” Link groans wordlessly, shifting to throw a leg across Taylor’s own, which is decidedly the opposite of what Taylor asked. 

Link’s eyes flutter to half-mast for the briefest of moments, leaning further into Taylor if at all possible. It’s kind of adorable, the way his face screws up against the light. 

“Mornin’, sweetheart,” Link slurs, voice low and lazy and scratchy from sleep, and he shifts a bit more. Suddenly, there’s a warm, pliant pressure against Taylor’s chapped lips, followed by a soft pop as Link breaks the kiss. “Ten m’re minness, mkay?” 

And with that, Link tucks his head into the side of Taylor’s neck, drapes his arm across Taylor’s stomach, and drops back off into slumber. 

What the fuck. 

“What the fuck?” Taylor exclaims aloud, because his best friend just kissed him like he’s been doing it for months on end and they’re very close, but never like that, and what the fuck?

“Link,” Taylor says, prodding him much more urgently than before. “The fuck was that, man?”

Link makes a questioning sort of grumble before propping up his chin on Taylor’s chest (on Taylor’s unbound chest, what the fuck ), muttering nonsense as he blinks blearily, squinting without the help of his glasses. 

Then, his eyes widen comically. 

“You’re not Chris.”

Link’s voice is still thick with sleep but also heavy with a dawning realization. 

“No?” Taylor agrees, though it sounds more like a question. 

Link backs away so quickly that he nearly topples out of Taylor’s king-sized bed. 

“Dude!” Taylor shouts, diving across the comforter to grab at his wrist.

“You okay, man?” He asks after he’s sure that Link isn’t in danger of falling off his bed and dragging him down with him.

“I’m - I’m sorry,” Link says instead, which is totally not answering the yes-or-no question.

Though, looking at his best friend, it’s easy to tell what the answer is as he hauls himself back onto the mattress.

Link has this… blankness in his eyes. Taylor’s seen it happen a few times before, actually. With the firemen, with Tony, even with Hermie. It’s like he’s not all there, haunted, more of a void in a person’s body than a person. The wrist Taylor’s holding twitches, then twitches again, and again, but it’s only when Taylor looks down that he realizes he’s shaking. 

“Hey, man, don’t freak out on me,” Taylor says, tapping on his wrist in an attempt to ground him as he scoots closer.

Link laughs, a pinched, shrill, hysterical thing as he shrinks away, back pressed against the headboard.

“No, no, no, no, you don’t get to say that, you’re the one who should be freaking out,” he responds, and while Taylor’s glad that his friend is at least present enough to hear him, the words come out all strangled and gasping.

Whatever’s got him so choked up holds Taylor’s heart in a vice grip.

“I’m not freaking out,” Taylor says, then reconsiders. “Okay, I’m freaking out a little. I just got kissed out of nowhere, I feel like it’s warranted.”

Link makes a wordless squeak. He draws his knees to his chest and buries his head in them, still shaking.

“But. You’re freaking out more, so that’s more important. And you apologized, and I forgive you - which, fuck, I guess I should’ve led with that, but - but I need you to be okay first”

Taylor doesn’t have the faintest clue what could’ve set Link off - the kiss is the only thing he could think of, but then again, he initiated it. Maybe Taylor has bad morning breath?

Whatever the reason, he needs him to calm down.

“It’s okay, Link,” he soothes, opting not to move closer but speaking loudly and slowly enough so that it can break through the anxious thoughts swirling in his friend’s head. “I’m not mad. Just confused.”

“Really?” Lincoln peeks through the slats of his fingers at him, and the hopefulness in his voice shatters something in Taylor.

“Really,” he confirms. Why the hell did Link think he’d be angry with him? Even though it had been Taylor’s first kiss, it’s not like Link had intended to go through with it, given that he had backed away once he realized -

Oh. Taylor’s starting to put together what this could be about.

“Sorry,” Link says again, face no longer blocked by his hands but eyes still downcast.

Taylor frowns. “You already said that.”

“I know.”

“So…” Taylor prompts after a beat, seeing that most of the tension is gone from Link’s body. “You okay?”

Link slumps a little, but at least he isn’t shaking anymore. “Not really.”

Taylor scooches a tiny bit closer to him, and when Lincoln makes no move to get away, he joins him at the headboard, nudging him with his shoulder.

“You wanna talk about it?”

Link groans. “You deserve an explanation,” he says, though it looks like it pains him.

“You don’t uh, have to if you don’t want to.” Taylor attempts to shift beneath the hefty, itchy, too-tight compression of vulnerability, and it comes out through wringing hands that immediately fist themselves in the comforter. 

He can totally do feelings, if that’s what Lincoln needs to get off his chest. It’s Link. 

He’d do just about anything for him, has done just about anything, has turned around and doubled back to the FBI for him, has gone through the layers of Hell with him, has watched countless episodes of soccer anime just to figure out the game and see the cute little smile he gets when he mentions something about it.

This, he can handle.

He just hopes Lincoln can, too. 

And if he can’t, well… 

Link exhales loudly, shaking Taylor out of his own thoughts.

“It’s… well,” he starts, voice going soft and nerve-wracked and almost reedy in a way Taylor hasn’t heard in a long, long time. “Do you remember the simulation?”

“It’d be hard to forget, I think,” he says. “I just know my own, of course, but… you had a spouse in yours, right?”

Taylor hasn’t really thought much about the simulation. It was early on in their adventure, and there were much cooler, much more fucked-up things that took precedence in his mind. He hasn’t really given much thought to what the others went through, then.

Maybe he should have.

“Yeah,” Lincoln says. “Yeah, I did.”

Then, “I dream about them, sometimes.”

Oh.

“Oh.”

Link grimaces. “Yeah. And just, they feel so real sometimes. The dreams, I mean. The, uh, marriage, too, I guess, which is kinda stupid since I’m the only one who remembers anything and I’m still a teenager even if I’m technically over a hundred years old -”

“Hey,” Taylor interrupts, voice sharp, reaching out a hand to hover above Link’s own but not touching, unsure if it’ll help ground him enough to stop his spiraling or if it will only make matters worse.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s not stupid,” he says with a conviction that surprises even him.

There’s a beat of silence, and Taylor tries to meet his friend’s gaze, wanting so badly to decipher the emotions on Link’s face and offer comfort. 

Lincoln silently turns over his hand, palm-up, an invitation. Taylor takes it in his, trying not to be distracted by how cool his skin feels compared to his own.

“Okay?” He asks, giving his hand a little squeeze.

Link sighs, squeezes back, steeling himself. “Okay. I guess… it’s not that I have these dreams super often, it just. Happens. And even if it wasn’t real, my subconscious can’t, like… get over the fact that I wasn’t married for years, and… and when I woke up, it still felt like I was dreaming, and you were cuddled up next to me, and…”

Taylor’s face feels oddly warm for some reason, but he understands now.

“Crossed wires, huh?”

Link simply nods, looking incredibly guilty and sad. 

“I’m not mad at you,” Taylor reminds him, “Or like, think you’re weird, or whatever. You know that, right?”

Lincoln hums uncertainly. 

“I promise, dude.” Taylor searches for the right words, and he isn’t really sure that there are any. “You’re always gonna be my best friend, man. You didn’t, like, weird me out too much or whatever. This changes nothing.”

“Thank god,” he mutters, visibly relieved. “To be honest, I don’t know if I could handle fucking up another relationship in my life.”

Taylor squeezes Link’s hand again and wonders how he could ever think that their friendship would be ruined over this. 

“You haven’t fucked anything up, my guy,” Taylor reassures. Then, because Taylor doesn’t know when to shut up, he asks, “Another relationship? I mean, I know things are kinda rocky with your dads, but -”

Link lets go of Taylor’s hand and, shit, Taylor definitely shouldn’t have asked that, should he?

Lincoln isn’t looking at him, though. Instead, he reaches for the ring he left on Taylor’s bedside table, fidgets with it in his hands for a little, slides it onto his middle finger. The black metal glints in the early morning light.

“Yeah, things with my dads are still a little shitty,” Link says, “But we’re working it out. I think.” Taylor nods.

“But… in the sim… the marriage with Chris didn’t work out too well,” he continues haltingly. “And, like, it wasn’t my fault, but it… kinda felt like it was? Like I fucked it up. It wasn’t the only reason we were considering separating, but… I didn’t know that I was ace until, uh, after.”

“That’s rough,” Taylor says, which is a little lame to say to something like that, but it’s literally all he can think to say. 

It kinda recontextualizes a lot of things, like how Link was so quick to call their affectionate names after they got space-married, how he fixated on the concept of being married in the first place… but Taylor pushes those thoughts aside later.

He instead tries to imagine only realizing he was aromantic after dating someone, and it only produces an uncomfortable churning in his gut - especially given the fact that he knows he doesn’t really want to date anyone in the first place. 

Link fidgets with the ring on his finger, keeping his gaze purposefully lowered. “I worried that I, like, tricked them into thinking I was a n- a typical person. Like I made them fall in love with someone who didn’t - who couldn’t - like I was attracted to them that way, and I fooled myself, too, and then I realized that no, I don’t work like that, and I -“

“Shit,” Taylor mutters, noticing the tear tracks streaming down his friend’s cheeks and quickly scrambling for the box of tissues next to his bed.

“Sorry, I just,” he continues, sniffling, “I felt so guilty that I couldn’t give them the kind of marriage they wanted, the one they deserved, and I felt selfish and awful and -“ 

“Woah, woah, woah, man,” Taylor placates, holding out a tissue. Link takes it and stares at it blankly for a moment before swiping it below his eyes.

“Sorry, sorry,” Link apologizes, which is silly because he already apologized for kissing him like 50 times at least and so he has absolutely nothing to be sorry for. “This wasn’t how I wanted you to find out.”

Taylor’s heart sinks a little. 

“How did you want me to find out?” He asks as gently as he can manage. 

Link laughs mirthlessly, and Taylor hates how hollow it sounds.

“Ideally? Never.”

“Dude.”

“Up until now, I’ve been handling it fine on my own, and I wouldn’t want t-“

“Dude,” Taylor repeats, and Link slumps further in on himself. 

After a moment’s hesitation, Taylor scooches closer to him and places a comforting hand on his friend’s shoulder blade, rubbing soothing circles into it to hopefully calm him down. 

“Hey, we’re ride or die, man, remember?” Taylor asks. 

“Yeah,” Lincoln replies, though it doesn’t sound like he believes it. 

“And it’s not just me. That goes for Norm and Scary, too,” he adds, and he ducks down a little to meet his friend’s misty eyes. 

This guy faced down gunfire for him, healed him, protected him, despite everything. Link means so much to Taylor that it feels like his heart might burst with it, sometimes.

And it kinda kills him, Taylor realizes, that Link might not know that. 

“We care about you, Link, and we’ve been through a lot of jacked-up shit. We help each other with our jacked-up shit, and you’re not the exception, got that?”

Lincoln nods, though his lip quivers a little. 

“Just talk to us, man,” Taylor says. “We get it - I mean, not exactly in my case!” He clarifies, “But. I understand where you’re coming from, and. We just wanna see you happy. Time fuckery is, like, typical Tuesday shit.”

“It hasn’t been typical Tuesday shit in like, ten months,” Lincoln says, and his voice is a little wavery, but it almost sounds like he’s smiling. Taylor counts that as a win.

“Thank fuck for that!” Taylor agrees, and then Link laughs - really, actually laughs, weak but joyful; Taylor can feel his instinctual grin in response. 

“But,” Link says, after the laughter peters out, “there were… parts of it that were good, I guess. With them.”

Again, emotional vulnerability is… not really Taylor’s thing. He prefers to blot out any attempts at deep contemplation with humor. 

That’s what his therapist tells him, at least. 

He’s trying to get better at it, at the feeling-things-fully-and-sitting-with-it shit. 

“Like what?” Taylor prompts. 

Link smiles, slight and wistful, and gazes up at the ceiling. It’s an unfamiliar look on him, one that makes him seem older and younger at the same time, somehow. 

“Well, the, uh, kissing, for one?” Then, he grimaces a little. “ Some of the kissing,” he amends. “It’s funny. I didn’t think I would miss it at all - I hadn’t really even thought about it until, uh, god, my early twenties? In the sim? But it’s… nice. Can be nice. Uh.”

Taylor makes an affirmative sort of hum to let him know he’s listening, trying to shake the lingering feeling that he shouldn’t be seeing his best friend smile at nothing the way he is. 

“I think my favorite thing,” Link continues, “was just… waking up to someone. Like, getting up in the morning with one of your favorite people next to you - it’s,” Link cuts himself off with a considering hum, worrying the ring on his finger as he searches for something. “Comforting,” he settles on eventually. “It’s like, this constant in your life. It feels… secure, I guess, to have another person to face down the start of each day with. To take on the world with them every day.”

“Doesn’t sound like a bad gig,” Taylor muses as he attempts to take all that in. 

Then, he blurts, “I’d be down to try that out sometime. With you. If you want.”

Unfortunately, Taylor’s brain catches up about two seconds too late. 

“I don’t mean in, like, a romantic way, or anything!” He rushes to clarify. 

“O-of course not,” Link says, and is it just Taylor, or does his voice sound a little breathier? “I wouldn’t ask that of you, but… you’d really be okay with that?”

Link’s expression is nothing short of wonderment, all wide eyes and raised brows and slightly-parted lips. The weight of his closest friend’s eyes on him feels suddenly like all too much - all that wistfulness and vulnerability and affection directed at him, leaving him with nowhere to hide - but he can’t bring himself to avert his gaze.

“I mean,” Taylor says, feeling at an utter loss for anything profound to say, “Yeah, dude. You’re my best friend. And then some.”

“‘And then some?’” Lincoln echoes, then frowns. “You, uh, don’t have to explain that if you don’t want to, sorry-“

“Quit apologizing, Link,” Taylor interrupts, attempting to swallow down his heart, which currently feels like it’s climbing up his throat. He takes a deep breath, clenches his fists in the fabric of his pajama pants. 

“I don’t know how to describe what I feel for you but there’s… a lot of it. Not romantic but not like friendship, per se. I’m not, uh, in love with you, like in the traditional way? But,” he cuts himself off, squeezes his eyes shut to get through the rest. “I love you, Link.”

Taylor feels Link take hold of his hand. It’s the one with the ring, and the metal feels nice against his palm. “It’s okay,” Link says, and Taylor opens his eyes to see his best friend gazing at their interlocked hands adoringly. “I love you, too.” Their eyes meet, and Taylor’s stomach feels all sorts of fluttery. “In that way, I think.”

“Oh,” Taylor says, awestruck. “That’s… wow. Okay.”

“Okay?” Lincoln repeats with a smile in his voice, tracing his thumb along the side of Taylor’s hand. 

“Yeah,” Taylor responds, feeling… well, he can’t put a name to it. But it’s a lot. 

It wells up in the spaces between his ribs as he glances sidelong at Link, studying the way the rays of golden morning light peek through the blinds to stripe his skin with shades of copper and amber, the way his shirt and his hair are all sleep-softened and rumpled, the way his thumb traces absentmindedly along the side of their joined hands again and again as they lapse into a comfortable silence.

Taylor’s never been one for romance, or for dating, or for particularly wanting either of those things for himself. But when he looks at Lincoln, he thinks he really, really, really wants this. Whatever this is.

Link’s eyebrows furrow, the way they always do when he gets in his head about something. It turns the pale slash of his scar to a lightning-bolt squiggle, and the strange longing-affection threatens to overwhelm him entirely. 

Taylor kinda wants to press his thumb against that scar, smooth it over, meet that mark of his friend’s devotion with a gesture of his own.

“Taylor…” Lincoln starts, brows still pinched together and the uncertainty in his tone hangs in the air.

“Mhm?” He runs a thumb across Link’s knuckles, nudges his shoulder, a wordless go on, I’m listening.

“What do you wanna try out, exactly?” 

When Taylor looks up at him, he adds, “We don’t have to talk about it right now if you don’t want to! I just - I figured! I don’t know, actually, I’ve never, uh, been in this type of relationship before. If you’re okay with calling it that, haha.”

“Link.” Taylor says, squeezing his hand, and the boy next to him stills almost entirely. “You don’t have to be nervous with me, man. Not like I’ve exactly done this, either.”

Taylor hums a little, shifting on the mattress to rest his head against Link’s shoulder in an attempt to calm his friend’s (partner’s?) nerves. It seems like it works a little.

“I think I really like what we have now,” Taylor answers eventually. “I like cuddling with you. Hugging you, holding your hand, spending time with you. Sleeping in the same bed, waking up next to you, like you said. I don’t think I’d ever stop liking that. I don’t really want to like, date, or anything,” he says, glancing down at the comforter. Link squeezes his hand, wordless reassurance, and Taylor smiles to himself. “But if you want to try something new,” he considers, “I guess I wouldn’t be against that.”

“Like… kissing?” Link asks hesitantly.

“I, uh… I guess I didn’t mind it, earlier,” Taylor mumbles, and god, he can feel himself blushing.

Suddenly, the floor is much more interesting. Taylor accidentally makes direct eye contact with one of his body pillows, and his face heats further as he quickly looks anywhere else.

“Ooh, you liked it, huh?” Link asks, a teasing lilt to his voice as he nudges his shoulder, and of course that’s the conclusion he would come to seeing Taylor all flustered and red-cheeked like this.

“I - I don’t know!” he blurts, a response to a question that probably wasn’t expecting an answer. “I mean,” Taylor fidgets nervously, his free hand twisting in the blankets. “I wasn’t expecting it, and that was my first kiss, and everything happened so fast and I was worried about you and -” his face feels so, so red right now. God, this is embarrassing. 

“Hey, you don’t have to be nervous with me,” Link echoes. “And, uh, sorry that I stole your first kiss. That was kinda shitty.”

“You already apologized,” Taylor replies, feeling a little calmer. “Plus, it’s not like you meant to.”

“I didn’t,” he agrees. “Not then, at least. I’ve thought about it before, though.”

“You have?” Taylor asks, gaping at Link in surprise.

“Uh, yeah,” Lincoln glances away, bashful, but then he looks down at Taylor, and the earnest gleam in his eyes sets Taylor’s heart pounding in his chest. “I’ve thought about it… kind of a lot. You’re, like, really pretty, dude. And funny, and kind, and smart, and loyal…”

“Thanks,” Taylor says, and he would be more self-conscious of his voice cracking if his brain wasn’t currently working overtime to process this new information.

Link likes me. Link loves me. Link thinks I’m pretty. Link’s thought about kissing me “kind of a lot.” Holy fuck.

“Well, do you… uh.” Link pauses. “Do you wanna find out if you like it? Like kissing someone, I mean. With me?”

Jesus Christ. This boy is going to be the death of him. 

“You can say no, by the way. I wouldn’t think of you any differently if you don’t want to,” Lincoln reassures quickly, though he seems a little less anxious now. “So, uh. No pressure. But also if it turns out you don’t like kissing, that’s totally okay, and -”

“Okay,” Taylor interrupts.

“Okay?”

“Okay,” he confirms. “I’d rather figure it out with you than with anyone else. I trust you.”

“Oh,” Link mutters, seemingly more to himself than to Taylor. “You sure?”

There’s something fragile about the expression on his partner’s face, something long-closed-off, something vulnerable. The Taylor from a few months ago would’ve run from it, would’ve jostled him a little too roughly and smiled a little too toothily until Link’s expression matched his and things were much less precarious again.

Taylor as he is now, though, lets go of his hand, shifts around on the bed until he sits facing Lincoln, legs straddling his thighs, a few inches of space left between their chests. 

“Figured this might be easier,” he says, looking into Link’s wide, dark eyes. “You good?”

“Um,” Link responds tactfully. “Here, let me just… could you get off for a second?”

Taylor quirks a brow at him but complies, and Lincoln makes a bit more space between himself and the headboard, shifting to sit with his legs crisscrossed. Taylor copies him, scooting close enough that their knees touch.

“Better?” Taylor asks.

“Much,” Link replies, looking visibly relieved. Taylor doesn’t really see much of a difference, but it’s definitely nicer to see him more comfortable.

On the other hand, the fact that his best friend is about to kiss him on purpose has Taylor feeling like he’s about to vibrate out of his skin.

“Where do you want me to kiss you?” Link asks, gazing at Taylor with so much open affection that he thinks he might explode.

“Whuh?” Taylor responds intelligently.

“You look nervous,” Link says, taking his hand again, loosely enough so that Taylor could pull away if he wanted to (he doesn’t). “It’s just me, we don’t have to kiss if you don’t want to.”

But I do want to. Maybe, Taylor thinks.

“Would it be okay if you kissed me on the forehead instead?” Taylor says aloud.

Lincoln smiles, and Taylor thinks that even if he closed his eyes, he would still be able to see the radiance of it through the backs of his eyelids.

“More than okay,” he responds, and leans in closer. 

Taylor squeaks as Link’s hand cups the side of his face.

“You alright?” Link asks, pausing.

“Yeah,” Taylor says. Link’s cold fingers make a stark contrast against his heated face, and he closes his eyes, leaning into his palm.

Above him, he can hear the way Link exhales, feel the way he closes the distance between them.

Then, there’s a soft pressure at Taylor’s temple, warm and loving. The pressure remains there for a few short seconds, and then Link backs away with a barely-audible sound.

Taylor opens his eyes and lifts his head, and Link drops his hand to Taylor’s knee. He’s much closer than before, and the proximity combined with the lingering sensation of his lips against his skin floods Taylor with a giddy, dizzying feeling.

“So, what’s the verdict?” Link asks. 

“Good,” Taylor says, a little breathless. “I, uh, really liked that.”

“Would you be okay with me doing that more often, then?”

Taylor doesn’t even need to stop and consider it. “Yeah,” he replies, and Lincoln smiles, and he smiles back. “More than okay.”

Link’s smile grows, and Taylor finds himself staring at his lips. He lets himself wonder what it would feel like to kiss him, and something swoops in his stomach, a heady concoction of nerves and curiosity and longing.

The smile fades, and his friend’s mouth is slightly downturned in concern. It’s unfair, Taylor thinks, for Link to look handsome even when he frowns. Even so, he’d much rather have him grinning and happy and next to him, and maybe Taylor wonders what it would be like to turn to him and pull him down by the collar of his shirt and fit his lips to the seam of that smile -

“Taylor?”

“Woah,” Taylor mutters, shaking himself out of his forehead-kiss-induced-madness. Because that’s what that was, that’s all that was, right?

“You good?”

“Uh,” Taylor says, still a little transfixed at the way Link’s lips shape out the words.

Ask him, ask him, ask him.

“Do you want me to kiss you?” Tumbles out of Taylor’s mouth.

Link’s eyes go wide. 

“What?” The question isn’t quite a squeak, but it’s almost there.

“Because I think I kinda wanna kiss you.”

“Are… are you sure?” Link brings his hand up to rest it against Taylor’s cheek again, but it hangs in the air, wavering, like he isn’t sure if he’s allowed to want this.

Taylor thinks that’s pretty stupid, so he snatches his hand out of the space between them, presses his friend’s calloused palm to the contour of his jaw.

Link breathes out shakily. Taylor leans a little further into his space, their foreheads practically touching, looking into his deep, dark eyes.

“I’m sure. Like I said, I trust you.”

“Okay,” Link says, just barely loud enough to be heard. His eyes flit downward to Taylor’s lips, and he tilts Taylor’s jaw the slightest amount, and Taylor closes his eyes against the gentleness of his partner’s touch, against the fierceness of the drumming in his chest.

All the manga and anime and romance movies hadn’t really prepared him for this, Taylor thinks. There are no fireworks as Link kisses him, no burning passion beyond the flustered, demonically-assisted heat already scorching his cheeks.

It’s nothing magical, nothing world-endingly special. Definitely not something that should justify a whole plot’s worth of hype, in his opinion.

Even so, kissing his closest friend feels like something sacred and mundane at the same time. He leans his face just the slightest bit further into Link’s hand, to feel the slowly-softening calluses scattered along his palm, and the gesture has Lincoln humming something delicate that’s muffled against his mouth. The vibrations of it reach down to Taylor’s soul as Lincoln’s lips turn up just the slightest fraction - not enough to break the kiss, but enough so that he can feel it.

Link keeps the kiss chaste, which Taylor greatly appreciates, but there’s something slow and achingly gentle about it. His partner’s other hand moves to the nape of his neck, fingers running through the flyaway hairs there tentatively, then less so as a pleased sigh crawls out of Taylor’s throat, unbidden. 

Kissing is… less than what it’s made out to be, Taylor thinks, but it’s not necessarily bad. Strange, new, a little vulnerable in a way that might freak him out under certain circumstances. But here and now, held within Link’s arms, he decides he feels… safe. Cared for. Seen, but by someone he’s okay with being seen by.

After a few moments, Link pulls away, and Taylor lets him, still reveling in the feeling of his palm against his cheek and his hand in his hair and the ghost of pressure against his lips.

“So, Tay,” he murmurs, voice barely above a whisper as Taylor opens his eyes. “What’d ya think?”

Link’s brown eyes search his face for any signs of discomfort before meeting his own again, and the enormity of his gaze - unabashed, unashamed, so visibly loving and concerned - has something building up in his throat.

“Don’t - you can’t just look at me like that,” Taylor says, voice hoarse, and they’d barely even done anything but he’s still overwhelmed, somehow.

“Sorry,” Link responds, rote and hushed, but his voice pitches up at the end, question implicit.

“Sorry,” he echoes back, “I’m just - not used to…” He pulls his hand away from its place on Link’s shoulder (when had that happened), waving it around in the minimal space between them to gesture at - well, whatever they have going on.

Lincoln nods, blessedly understanding, and though he glances elsewhere, Taylor knows the starry-eyed, near-worshipful awe painted across Link’s features won’t fade from his memory anytime soon.

“It’s kinda scary, isn’t it?” He says, eyes flitting to focus on the way their knees bump together atop the comforter.

“God, terrifying,” Taylor replies, slumping forward to rest his forehead on Link’s shoulder.

Link’s arms circle around him wordlessly, automatically, and it feels like relief, like comfort, like home.

“I thought my heart was gonna, like, explode,” he admits into his best friend’s sleep shirt. “Is it always like that?”

“What? Kissing?”

“No, not that,” Taylor replies. “Like… I don’t know. Feelings?”

“I… I don’t know,” Lincoln settles on after a beat of contemplative silence. “I think you’re the first person I’ve ever really liked this way.”

“Same here,” Taylor admits, leaning further into him simply because it feels right to do so. “I mean, I have little crushes every now and then, but you’re the only one that’s stuck.” He pauses a little, considering. “Even if I don’t like kissing as much as you do.”

“That’s okay,” Link says.

“Not a deal breaker for you, Boss?”

Link gives that cute little half-laugh of his. “Far from it, honey.”

Then, “Was that okay?”

Taylor might as well be permanently flushed around Link from here on out.

“Yep!” He chirps, maybe a little too loudly. “More than okay, babe.”

“You know, I thought I would hate that, but it sounds kinda cute when it’s you saying it,” His partner says, and Taylor can’t fight the toothy grin pulling at his lips. 

Then, his mouth stretches a little wider into a yawn.

“Tired?” Link asks, hand drawing meaningless patterns on his back as Taylor nods against his shoulder.

Link hums. “What if I got up to close the blinds and we slept in a little later?”

“That sounds like a great idea, partner,” Taylor replies, a little giddiness welling up in him because they’re partners, now.

And Taylor doesn’t really know what all that entails, yet, but as he watches Link get up and make his way across the room, he figures that it’ll be alright. After all, he’s got his ride-or-die at his side through it all in more ways than one. 

[sysig]

The brainworms are winning, clearly (Patreon)

[passthroughtime]

sunday kuwagami— i mean, sunday six

awfully quiet here today.

tagging the usual @jichanxo, @overdevelopedglasses, @four-white-trees, @mike----wazowski, but tell me if anyone else wants to be tagged regularly, it's just the usual participants who i'm not very nervous to bother 🫣

without further ado, let's start the 'guess the wip' game lol

Yagami unlocks his phone to see lots of ‘Get well soon’ and ‘Kaito says you’re dying there, lol’ messages and swipes them off without even trying to read them all. But he still decides to open the message app to gauge the amount of damage Kaito’s blabbering mouth has made. And... it’s bad. Replying to everything would be even more of a hassle than reading them, so Yagami doesn’t even consider it.

He notices that at the bottom of all unread messages there are several from one particular unknown number, — or rather, the number not saved in Yagami’s contact list. He opens the chat almost on instinct.

“Yagami,” the messages say, “you free tonight?”

“There is something I want to talk to you about.”

“You here?”

“It’s urgent. Reply asap.”

“Something happened? Are you okay?”

“If you don’t reply, I’m coming to your agency. That’s a threat.”

“Yagami?”

And nothing else after. Yagami guesses that, eventually, Kuwana followed up on his threat, and saw Kaito alone in the office (god forbid if with a client; Yagami prefers not to think about it), and…

Yagami glares at the pristine white outfit hanging on his closet’s door innocently. In the end, this all is just a really unfortunate turn of events.

[arcadian-vampire]

Nervous giggles

Even more nervous giggles

There are so many professional paintings here, so many technically advanced, highly impressive works, and I'm just like [slaps some crayons down] y- yeehaw,,

I'm keeping the Escape Motions site Exciting. keeping it Interesting and Ridiculously Colorful

[vigilbutts]

ok ok you know what

little 5am ramble moment ummm because i wanna talk a lil about some EoD stuff with Luis, because while he doesn't do all that much directly w/the story (that's Kalla's business) there IS still some stuff happening with him.

But basically to put it simply, he winds up learning (or really more like just manifesting) some specter fun stuff. Effectively being a specter but with deadeye rifle. WE MULTI TRACK DRIFTING NOW Most importantly of the specter fun stuff is specter shroud, which also REALLY freaks him out when he taps into it the first time. To be fair, he freaked out because his hands became incorporeal and smoky??? Swirling masses of blue and purple shadow??? He's pretty sure that is not how hands are supposed to be?? And it was a very Weird feeling! Felt kinda cold and tingly and numb at the same time! Now he knows what the sensation feels like when he no-clips out of someone's grip, though. Deep down he is a terrified anxious creature so he hates surprises and tends to catastrophize. He does put away the worry that it's void corruption within a few days because it is proven to be unrelated, but still does not put down the worry that something is very wrong with him. (there are many things wrong with him but he's known about those things already for years lol) as to how he keeps developing new things. Well, he's been through a lot and the removal of the Orrian curse had some Interesting surprise effects and unlocked a lot of weird enhanced abilities. Because to break the curse without causing him harm, he was infused with magic to put it simply. also hanging around for various big cataclysmic events where a FUCKTON of magic got released into the world helps. He might have missed most of the dragons but he didn't miss Balthazar getting pasted. No, he helped with that one because things were Personal :') Also got front row seats to Primordus and Jormag (and almost died again, but that's another story)

Also side note! his shadowstep "noclip" abilities are a bit more powerful than in-game stuff. He can take people with him when he noclips so long as he's physically touching them and chooses to do so. It feels a little funky, a little dizzying for whoever he's giving a ride to. This is, however, very draining on Luis too, and causes his illness to flare up due to the strain on his body. TLDR: his alac specter build is Fully Canon now but he also still does a big shooty with his favorite rifle.

[septemberpdf]

i hope i'm not giving any of my dear mutuals the wrong impression because i complain about this guy a lot. its all superficial stuff almost always. we're okay. him & i we're good. i love him a bit. i think he could love me. maybe differently. but that's alright

[mrsstarkey1]

getting rafe hooked on dress to impress

my fav thing i’ve ever written i can’t even lie

word count: 1.2k

obx masterlist

you yawned loudly and abnoxiously as you walked into rafe’s bedroom. you kicked your shoes off, grabbing one of rafe’s t-shirts from his drawer, changing out of your uncomfortable clothes. “didn’t think you were coming back, it’s late as fuck.” rafe said, looking at you oddly as he sat up on the bed against the headboard.

“longest fucking day of my life. need to unwind.”

rafe smirked, reaching his whole body over the bed to grab your forearm. "like the sound of that," he mumbles.

you let yourself move toward him, but you groan, “not like that.” rafe momentarily pouts, but doesn’t let go of your arm. in fact, he pulls you closer onto the bed with him urging you to cuddle up into him.

he snakes his arm around you, soft fingers tracing circles into your side. "wanna talk about it?"

you yawn and shake your head, "nah, can we just watch a movie or something?"

rafe nods, grabbing the TV remote from the nightstand. "you don't wanna watch some chick-flick do you?" he asks, grimacing already.

you sigh dramatically, “i guess not. fast and furious?”

rafe obligies, satisfied with your suggestion. you get comfortable on the bed, your head rested on rafe's shoulder and your phone rested on his chest as you scroll through tiktok.

about 20 minutes later, you see a video about the new halloween update on dress to impress and gasp before you can stop yourself. rafe jumps slightly, eyes wide. “jesus christ, what’s wrong?”

"sorry, nothing," you grin apologetically, "can I borrow your laptop though?"

he looks at you like you've lost your mind, but he still grabs his macbook from the nightstand, handing it over to you. you sit up excitedly, leaning up against the headboard.

you open the laptop and sign into your roblox account, side eyeing rafe as he gives you an odd look. "the fuck are you doing?"

"playing a game," you respond innocently.

he raises his eyebrows, "roblox? wheezie used to play that shit.. when she was 8," he says, judging you hardcore.

you glare at him, "you don't understand," you sigh. "just watch me play, it's genuinely fun."

he watches you click on dress to impress, making a disgusted face. "yeah I can't defend you on this one," he says and you shove his shoulder.

"well have you ever played dress to impress?" you ask him.

"obviously not," he says, his sassy side on full display.

"well don't judge then. just watch and i'll let you play a round when i'm done," you say with a smile, patting his cheek softly.

"hell nah," he says, directing his attention back to the movie.

you shake your head, giving up on getting him to play. you start a round, looking around at all the new pieces they added. the theme is holiday for your first round, so of course you do halloween.

you notice rafe's eyes on the computer screen as his curiosity clearly starts to creep back in despite himself. he watches as you piece together combination of a witch hat, spiderweb dress, and dark boots.

“what even is this shit?” he asks, trying to sound nonchalant but clearly intrigued.

you grin, not taking your eyes off the screen since you only have a minute left. “you compete with other people to make the best outfit based on a theme. you'd be pretty good at it, you've got great style," you say, trying to persuade him.

he gives you a look, shaking his head, "sounds dumb as fuck," he says, and you just laugh. he's silent for a moment before turning slightly to have a better view of the screen, "so what you just like... dress them up and shit?"

you nod, watching the time run out. "yes, then everyone votes on each outfit and the top 3 get on the podium. see," you point to the screen, "the voting's starting now."

an outfit that's completely off theme struts down the runway and you grimace, "see like that one's ugly as fuck so i give it a 1. oooh look, this ones mine," you say with a proud smile. "doesn't she look great?"

rafe shrugs, "i guess."

you ended up getting third place, losing to two terrible outfits. you curse under your breath, before turning to him. “you wanna try a round?” you smile, looking up at him.

rafe scoffs, glancing back at the movie, but curiosity gets the better of him. “alright, fine, hand it over.” he takes the laptop.

"okay the theme is beach day," you tell him.

he hums in response, looking around at the clothes aimlessly. "rafe, you gotta pick something that actually matches,” you say, stifling a laugh as he pairs a yellow bikini top with neon green shorts.

"shh, I have a vision," he says, dismissing your words. "wait why the fuck doesn't she have a face?"

"you gotta go to the makeup and hair room, over there," you point at the screen.

he scrolls through the makeup options, finally decided on one. "mhm, she bad ain't she?" you chuckle, knowing rafe is secretly loving this.

time runs out just as he adds the coconut drink, and you see him watching the screen eagerly, waiting for the voting to end. one girl dressed in long pants and a jacket walks out and he looks over at you, disgusted, "this bitch didn't even look at the theme." all you can do is laugh and nod your head in agreement.

when rafe places second, he smirks, looking way too pleased with himself. "ha," he says, "i did better than you."

you roll your eyes. "yeah you're done playing," you say, snatching the laptop back.

the next night, you texted rafe that you were gonna come over after your morning shift and you didn't get a response, which was odd. you let yourself into his house with the key he'd given you. "rafe?" you called out, walking into the living room. "you here?" no response.

you furrowed your eyebrows, walking up the stairs. maybe he was just in his room, you thought, taking a nap or something. you creak open his bedroom door, met with the scene of him sitting on his bed, looking intently at his laptop.

his eyes shoot up to look at you and he slams his laptop closed, guilty look in his eye. you raise your eyebrows, "what were you doing?" you question him, walking toward the bed.

he rubs the back of his neck with his hand, shaking his head. "nothin.'"

your eyes narrow, "were you watching porn?" you joke, sitting down next to him.

he sighs, "worse.." he trails off. he mentally debates for a minute, before pulling his laptop back into his lap, opening it slowly to reveal dress to impress on full display.

your hand shoots to cover your mouth, laugh escaping your lips anyway. all he does is glare at you, "this is your fucking fault."

you lean into him with a laugh, "I know I know, sorry. don't be embarrassed, rafe." you press a kiss to his lips.

as you kiss him, you can’t help but laugh again, glancing at his screen. "okay wait that's actually a cute outfit. you're getting good," you nudge him, "fashionista," you add quietly with a chuckle.

he looks at you straight-faced, "I'm only playing this dumbass game because you dragged me into it. i was just bored so,” he gestures to the screen.

“sure, rafe, whatever you say,” you tease, cuddling up beside him. "feel free to keep playing, don't stop at my expense."

he scoffs, but gives in and restarts the game.

you wrap your arm around his middle and watch as he puts together outfit after outfit, the grin rarely leaving your face.

you just love your little fashionista.

----

requests are OPEN 💌

[tiffanylamps]

f1 is so stupid

(a really original hot take from the idiot who has been watching it since they were a kid)

[tenok]

Well I won't say that Aziraphale was horrified at thought of kiling a child, he was mostly sitting there arguing that he shouldn't be the one doing the killing (he does cleary dislike the idea), which is a little different (and btw I rewatched that scene for this and wow, first of all how cinematografically great first season are, it hits hard, and second it's a small thing but him immediatly jumping from "I don't want to do the kiling" to "what if we go to his party and prevent hound from happening" — that's such a great moment usually overlooked, but it's on par with "I will try to talk with higher ups" and his other desisions in the way how he never gives up and always tries to think of several other possibilities, even when Crowley already lost hope. Just, chef kiss), and while he dislikes it and was willing to find his way around this, as soon as he set his mind on this track and up to the moment of shooting he was working fast and clever on finding his way to kill this child without much remorse. In no way I say this as a way to critisize him, no, I actually think it' great example of how he deals with using violence: he will try to find the other way, but if there's no other options? He will use it, will use it cleverly, and he won't be sorry much. That's just part of his tool chest, not his favorite, but not something he swears off forever. And it's sexy of him.

But other than that I think it's a matter of perspectives. I don't like overly sweet, soft and innocent portrayal of Aziraphale that you can usually find in fics that's more kind to Aziraphale, I think that he's much more deep and has a better understanding of the world that people gave him credit for and he's much more in peace with some darker thing in himself and others. I also think his softness can be a shield hiding this things not only from others but from him too: like in kilind Adam example, when he doesn't want to think of killing a child, he immediatly jumps to "maybe I can do tricks as a magician :)" which doesn't mean that kiling a child still doesn't a possibility he still considered, that he doesn't still think about it on more deep level, accepting and getting ready, but on surface level? He's into his silly mode. The same with looking for a clues in season two: he's so eager to play detective so he can stop thinking about Gabriel, heavens and hell for a second and calm down. I'm not saying that he isn't naturally sweet and easy to get exited person, but I do think that calm, collected person person aware of horrors and his capability of using violence as much of beauty of the world and his capability to find joy in every litte thing is much more correct portrayal of him than "always cheery and never willing to hurt anyone and being bastard only in sense that sometimes he says something jokingly sexual to Crowley" I usually see.

Now, sorry, I completely derailed post that was about Azirahale trowing fists lol

And about describing him as masculine, I kinda understand what you mean and yes him going into fights can be example of this I'm sure, but I'll say that it's more complex. See, first and foremost, the global problem is that fandom as a whole for now favours Crowley, so all povs, deep reflection and other cool things usually go to him (the quality if this reflection is another thing, god save us from character's haters and character's protectors). And any thing that can be actually deep and meaningfull would be botched if written without considering what's inside character's head, be this fighting/violence/masculitinity/etc! And another thing is that while yes Aziraphale is feminie, he's actually really, really masculine too. He does. It's pretty significant thing. Like, we saw Crowley passing as women a least once, two if you counting Golgotha, and Aziraphale always passed as man. Queer man, gay man. He's not feminie per se, he's utilizing his masculinity in feminie way. He's not wearing a skirt (although I'm sure he can and would if he will consider it proper [the same with violence lol]), he wear a pastel suit. He keeps his hair fluffy, but not long. He does his manicure, he also goes to specifically male's barber to pay him for treatment of his hair and non-existent beard (I suppose, since he's used "barber" and not "hairdresser" but it can also be translation thing). His mannerisms are not women's, it's a gay man thing (or neurodivergence thing). And people... they actually don't know what to do with healthy, non-conventional masculinity and how to explore it. They can play with queering the gender, putting Crowley in skirts and make up and changing pronouns on a whim, they can do one of them or both womens, but people stuck on making masculinity interesting and specifically queer masculinity not… cringe, I suppose? Like, to write Aziraphale beng his *pansy* self and not making this a bad sitcom episode can be challenging, and also some people probably avoid this without even thinking because it can feel disrespectful to write character this way. So it's kinds interesting that people make Crowley this *cool rebellious genderqueer punk* but rarely explore this side of Aziraphale at all.

There's other thing in play, like people loving dichotomies so if Crowley more feminie than Aziraphale should be more masculine, or people just wanting a trope with strong daddy ravaging helpless twink (you can find the same with top!Crowley and bottom!Aziraphale, but less after season two, much less /unfortunate sigh/). But, anyway, I'm derailing again and my point was that Aziraphale's fighting is just a part of bigger... I don't want to call it issue? It's not that deep you know. Fandom shift?

Anyway thank's for listening to me rambling! In conclusion, Aziraphale should be allowed to beat people up when he feels like this, but he should be granted with big pretty flowr crown immediatly later, because he's a softie and we love him for that

Look I think I said it before somewhere but I need to talk about it again.

Aziraphale (in the show - his characterization differs in the book and I’m talking about show Aziraphale here) is a soft character. He started out as a soldier and he made the conscious decision to give the sword away to someone who would use it for protection, instead of keeping it to fight (leaving out the whole thing about War owning it later on cause that’s a different topic and definitely wasn’t what Aziraphale had in mind when giving away the sword). He also makes a conscious decision to look and act as non-threatening as possible, instead deciding to look soft and huggable and gay as hell a tree full of monkeys on nitrogen oxide. We don’t see him fighting anybody even when he gets the sword back - he just holds it and swings it around a little, he doesn’t even lift it when they face Satan (I think. I’d have to go back and watch again but I’m fairly sure he just stands in the background behind Adam with the tip of the sword facing the ground).

We know, or at least suspect from the scene where he fixes the hole in the wall that he’s physically strong and we know he’s still technically a soldier in Heavens eyes (Gabriel going „you’re a lean mean fighting machine“ and him having and possibly leading a platoon in Heaven) but he fully rejects that position in episode five to go back to Earth. He doesn’t want to be a soldier at all. He’s still a protector, we see this in season two with Jimbriel (he literally says „I said I would protect you and I will), but even THEN he doesn’t physically fight the demons entering the bookshop (he lights the circle but it’s Maggie and Nina throwing fire extinguishers and encyclopedias).

I know we as the fandom love badass Aziraphale. I love badass Aziraphale as well. I take a little bit of an issue with how him actually being badass is portrayed in fanfic sometimes because a lot of trying to make him physically fight demons comes across as trying to make him more masculine, more fit, less the campy, soft, kind character that he is and it annoys me. (A part of that is also how people try to make him more like Crowley, which I don’t like the undertones of either but that’s a whole different topic.) Both because I don’t like the implication that to make him badass you have to change that part of his character and because we’ve seen him being badass in the show already and it was either a) trying to protect humans/Crowley/Jimbriel, which involved a lot more threatening that him actually throwing hands or on one occasion b) him being bitchy (Furfur pronouncing his name wrong). It was him being kind and caring about people and their lives! And possibly their reading skills.

And I know there’s a lot of hope for more badass Aziraphale in season three, because hell yeah, Heaven getting obliterated from the inside? Absolutely. But when we get to see BAMF Aziraphale in season three (because I don’t doubt we will, in some form or other) I’d much rather see him be badass by outsmarting Heaven (magic tricks anybody?) and getting away with it or threatening the Metatron or whatever than by punching somebody in the face. And IF he does have to use physical violence, then I want there to be a reason for it and I want it to be portrayed as a bad thing. Like I want I to be the absolutely lowest point of the character because we know how much he detests doing it and he hates having to do it anyways.

In that case also want it to end with the Metatron dead in a ditch.

[killerpancakeburger]

KNIGHT IN SHINING KHAKI

Gif by @bastardcompany

SUMMARY: You've angered the wrong officer. You think you're a goner when Johnny sweeps in to save the day.

PAIRING: Soap x f!Reader ("her" is used to refer to reader once, that's it) (+ Reader's hair is long enough to grab)

TAGS: Civilian!Reader, Depressed!Reader, Insecure!Reader, Angry!Soap, Protective!Soap, GuardDog!Soap, canon violence, hurt/comfort, swearing, blood mention. Ghost makes an appearance as a matchmaker lol. The love is requited they're just insecure idiots. Making Shit Up for the Plot/military inaccuracies.

WORD COUNT: 2.7k

A/N: My original prompt for this was: civilian!reader sees Soap in action and gets Horny. No Scared Just Horny.

Then I found out that Soap canonically beat up an officer. I am also obsessed with this video.

Part 1. Part 3.

This is it, you thought to yourself. 

This is how I die.

The day had unfolded like any other. Your shift was over and you were locking up your office, as usual. Your attention was focused on your hands’ motion, your guard dropped, your back exposed.

This explained why, when the stranger grabbed your hair and bashed your head against the door mercilessly, you didn’t see it coming in the slightest. The fact that you had zero combat experience while the person manhandling you was a decorated military officer obviously made matters worse, but at the moment of the assault, you didn’t know that.

The thud of the collision was eclipsed almost immediately by the pain exploding in your face. Half-stunned, all you could comprehend at the moment, every single signal sent by your brain was compacted in one word: suffering. Sharp, all-encompassing. You yelped, your hands vainly pushing against the cold, hard surface to get away.

“I've finally found you, you little snitch. Didn’t think you'd get away with it, now did you?”

Despite the blood thumping in your ears, and how groggy the hit on your head made you, his words reached you perfectly. They were seeping with fury and disdain. His voice didn’t ring a bell, so you tried to turn your head to glimpse him, if only at the corner of your eye, and he granted you some leeway to do so.

Perplexity filled you as you finally caught sight of your aggressor: you've never seen that man before.

“I don't even know who you are,” you winced.

Talking back in your situation would be judged stupid and reckless by a majority of people. Laying low assured more chances to avoid harm.

However most people hadn't been mugged at knifepoint like you had been, and most people valued their lives way more than you did.

Once the confusion and incredulity subsided, the pain still vivid but manageable, you were left with frustration and anger towards your interminable bad luck and the man behind you. His aversion was harder to take seriously when it seemed to have no foundation.

The grip on your hair tightened, making you grit your teeth.

“I'll refresh your memory, then.”

One part of you managed to be pleased to know that this mystery would be solved; the rest was ringing alarm bells when hearing the underlying threats in his tone.

“Weeks ago, you filed a report for embezzlement.”

You frowned, having no recollection of his claims, before a memory emerged. You saw them in flashes: the sudden, abnormally high spendings, the certificates full of anomalies, the incoherent dates; all this lead you to complete a reporting form, just as your job required you to. It was just a formality. You hadn't even even paid attention to the name attached to the expenses, therefore the officer was still anonymous.

Your aggressor scoffs menacingly, easily reading on your face that you remembered.

“They're gonna strip me of my rank and throw me in jail because of you. I'll make you pay even if it’s the last thing I do.”

That last sentence was finished in an almost shout, making you flinch, wishing you could pass through the door.

You quietly resigned yourself to your fate. No one was coming for you. You were no stranger to the inner workings of the military - no one would dare cross an officer that high-ranked for your sake. 

I've lived a good li- well, no. A pretty shitty life, actually. But at least I can say I did the right thing.

Just as you closed your eyes and braced yourself, hoping this wouldn’t drag on, a Scottish-accentuated roar resonated in the empty hall.

“Get yer hands off her-”

You had never heard Soap sound so enraged, nor his pitch so gravelly. Relief flooded through you at the sound of his voice, blended with gratitude. Tears stinged the corners of your eyes.

All of a sudden the unyielding grip on your hair was gone, the sound of something violently hitting the wall punctuating your newfound freedom. 

“-ye fucking bastard!”

You immediately turned around to see what was happening, leaning against the door behind you. Your legs were too shaky to be reliable. The harmed side of your face was throbbing in pain as you took in the scene with wide eyes.

Johnny had pinned the officer against the wall with one forearm across his chest. He dealt him a punch to the face powerful enough that the resulting thud made you grimace, despite not feeling any sympathy for his target.

He managed to administer a second blow before his adversary snapped out of his stupor, and the advantage he gained from taking him by surprise ran its course.

As your assailant defended himself with the strength of someone backed into a corner, you couldn't help but fear for Soap's safety for a moment. Despite knowing that one's rank didn’t reflect their fighting prowess, a rush of anxiety passed through you at the idea that he could lose that confrontation.

Nonetheless, he quickly put your mind at ease as his skills proved to be largely superior. The gap between the two was deep enough that it was obvious even to a neophyte like you.

Paralyzed, you couldn’t do anything but stare at the display of violence with a mix of morbid fascination and sadistic satisfaction. Honestly, if you could borrow Soap's body, you would without a doubt inflict the same treatment on that man. Maybe worse. Fair payback for the threats, the smashing of your face, the probable trauma you'd get from this. Maybe not that fair. But maybe for once you'd stop trying to act like a paragon of virtue.

You should have been scared, you realized. You had never been involved in a fight before. You had never witnessed firsthand the brutality Johnny was capable of, despite being aware of it, between his status as a soldier and the reports you read. The dog tags jingling from his neck and the khaki of his uniform were like so many visual reminders that he was a killing machine. His ferocious wrath, his yelling and his punches should have made you cower in fright.

However the only feeling inhabiting you was safety, as paradoxical as it sounded. Soap was safe, you were convinced of it, consciously or not.

This whole ordeal felt like it lasted an eternity and a minute at the same time. You blinked and out of nowhere, Johnny was straddling the officer on the floor. Blows kept pouring in but they were one-sided - the sergeant had gained the upper hand. The rhythm of his strikes seemed attuned to the beatings of your heart. Each resonated inside of your ears with your skull as their echo chamber. The noise was loud enough to cover your own thoughts.

As you focused on your breathing, you managed to slow down your heartbeats, and the blood-fueled pump between your ribs no longer felt like it could burst out of your chest at any moment. You failed however to contain the tremor in your hands.

You chose to focus on Soap's hands instead. They were soaked red from blood spilled, but not his. Specks of crimson sprinkled his hair, his face, his neck, his t-shirt.

There was a certain sort of lethal beauty to this brutal display that you couldn't help but contemplate in reverent silence: the way his bicep swole when he threw his arm back before hitting his target. The tightening of the muscles beneath the tanned skin of his arms. His icy stare. The harsh line of his jaw. His stern, inflexible expression, one he usually wore in meetings or after Price gave the order to leave.

The expression of someone who would stop at nothing, provided a bleak little voice in the back of your mind. The idea didn’t bother you nearly as much as it should have.

“Not gonna make him stop?”

The familiar grunt of Ghost's voice almost made you jump out of your skin. You pivoted and the behemoth of a lieutenant was there, in casual clothes, right by your side. You had no idea when he arrived or how long he's been standing there, quiet like a shadow.

Something dark flashed in his brown eyes as his gaze lingered on the hurt side of your face.

“Why would I show mercy to someone who would have granted me none?” you scoffed bitterly.

“Someone's bloodthirsty.”

“You're one to talk.”

“Didn’t say it was a bad thing.”

You turned your attention back to Soap and Ghost did the same.

“I doubt he would listen to me.”

“He would,” stated the masked man, with the assertiveness of someone announcing a conviction. 

“But if ya don't believe me…”

A beat, then.

“Oï, Johnny!”

The shout was nonchalant, like it was something he did often, calling off his sergeant from some prey like the Scotsman was his personal attack dog.

The effect was immediate.

Soap abruptly froze, blinking a couple times as if awakening from a trance. Then he perked up, and turned around, eyes searching. The first sound that left his lips was a call of your name. His gaze latched onto you and didn’t let go as he stood up and rushed towards you. The naked vulnerability, the raw openness in his voice and on his face were so earnest that they felt like a Cupid's arrow shot straight between your lungs. It left you devoid of speech and motion, so as Johnny reached for you, all you could do was try to convey your reassurances through your eyes; that you were mostly fine, and so grateful, but worried for him, that he made everything better-

His arms closing around you made the outside disappear, and suddenly the whole world came down to Johnny, and only him. His embrace was enjoyable for a second before the pressure of his body against your face woke up your contusions. You let out a muffled cry of pain and he released you immediately, swearing and apologizing. However his hands didn’t leave you, grasping your shoulders.

“C'mere hen, lemme have a look at ye.”

“Oh, I'm fine, you should worry about-”

Your voice pathetically died in your throat as he cupped your face, leaning over, way too close for your heart to not start stammering uncontrollably.

The combined attention of his fingertips on your skin and the turquoise of his eyes roaming your visage turned your cheeks into a blazing inferno.

Unable to maintain eye contact, your gaze wandered over his own injuries, a split lip and a couple of bruises.

Suddenly he grabbed your chin between his thumb and index, tilting your face one way and the other. Your skin flared up at the contact, pleasant yet nervous tingles scattering all over your body.

“Ye sure he didn’t hit ye on that side? Yer a wee bit red.”

You bit back a whine of complaint at that comment. He couldn’t be that oblivious.

“Yer makin’ it worse, Johnny.” sneaked Ghost, the amusement manifest in his voice - at least to you.

Soap looked up to him, frowning in incomprehension, indignant. 

“The hell ya on aboot L.T.? How am ah makin’ it worse?”

You panicked.

“Shut up Riley!” you hissed, in a desperate attempt to put a stop to his shenanigans, forgetting that you were supposed to be severely intimidated by the masked man.

That drew a gruff chuckle out of him. Your sudden outburst caused Johnny to release you.

“Not that I'm not glad to see you, but why are you two even here, anyway?”

You were kind of proud of your ability to change the subject.

“Was comin’ tae get ye fer a game,” smiled Soap, and it reminded you of a pet proudly presenting its owners with its findings.

“This one wasn’t coming back, and neither of you were answering your phones, so we figured somethin’ went wrong. And we were right. This poor fucker is wanted. Called in reinforcements to deal with him.”

Footsteps’ noises caught your attention. A group of soldiers in uniform seized your aggressor and brought him to his feet, before unceremoniously shoving him in the direction opposite of you.

“Gotta tell Gaz the game ain't happening tonight.”

By the time you took in what Ghost had said, and turned away from the procession, he had already disappeared.

“This isn’t over,” menaced the officer, passing by your spot as he was hauled away. “When I get out-”

“Shut the fuck up,” snarled Soap instantly, protectively positionning himself in front of you.

“Found yourself a faithful guard dog, uh?” the other man taunted.

One one hand, that last remark wasn’t so far from the truth - he had been acting a lot like that: barking threats, baring his teeths, standing between you and the menace, reducing a man to a bloody pulp for hitting you…

But on the other hand, letting that piece of shit talk to Johnny this way was simply out of the question.

Before thinking, you found yourself walking in front of the sergeant and retorting.

“What, jealous he's ten times the man you'll never be?”

Fortunately for you, he was dragged away before he could snap anything back. That didn’t prevent you from regretting your snarky comment immediately. It had been a purely impulsive urge, the kind that could make you feel heavy remorse for days, if not years. As if this seasoned combat expert needed your aid to defend himself. The idea was ludicrous.

You didn’t get a moment to mope around however, as Johnny proceeded to grab you by the hips and press you flush against him with a jubilant smirk. You couldn’t do much except prop yourself with both hands on his pectorals to avoid stumbling.

“My hero.” he praised like a smitten damsel in distress.

“Look who's talking.”

You lowered your gaze despite yourself, mumbling your reply, a half smile on your lips, embarrassed but amused.

“Going after bastards is mah job, not yours. You gutsy little thing.”

You refrained a sarcastic laughter at the nickname - gutsy and little were two things you have never been called, as far as you can remember. But you weren't about to argue with the man who just saved your sorry ass.

His fingers pressed into your flesh, sending tickles at the bottom of your spine.You were about to ask him to let you go, the position too incriminating for this public setting, when you noticed how dilated his pupils were. He had to be high on adrenaline from the fight.

You may have let yourself get lost in the blue pools of his eyes, until his expression turned grave.

“Ye sure yer good? Yer too calm about this. No need tae put oan a brave face fer me, aye?”

The genuine, serious concern in his eyes made the inside of your stomach twist.

“I'm good. You arrived just in time,” you assured.

How peculiar it felt to be the one to comfort Johnny, rather than the opposite; that the lionhearted, superhuman sergeant Mactavish might even need such a thing; that he might require it from you, of all people.

“He didn’t get to do much.”

His pretty features contorted into a scowl at the reminder of your attacker.

“That sonuvabitch… raising a hand on ye in broad fuckin’ daylight… if he ever touches ye again, I swear I’ll…”

As he kept fulminating against your assailant, you couldn’t stop an endeared smile from spreading on your lips. Listening to one of Soap's rants brightened your mood; it was familiar. The sincerity in his words and his tone was welcome. He wasn’t able to fake those emotions even if he wanted to; they spilled out of him like a waterfall. His honest worry and righteous ire towards someone who hurt you was… flattering, in a sense. It made you feel cared for, like you mattered.

Then red started dripping.

“Johnny… your nose is bleeding.”

He wiped it negligently with the back of his hand, only succeeding in smearing it over his face. You couldn’t hold back a snort.

“Bend over. It will stop faster.”

“Buy me dinner first.”

He punctuated his quip with a suggestive wriggle of his eyebrows. You rolled your eyes.

“Let's just go to medical already.” you grumbled, starting to walk decisively, albeit stiffly, in the right direction.

“Aye, aye,” acquiesced your savior, jogging a bit to catch up to you.

[eva-does-her-best]

Going from "I'm not one of those trans people who do x or y" to "I am so one of those and I should have not judged them and I am glad that I got rid of the normative judgemental attitude I used to have".

Going from "I'm just a lesbian so liking trans men is wrong i don't want to deny their manhood" to "My sexuality is weird and that is fine, I like who I like despite the theoretical implications of it and I am not denying anyone's identity because I like them for who they are and respect them no matter what".

Going from "I'm just a regular binary she/her woman" to "I'm a girl and a woman but my dissociation and life experiences also make me feel impersonal so I can use it/its and I'm not weird for it, i wouldn't even be weird if I had no justification either, I can even use doll pronouns because I like them and they make me feel warm and happy and that is what matters".

Going from "Ok so these are all the labels with their very clear definitions and meanings and everything else is internet quirky stuff" to "I literally would not know how to explain what you are and I won't force you to explain it if you don't want, I don't need to understand it to accept you, you are valid and loved. If you instead want to explain it to me I'll do my best to learn and defend it whenever I can".

Going from "I am so sad, frustrated, angry and in pain because I will never be or look cis" to "I actually don't like the cis normative look, I don't want to cispass, I like trans beauty but specifically I like me beauty, the one where I am still myself but a more me version of myself. The world constantly told me what I should aspire to be and look like and like and I was brainwashed for so long but now I've broken free and am free to fully love myself and everyone else in this world who ever thought they were weird or ugly because my eyes find so much beauty in everything and everyone!"

Going from "Ew furries" to "I don't want to make fun of people who deviate from the norm because that is exactly what happens to me and we should all be together or else we are treating ourselves as exceptions and exceptions are easily revoked, I will learn to love everyone against a brain poisoned with conservativism and "normality". I like rats I should make a rat fursona or smth it would be so cute it'd so represent me :3".

Going from "I am useless, lazy, falling behind, a disappointment" to "I am physically and mentally disabled, there have never been accomodations for me in any aspect of my life and the intersectionalities of gender, sexuality, economical situation, etc. have made my life extremely difficult, I forgive myself for both failing and for blaming myself, I will seek help and advocate for myself to the best of my abilities and I will respect my limits in this world that was not made for people like me".

Learning is hard, changing is scary, but it's mostly just your brain being a conservative for the sake of commodity, safety and self-preservation, sometimes you need to fight your brain in a war of attrition but when you finally win you'll be so much happier.

I am so much happier now, my world is bigger and brighter and I see everyone and everything with a new, beautiful light. I look back on how I was and how I thought and how the world works and it all looks so much worse and grey, I am not going back there, this new mind is my home now.

And the best part is that I know I will keep learning more and changing more and the world and this life will keep getting better and better🥰.

[changisworld]

“Why do you make me feel like this, pretty?”

fuckboy!hyunjin x reader

Word count; 5,902

Summary: After hyunjin took your virginity, you grew attached despite trying your hardest not to. You find out he hooked up with someone the day after it happened which broke your heart, making you cry.. but of course, hyunjin caught you crying. He didn’t really know what he felt, it being new to him, as he tries to refuse the silly ideas popping into his brain, he can’t ignore how much you being upset is making his heart.. hurt?? Surely he doesn’t like you too..?

18+ ONLY, MDNI, SMUT UNDER THE CUT.

©ANY translation, copy & paste, posting of my work is strictly forbidden for ANY posts/ writing i post.

main masterlist here

part 3 here

**This can be read on its own despite it probably being confusing but i highly recommend reading part 1!**

SMUT WARNINGS: spit/drool, PIV, needy reader, pet names, shyish reader, rimming( f rec), oral ( f rec), fingering (f rec), finger sucking, unprotected sex, jealous jinnie, edging???,pull out method, literally 1 spank, slight dacryphilia, jealous jinnie, soft jinnie, kind jinnie, hyunjins a tease obvs, slight aftercare, wayyy fluffier ending than last time you're welcome!!

You & Hyunjin walk off campus, you still hiding your face from him, embarrassed at the tears now staining your cheeks, your face tinged red, you also don't fail to miss the looks you & Hyunjin are receiving from other students walking past the both of you, his arm still around you & you can't help but feel judged, so you push his arm off.

"Forget the cafe, I'm just gonna go home, I feel.. sick. I'll see you later Hyunjin." you murmur, still not looking at him in the eye.

"Y/n stop being weird, just cmon. I promise to cheer you up." He replies back, reaching out to cup your cheek but you move your head before murmuring a quick 'bye' before walking away from him hastily, leaving him standing there, confused & a bit annoyed.

He watches as you turn the corner & he huffs before kicking a stone nearby. 'Why do I care she's actually upset? 'What did I do wrong?' 'I hope she's okay' & 'Shit how can I apologise' are all thoughts that race through his head, no matter how much he tries to shake it all off, he genuinely feels guilty. But why? He never feels sorry for the girls he fucks n chucks, so what makes it different? He barely even knows you? He only spoke to you for a week which is barely anything. He sighs before pulling out his phone & going onto his contacts, about to call Joy, another one of his side things, before deciding against it, instead calling his friend Jisung& asking to meet him.

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Twenty minutes later Jisung meets him at the local dog walking park & they end up sitting on a bench, talking about random stuff before the topic of you comes up, but not because of Hyunjin.

“You’re lucky you got to partner up with y/n for that assignment, I got put with Changbin so obviously i fucking failed, tryna do that presentation on the spot was absolute torture, you still talk to her? she seems quiet as hell.” Han sighs, sipping his bubble tea through his straw & Hyunjin laughs.

“Ay! I actually helped her so shut up, just because you both have no more than eight brain cells, i’m just proof there is such a thing as looks & beauty. Nah, we haven’t really spoken since, just been busy i suppose & what the hell am i meant to say to her?” Hyunjin replies, a quick chuckle leaving his lips.

“What do you mean you’re proof that looks n beauty exist, y/n basically invented it you idiot. Wha'cha mean what are you meant to say to her? Did you fuck her too or something?" Han questions, leaning forward.

Hyunjin just kisses his teeth before nodding & Han just raises his eyebrows. "fuck, I didn't think someone like y/n would get around that way. Can you do me a favour n start speaking to her again n put in a good word about me I wanna approach her but she feels intimidating, you get me?" Once Hyunjin hears these words, a bad & gross feeling bubbles up in his stomach.. is what he feeling... jealousy?

"Uhh.. you're really not her type, she's not up for dating, she told me. Go try your luck with someone else." Hyunjin says in a bitter tone, not looking at the man in front of him & Han scoffs.

"You chat shit Hyunjin, stop gatekeeping! I'll just use my charms & trust me, we'll be fucking a week later n dating two weeks later." Jisung jokes, patting Hyunjins leg but he pushes it off.

"You're ridiculous Jisung, she won't want what's between your legs." Hyunjin spits out before standing up off the bench, stretching out & sighing. "I have things to do, you can keep day dreaming, I'll see you later. choke on your boba." Hyunjin jokes with Han & he spits out a bubble as a response before he walks away, leaving Han on the bench.

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He walks through the rest of the park, thinking about Hans words & he can't get over it. 'Why am I so jealous?' 'Who does he honestly think he is talking about y/n like that?' 'They wouldn't even look good together.' are things that keep racing through his head & he is getting more pissed off as the seconds go by.

He gets out of the park & he keeps walking on the pavement, not having an actual destination in mind.. until he seen you walking out of a random convenience store across the street & a lightbulb lights up behind his brown eyes.

He picks up the pace of his walk as he follows just far enough behind you on the other side of the road until you reach your apartment complex before entering & he can't help but feel like an absolute creep, but that doesn't stop him. He screenshots his location on find my Iphone, just so he won't forget where to go later on as he walks back the way he came, heading to the main line of shops near the campus.

He strolls around for around twenty minutes, looking at random little trinkets, bookmarks with the college logo on it, which he cringes at due to the look of it, before he keeps walking until he reaches a little florist shop.

He enters it, aimlessly walking around, fingertips grazing over a few roses & tulips, admiring the pretty colours as he sets his eyes on a bouquet of lillies. He picks it up, giving himself a better look at it before deciding he is happy with it, heading to the counter.

He places them down, not paying attention to the cashier as he looks at the little vases beside the register.

"Can I get this pink vase to- ohh, I didn't know you worked here Jennie, hiya." he says, surprised. "Sure. You know, Lisa doesn't like lillies, I suggest you get her daffodils, her favourite colour being yellow n all." she responds, smiling up at him. "Ah, they.. they're not for Lisa so I'll pass. Can you fill up the vase with a bit of water too? I think that's what you're supposed to do, right?" he says quickly, hand coming up to the back of his neck, the awkwardness filling the small space.

"mhmm. £29.11 is the total." She says in a cold voice, taking the tag off the vase as she turns around to the small sink, filling up the vase 1/3 of the way. She dumps the bouquet in the vase with no care at all before pushing it towards him, giving him the card machine. He pays, a strained, awkward smile on his face before saying thank you & leaving.

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After buying you a box of chocolates & a Vanilla bean smelling candle & following the path you walked on earlier, he ends up back outside your apartment complex.

He sits on the front steps, waiting for someone to leave the building so he can catch the door & once he is inside, he begins knocking on every door, talking to each person who answers in a quiet voice, Ignoring the confused looks of other students who recognise him who are all definitely wondering why he is knocking doors looking for you, making sure you wouldn't hear him & then refuse to open the door.

He reaches the fourth floor, mouth slightly dry from all the talking he has had to do & he is beginning to doubt his memory. He knocks on the third door & takes a step back, waiting for an answer as he hears footsteps & he can't help the smile that spreads across his face as you are the one who open the door.

"Surprise, & I'm not just talking about my pretty face. Can I come in?" he chirps as he raises his arms, making sure you see what he has brought despite it being almost all you can see, not missing the chance to give you an up & down look, you wearing black tight shorts & an oversized off the shoulder graphic shirt.

"Hyunjin, I told you I was sick.. How the hell do you know where I live?" you question, honestly just confused. "Does that matter? I asked a question, Don't leave me standing here I went to like twenty doors to find you!" he pouts. You roll your eyes & begin to shut the door but Hyunjin stops it with his foot.

"Okay okay okay! I followed you, but not in a creepy way I swear! I just wanted to.. apologise? But I knew you would ghost me If I text you." he says in a sulky voice. You groan before opening the door back open, his pretty face poking through the gap. "You are a creep, you know that? Why you apologising?" you question him, crossing your arms, not amused but slightly flattered despite not showing it.

"I'm not going to broadcast my deep, heart warming words in the corridor for everyone to hear, just let me inside, pleaseee." he pouts again & you just sigh before moving out of the way so he can enter, taking his shoes off as soon as they touch your laminate flooring.

You walk into your connected living room & kitchen before sitting on your corner kitchen counter, your legs swinging off it as Hyunjin follows behind you, looking around at the cute random decorations hung up on your walls & on the mantle pieces.

He places the flowers on your coffee table before walking back into your small kitchen & leaning on the opposite counter top, still holding the chocolates & candle.

"Okay, Can I give you my apology now? I rehearsed this to make sure I get everything right." He tries to joke but you just look at him with a blank expression before nodding, encouraging him to continue. "Okay, I didn't realise how much I've upset you & I'm sorry for not trying to check up on you sooner & stopped speaking to you. I partially didn't even mean to ghost you but I also genuinely thought you wouldn't speak to me anymore since you're always so concentrated on lessons & studying, I thought you would have thought I was getting in your way. I'm also sorry for fucking with that girl & you overheard it, if I'm genuinely being honest, I did it to try wipe my mind of you. I know what we did is a huge thing & it was wrong of me to have acted the way I did, if i'm being honest, this was the first time I did what we did so I just didn't really know how to act, but I'm genuinely sorry y/n. Chocolates?"

He blurts out, not taking his eyes off you as he feels his cheeks go hot, the nerves & also the way you're looking at him making him flustered. You both sit in silence for a minute, him waiting for a response & you thinking of a response.

"Gimme the box & light the candle for me, second drawer to your right n you will find a lighter. If you felt like this all week, You've still had seven days to come n tell me this but instead you've let me feel like shit for a week, this was the exact reason I was unsure to do it with you Hyunjin, in fear something like this would have happened & instead of just growing a pair & talking to me, you fuck someone else to just try forget?" You reply, your voice getting a bit shaky without meaning it, the feelings of it all hitting you again.

Hyunjin listens as he digs into his pocket & pulling out his own lighter & lighting it before putting it on the counter & he walks the few steps over to you, handing you the chocolate before standing right in front of you, leaning his hands on the counter on the outside of your legs, caging you in.

"Please y/n, don't think like that. I know I should have swallowed my pride n apologised earlier, I was just trying to convince myself I didn't give a fuck but I do, hence why I'm here. I honestly think you used those crystals & manifested this or something." he mumbles the last part, looking away from you, his ears going red after hearing his words out loud & your legs stop swinging as you pause at his words.

"What do you mean you actually give a fuck? What are you trying to say." you reply back, resisting the urge to reach out & stroke his hair. Hyunjin sighs & shakes his head. "Don't make me spit it out y/n, It's just gonna sound like a lie to you." You get an anxious feeling in your belly before taking his chin & guiding him to look back up at you. "Hyunjin, just say it, it's only me here anyway. Just say what you gotta say." you respond in a quiet but firm voice, honestly scared.

He doesn't have much option but to look at you as he lets himself melt into your hand lightly before taking a deep breath. "I.. care about you? I don't know, it feels weird but like... I genuinely felt like shit after how I treated you n i've tried to bury it but it just won't leave, I don't really know what it is about you n honestly it scares me." he says in a quiet, quick tone & your jaw drops.

You just freeze as you both just look at each other in complete silence not including the quiet crackling of the candle & your living room clock ticking. Hyunjin can't bare the awkwardness anymore as he gets shy for the first time in years, moving his arms to stand completely upright but you pull him in by the shirt to hug him, tears threatening to leave your eyes as his arms wrap around you in return.

"This better not be some sort of sick joke Hyunjin or i swear I'll kill you, you're gonna boost my ego to a fraction of what yours is." you half laugh as he nuzzles his face into your neck, inhaling your sweet smell. "It's not, dead serious. You're just different n I don't know how to feel about it, stop casting spells to make me attached to you. I've been itching to ask to see you all week, I wish I wasn't being so stubborn." he muffles into your neck, moving his head side to side slightly, his nose tickling your neck, making you lean more into him, chuckling at his stupid joke.

"Stop with the silly magic jokes, you're ridiculous. I want to say you're not forgiven since you need to prove to me you're not talking out your ass but I do accept your indeed heart warming apology & I appreciate it just more than the flowers n chocolate." you say in a soft voice & you feel Hyunjin smile against your neck before he moves & kisses the tip of your nose, smiling like a Cheshire cat.

"That's what I wanted to hear, I wouldn't be able to handle it if you had told me to fuck off, my first ever rejection coming from the first person I've ever bought a present for that isn't my mom." You chuckle at this before hopping off the counter, grabbing the box of chocolates that were staring at you.

"Rejection? You tryna say you like meee?" you tease, taking his hands before swaying them back & forth & he rolls his eyes, chuckling. "Was it not kinda obvious? I wanted to say it without directly saying it in case I embarrassed myself but... yeahhh I have a tiny crush, I think you made us soul tied or something." you just 'tut' at his remark but your face goes bright red at his confession, cheeks hurting from how much you're smiling.

"I'm touched. Got thee famous playboy hwang Hyunjin to like like me, not sure if it's a surprise but I like you too." You kiss his cheek before leading him to the couch as you sit on it, him flopping next to you. "Enough of the soppy talk for now or I'll get embarrassed, you can choose a movie while I get us a blanket." He just nods & you hand him the box of chocolates & he begins opening them as you scurry to your room to get your favourite fluffy blankets.

⭑･ﾟﾟ･:༅｡.｡༅:ﾟ::✼✿　　✿✼:ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

You both end up watching a recommended Netflix romcom suggestion, both of you devouring your chocolates but you pay no mind to it.

Some point throughout, your legs end up swung over his as your head lays against his shoulder, him stroking your hair with one hand as the other hand caresses your thigh.

Every few minutes or so, you focus less on the movie & more on his touch as his hand slowly rises up your leg, then your thigh & his hand is now grazing against your inner thigh over your tight shorts, giving you goosebumps, which he doesn't miss.

This continues up until Hyunjin repositions himself, pushing your legs off him so he can lay down over your thighs, his view now sideways of the TV, not that he cares, not paying the slightest bit of attention anyway as you momentarily tense up beneath him.

You continue stroking his hair, sometimes digging your fingers into his scalp a bit to scratch it, making him let out a satisfied hum. You can't help but keep looking down at the beautiful man laying on you & you can't help but smile to yourself.

As if he can feel your eyes burning into his skull, he moves the blanket down your legs enough to expose your legs enough for him to begin planting little pecks on them, slightly tickilish but you don't miss the wetness now pooling under your shorts. "Stop teasing Hyune." you speak up, your voice quiet & he just chuckles.

"If you don't want me to tease, I won't complain if you lay back." he replies, not bothering to look up at you as his hand reaches to squeeze your thigh softly as he keeps giving your legs kisses, suckling at them slightly,

You think about what he says & you would be stupid to deny the chance, your pussy clenching around nothing. You lightly push his head up off you & he takes the hint, moving & you push the side of his arm, towards the edge of the couch & he looks at you slightly confused but does what he thinks you're hinting at, getting onto the floor right in front of you, looking up at you with his pretty eyes.

You give him a shy smile before you take it upon yourself to wriggle your shorts & underwear off, leaving your bottom half completely nude, biting your lip in anticipation.

"You really got this desperate since last time I saw you?" he teases & you put your hand in front of your cunt, covering it with how shy you've just started feeling but he is quick to pull it back off, looking at the small shimmer on your middle finger before licking it off in one go.

"Don't be shy, gorgeous. I've been just as desperate if not more, can I get a taste?" he says in a sweet voice, not looking away from you, stars in his eyes. "Please.. If you want to." you respond, hiding your face in your hands but he reaches up & swats your hands away yet again as his other hand begins to slowly drag through your folds, making your hips buck.

"Stop hiding, where's your confidence gone hmm? Do I make you that nervous? trust me, there's nothing I want more." he leans in & kisses right next to your lip before smirking at you & sinking back down onto the floor, blowing cold air onto your now soaking cunt, making your legs tense up & he tongues his cheek as he watches your face twitch.

He spreads your folds open, getting a better view of your hole, clenching around nothing before he licks a long, slow strip from your hole to the top of your clit, letting out a low groan in the process. "Taste better than anything y/n, I fucking swear." he says as he looks up at you for a split second. "eyes on me, if you look away I'll stop." he voices before digging in.

You do as he says & make eye contact with him as his mouth latches onto your cunt as he begins letting spit roll off his tongue, mixing with your juices just before slurping it back up, not afraid to make as much noise as the mixes of juices allow.

You weave your hand in his hair & play with his hair & scratch his scalp for him as he suctions his tongue onto your swollen button, both of you groaning at the same time.

"Hyune, so good" you whimper out, your breath shaky as your eyes struggle to stay open & you feel Hyunjin smile against you. He brings his fingers up to your clit before rubbing it in a steady rhythm as he lets go of before his tongue find its way into your opening before beginning to tongue fuck you & you throw your head back, your moans now louder than the TV still playing behind the both of you, your legs now closing around his head, not that he pays attention to that anyway, if anything he is enjoying it.

You begin to clench around his tongue which he remembers is your tell tail sign you're about to orgasm, your moans getting higher pitched & your grip on his hair getting tighter & he chooses to worm his tongue out of your hole before pinching your clit between his two fingers & dropping a glob of spit to it before giving it one more lick, smirking.

"I wanna try something I think you might like, turn over so you're facing your back to me, hunny." You huff at the beginning of a future orgasm beginning to appear suddenly bubbling away but you do as he says, slightly confused.

You get up on your knees & rest your elbows on the back of the couch, you now looking at the wall behind you. "Why am I fac-" you're cut off as Hyunjin spreads your cheeks & begins fondling them as he begins suckling on your pussy from behind, letting out a satisfied hum behind you as you begin kneading the couch until your fingers begin to ache, biting your lip to try hold back moans.

"G-gonna cum Hyunjin, keep g-going." you whimper, pushing yourself into his face, seeking even more from him if it's even possible & he gives you a quick slap on your ass as he removes himself from your cunt again, much to his own displeasure.

"Don't bite your lip y/nnie, I wanna hear you fully, Mkay?" he speaks from behind you as you yelp at the impact & he hums as he keeps kneading your ass, giving it a few kisses. "Your ass is to die for, you know that? Gonna taste it." Before you can even process what he says, your mind too full of lust to understand, he is letting a glob of spit fall past his lips & it landing right on your tightest hole.

You try jerk your hips away from him but he is quicker & pulls you back to him, keeping a tighter grip on your ass, keeping it spread as his tongue begins to graze over your pretty pucker, his eyes scrunching together as he smiles against you, tongue now drawing patterns on it as he lets go of one of your ass cheeks, going down to your leaking cunt again before entering two fingers, instantly finding the same G-spot that made you orgasm only a week or so ago.

Your hips buck at the new sensation & you let out a long mewl, letting your face fall onto the back of the couch as your knuckles turn white from how hard you're clenching on it.

Your pretty hole is clenching & pulsating on his tongue as he lets out a deep growl at your taste, so different compared to your cunt but still enjoyable, you're moans getting to an even higher pitch as his tongue enter inside you, swirling around as much as the tight ring will allow.

"Hyun- please l-let me cum, s-so- fuck!" you basically scream out, not even being able to find the strength to lift your head up to look at the man behind you as your pussy & ass clench around his fingers & tongue but right before you cum, Hyunjin pulls completely away, again & your legs shake from the painful pleasure of yet another stolen orgasm.

Hyunjin leans over so his clothed chest is touching your back & he tilts your head so he can see your pretty face & he sees your now tear soaked cheeks & your pretty, glossy eyes.

"Awww, pretty girl couldn't contain their tears, could you? I promise you can cum now, I don't have a condom on me though beautiful so do you just want my fingers hmm? or my tongue?" he questions as he strokes your now damp hair out of your face, pouting at you.

"J-just fuck me Hyune, j-just pull out." you whiimper back to him, your breath so unstable it's difficult to even push the words out. Hyunjin opens his mouth to re ask you, just to make sure he is hearing things right but you wiggle your naked ass against him & he bucks his hips before just nodding before kissing your shoulder & then shimmying his pants & underwear down, freeing his pretty cock.

He spits onto his cock, pumping it into his hand a few times, letting out a hushed groan before he aligns his tip with your pussy, rubbing himself against it a few times to coat his tip in your juices before prodding his tip against your hole, before pushing just the tip inside.

"I'm still gonna be gentle, it's only your second time, tell me if this position is uncomfortable." he speaks behind you & as you mumble out an 'okay' while your face now being mushed against the cushion again, he pushes his hips forward very slowly until he buries himself to the hilt, you both letting out a moan in unison.

He stills inside you, trying to not cum instantly from how hot your walls feel without the restriction of the condom he wore last time, his hands coming to rest on your hips as he waits for your signal to continue.

Your breath staggers as he pushes forward, the stretch being a bit painful but no way near as painful as last time & after a minute or so, you push yourself on his cock experimentally, making you both hiss.

"You- please move, mak-make me cum Hyune, p-please." you elongate the last word, turning your head to the side so he can actually hear you. He takes a deep breath & pulls out half way before pushing back in, the both of you letting out a whine as his balls slap against your clit, making it even more intense for you.

Hyunjin sets a steady rhythm, lightly using the tips of his finger nails to add sensation to your back, tickling it but also feeling nice as you know it will leave those pretty little red marks later on. Both of your moans & whines fill the small apartment, not even thinking about how your neighbours can one hundred percent hear you.

"Y/n yo-you're too tight, s-so warm." he breathes out, lifting his leg & standing it on the couch for a better angle as he keeps rutting into you, leaning over your back again to kiss your cheek, your moans going straight into his ears.

"To- so big hy-hyune, pleas-e lemme c-cum." you whimper, your eyes scrunching closed, the ends of Hyunjins hair tickling your face as he begins to nibble on your earlobe, your cunt clenching impossibly tight around his cock, almost suffocating it.

"c-cum with me baby, h-hold on for me." he groan back as he tilts his neck into an uncomfortable position just so he can kiss your lips. His tongue instantly enters your mouth & you suckle on it, tasting the remaining taste of your juices from what he hasn't already repeatedly swallowed, making you moan in content.

Hyunjin speeds up his pace slightly & your G-spot loves this, making your legs almost give out on the spot as your brain turns into mush. "I-in my s-stomach Hyun-deep." you babble out against his lips, barely even knowing your own name at this point.

As Hyunjin stands back upright after giving your shoulder a few pecks, his phone begins to ring. Your eyes spot his phone on the other end of the couch, where he was sitting earlier but he reaches over & declines it before shutting his phone completely off, throwing it to the side, his pace not slowing once.

You don't bother questioning it, instead focusing on the noises of your slick & his balls connecting together mixed with the sweat of the both of you, sloppy clapping noises of your skin connecting filling the room, your legs begin to give out as Hyunjin worms his fingers down to your clit yet again before rubbing it frantically.

"In your s-stomach hmm? You can cum for me angel, n-not gonna last, too w-wet n tight." he squabbles, breathing frantically & this i all you need to hear as your entire body tenses up as finally, your orgasm hits you like a brick wall & you let out a squeal & Hyunjin has to grip onto your hips as his life depend on it in order for you to not flop & slip off the couch.

Your noises & the way your pussy flutters around him is just too much for him to handle & as much as he doesn't want to, he pulls himself out of your wet, hot walls as his cum spurts down your ass & back, throwing his head back as his cock quite literally pulsates as his balls empty, a high pitched whimper leaving his lips, breathing staggered.

He comes back to his body quicker than you do & he helps reposition you so you're fully laying on the couch, trying to make sure his cum doesn't get onto any other surface.

He grabs his underwear & wipes the cum off your back in a comfortable silence, slightly twitching as he wipes it off. He leans over your back again before kissing your earlobe. "Did so well, so proud of you, still so pretty for me despite being sticky with sweat." you both weakly laugh as you turn onto your back before using the ounce of strength you have left to pull on his wrist.

"cuddle." is all you say as you pull on him until he lays on top of you, half his weight dangling off the arm of the couch as he lays his head on your chest, listening to your still racing heartbeat & he can't help but feel secure.

⭑･ﾟﾟ･:༅｡.｡༅:ﾟ::✼✿　　✿✼:ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

You both sit like this for a while, talking to one another about what you both spoke about in a bit more detail & also just talk to each other about things you don't know about one another, things like family pets, favourite colours, favourite brands etc.

Hyunjin ends up powering his phone back on & you are both just scrolling through his for you page, when you remember his phone ringing. "Quick question hyune, who was it that called you? If it was important you coulda stopped to answer." you ask him, not lifting your eyes from the video playing on his phone screen, not really thinking too much of it.

"Don't stress it, it was just someone I'm not gonna be speaking to anymore." he replies in s tired voice, still scrolling. His reply slightly confusing you. "Who? I don't mean to be nosey or anything but now i'm curious." you respond back, your fingers in his hair now pausing.

Without saying anything, he switches apps, onto his call log & it's Lisas name at the top.. nineteen missed calls. He just sighs as he presses on the 'more' option before deleting her number & deleting the Imessage conversation without even bothering to read her spam of texts, yelling, crying & cussing him out before switching apps back onto tiktok without saying a word & you just blush, your hands cupping his cheeks from above, your thumbs just below his eyes.

"You're cute." you say as you squeeze them playfully & he just 'tut's but still, he melts himself into your touch.

I'm not completely sure if I want to leave this story as a two parter orrrrrr do a third n final part but to everyone wanting a happier ending here you all are!

Tags: @troublemaker02 @ismokeeweed @lmhcats @isagerada @tsunderelino

[snapscube]

so i don't know if this is a post i'm gonna keep up cause, like i said, i don't really like talking candidly about aspects of my personal identity often these days, and lord knows i especially hate talking about legal identity and all the dissonance that entails. but this week was a pretty big one for me and i can't shake the desire to share my enthusiasm for even just a fleeting moment.

my name has been a sticking point in my mind for a long time. i've adopted many different ones. first, middle, last, you name it. i've been searching most of my life for a moniker that represented my true self socially, and a surname to distance myself from someone in my life who hurt me very badly and never really learned how to stop.

obviously for a long time now I've been Penny Parker to 98% of people who know me, and for the past couple that number has been bumped up to a solid 99% with a few stragglers. it's a name that is so mundane and assumed at this point that tbh I've even come to resent certain aspects of it. which to me is actually beautiful. i find that mundanity, that nuance, extremely telling of how it encapsulates my life. it's a fully three-dimensional reflection, smudges and sparkles and everything in between.

of course, i only just moved out on my own 3 years ago. and unfortunately that had to be the starting point to make this social and personal progress i've been sitting on for half a decade at least now official, tangible, legal. i've been playing a game of catch-up i didn't sign up for, but it's one that does have a silver lining in that i feel more in resonance with who i am and who i want to be than i ever did before being granted this independence.

and as of this week, i have the pleasure of entering an era of my life where the dissonance between who i am in speech and who i am in contract is nonexistent. my name is Penny Olivia Parker. i'm the same as i've always been, but getting better every day at it. soon i'll even have a license to match!

sometimes more of an Olivia Parker in brief moments nowadays tbh but i haven't worked out the details yet. nothin you need to stress over, ill take care of it. the full set is just fine and legally recognized, which is all i've wanted for as long as i can remember.

this isn't the end of my journey, both excitingly and unfortunately haha, but this is yet another huge milestone for me and in certain respects it's one of the biggest i've managed. i'm so happy to still be here. if you're reading this, thank you for being here too.

also those of you who watched my direct reactions the other day might have a little more insight as to why i was so emotional that the day after a judge signed my legal name change a new game by the Sonic Mania devs was announced called "Penny's Big Breakaway" LOL, it was a lot to handle for me but i wasn't sure how much i wanted to say just yet.

[eddiemunsons-missingnipple]

Hey have a request I’d love to see a fic like this:

Dad!Eddie x mom!reader their reaction when their 18 year old daughter comes home with her first real boyfriend turns out it’s a metalhead like Eddie :)

I hope you can do something like this <3

This is so cute, and I love the idea. I just picture Eddie being a complete girl dad. Hope you enjoy. 🩷

Requests are open for the time being.

Dad!Eddie Munson x Mom!reader

Warning: none, just some fluff.

A/n: This is fluff, but I still do not want minors interacting with my work. Not proofread

"He's coming over!" Your daughter Julie raced down the stairs yelling out to you.

Eddie looked up from his phone with his reading glasses hanging off his nose. "Who's coming over? He?"

You saw him looking towards you and then back at your daughter. She just turned eighteen a few months ago. She was born on July tenth. Which was also the birthday of Ronnie James Dio. Something Eddie never stopped bragging about saying it's "the most metalest thing ever."

He fell in love all over again the moment she was born. She was glued to his hip. Anywhere he went, she went. If he was eating, so was she. If Eddie got a tattoo, then he was buying her one out of the bubble gum machine for her to match.

He couldn't stand watching her grow up. Seeing her go from this tiny little thing to a young woman was difficult on you both. She had his eyes and dimples along with his sarcasm.

"Oh, uhh, her boyfriend Eddie, remember he's coming for dinner." You reminded him while trying to keep things calm.

"Boyfriend?" He repeated.

Julie rolled her eyes. " Yeah dad boyfriend you know the guy I've been telling you and mom about for like the last two months."

Eddie didn't say a word back. He knew he couldn't stop her from dating. He actually didn't hate the idea of her dating. He hated the idea of some guy hurting her.

That's all it really came down to. He's tried so hard to shield her from all the bad in the world. But you've helped him realize that's impossible, and he needs to just let her learn.

Once your daughter left for the day, you sat with your husband. You wanted to take his mind off of things and just help him relax. He already possibly has high blood pressure. You didn't want to make it worse.

"You wanna go out back and work on your tomatoes? " You got up and started massaging his shoulders.

He smiled and took off his glasses. "I actually gotta tune up my bike, but maybe tomorrow, sweetheart."

"Are you okay?" You leaned down by his ear.

"I'm fine-- I'll be fine." He reassured you. You turned your head and gave him a little kiss to his cheek.

He was still as handsome as the first time you saw him. His eyes have the prettiest crinkles from all of the years of laughing. His smile lines are visible under his stubble. His hair is starting to finally grey in certain parts. You've been together since you were practically kids.

You and him fell in love the millisecond you laid eyes on each other. Your parents hated him at first. They tried so hard to keep you two apart, but you weren't having it. Nothing was going to keep Eddie away from you.

He tried so hard to win your parents over, mainly your dad. Since your mom softened up when she got to know him better. Your dad was a different story. Your dad didn't like his look.

The tattoos, hair, and music he was strictly against. Eddie was used to being treated like that. He was used to people judging him before they really knew him. That doesn't mean he still didn't try to get your father's approval because he did. All the time, with little to no luck.

You noticed Eddie had been in his garage all day. He said he had to give his bike a quick tune-up, but that usually only takes a few hours. He's been out there since this morning. You look at the clock, and it's now going on 4 pm. Julie has been home now for just an hour or so. She wanted to get ready in time to introduce you to her boyfriend.

You know he's nervous about meeting Julie's boyfriend. He doesn't want to seem like some weird overbearing parent. This is her first serious relationship, it seems like. Eddie wants to be protective, but he doesn't want to scare the guy off. He doesn't want your daughter to hate him.

A loud knocking knocking at the front door tells you he's here. Before you could even leave the kitchen to answer it, Eddie somehow is already there.

He swings open the door and is met with a guy not much taller than him. He has short dark hair with a denim vest similar to his old one. Various pins and patches littered all over it. He was wearing an old Slayer shirt underneath with black boots.

Eddie eyed him curiously. "Whooo are you?"

"Oh, I'm um, Noah...Julie's boyfriend." He held out to his to shake Eddie's. His other hand held some flowers in it.

Foot steps come running up next to them both, and it took Eddie a moment to process who they belonged to.

"Dad, this is Noah." Julie took his hand and brought him inside.

"Right-nice to meet you." He finally shook his hand back as he walked past him.

Eddie was stunned. The second he saw him, he got instant flashbacks of when he was younger going to meet your parents for the first time. He wanted to hate the guy. He wants to be this tough, hard ass to him. But now he can't bring himself to do any of that.

"Eddie, come help me with dinner." You whispered.

"Yeah - Yeah, okay, I'm coming." He shook his head and smiled to himself.

"He bought me flowers." You pointed at the vase holding the bouquet.

"So i buy you flowers all the time." Eddie shrugged, still trying to keep up the facade that he doesn't like the guy.

He grabbed a knife and helped cut up some onions. He looked out the window in front of him and watched your daughter and her boyfriend outside. You stopped what you were doing to focus on them, too. You saw how Eddie's eyes had softened when Noah put a little buttercup flower behind her ear.

You and him instantly had memories flooding in from your earlier years as a couple. Where Eddie would find a pretty flower and put it behind your ear. Or how he would lay with you for hours looking up at the stars. You could see he was getting a little emotional about it. More memories of picnics together in the back of his van.

"You gonna cut those onions or keep zoning out?" You nudged him.

"Sorry, I'm ju- I'm just thinking." He spoke quietly.

You went over to him and rubbed his back. "About?"

"I'm supposed to be a dick head to him, but I can't bring myself to be that way" Eddie kept looking out the window, watching Noah with your daughter.

"Who said you had to be that way?" You looked out to where he was.

He shook his head. "No one... I'm just being over dramatic like usual."

After dinner was over. Noah and Julie were sitting on the couch together while Eddie was sitting in his chair. You were busy getting dessert ready for everyone.

"Hey dad, did I tell you Noah is in a band." Julie giggled.

Eddies face lit up. "No, you didn't. do you play?"

"Uhh, well, I used to drum, but now I sing." Noah informed him. He acted a little shy to even have it brought up so suddenly. He felt put on the spot.

He nods "I used to be in a band too."

"Really?" Noah moved a little closer towards Eddie leaving Julie behind at the other end of the couch.

"Yep, I used to play guitar and sing, actually." Eddie smiled and looked proud to be talking about his former band days again.

"I have some old stuff in my garage where my band "toured" for a bit and my old gear." He pointed behind him.

"Can we check it out?" Noah looked like a kid in a candy store when Eddie mentioned his old gear.

"Follow me," He grunted while getting out of his chair. His knees popped as he stood up. Years of hard work finally taking its toll on his body.

Julie just sat there watching her boyfriend and her dad, leaving her all alone in the living room. You were busy in the kitchen cutting cake and putting the pieces onto plates.

"Guys, dessert is ready!" You jogged to the living room to find it empty except for your daughter.

She rolled her eyes "they're in the garage."

You couldn't help but chuckle.

All day, you had anticipated this first meeting to be a disaster. Now you have your husband and your daughters boyfriend playing guitar together. You know Eddie didn't have a mean bone in his body. Even at his cruelest, he was still considered nice to most.

"Think dad likes him?" Julie crossed her arms, looking annoyed. She was being sarcastic. You could tell by her tone.

You pressed your lips into a thin line, trying hard not to laugh. "He hates him, I'm sure."

You could hear them both screeching from out back. Heavy metal loudly playing, and Eddie's old guitar plugged in. You and your daughter sat eating dessert, trying to drown out all the music. The night ended with Noah being invited back over next weekend. While Eddie was upstairs putting ice on his now sore neck. He forgot his age for a few hours and became that young twenty something man again.