#but goddamn that feeling after seeing that she commented on it is? just absolute pure love and adoration and devotion and obsession for her

[simp4mothman]

🥰

[goodgirlofglory]

Hey bestie, Happy Fourth of July! ❤️🤍💙🦅

Aka, happy birthday Steven Grant Rogers. 🪖💪

Usually, my go to reads consist of Bucky, but today I am feeling patriotic. So my ask includes reader giving steve a sloppy toppy 😏 💦 under the fireworks after an eventful birthday

But not just any blowjob, this is the first one that steve has gotten in 70+ yrs because he’s a grandpa that didn’t venture out into the modern world until he met reader. So now, he really understands why Bucky enjoyed his time with the ladies back in the 40’s 🇺🇸

And this blowjob in particular has him gripping whatever he can in his fists, has him moaning like a little boy, his mouth drooling, his eyes rolling, his soul leaving his body. 🙉 and reader is just talking him through it like the good girl she is 😊

Anyways, thank you for listening to my slutty asks. I hope you have a good day/evening where you are!! 🌸❤️

Bestie!!!🫶🎀🦋

Happy birthday to both Steve Rogers and the US of A🎉🎉✨️✨️✨️🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅

I'm definitely in my Bucky corner nowadays too, but there's no hardship revisiting dear Stevie boy, so in the name of patriotism, here's a little somethin somethin😉😌

Absolutely LOVE the prompt (and your slutty asks are always a fav)!!! Things got a little out of hand, so Steve ended up reeeallyyy subby in this, but I kinda like it, don't you?

Enjoy, sweetie, have a good day/night wherever you are🫶🫶🦋

In the name of patriotism / One-shot

Pairing: Inexperienced!Sub!Steve Rogers x Experienced!Soft!Domme!reader

Word count: 2,5k

Warnings: SMUUUUTT, oral (m receiving), soft domme reader, semi-public sex (oral behind the trees while there’s a party in the garden, ball-sucking, deepthroating, messy head, cum swallowing woop woop, dirty talk. Steve is very subby in this.

Summary: See delicious prompt above

“A-are you sure you’re okay w-with missing the f-f-fire-w-works?” he asks again, breath significantly more labored than just a minute ago - when you’d pinned him to the tree and gotten on your bare knees in the grass. 

As you look up at his face, an explosion of glittering gold and red fireworks fills the sky above him, illuminating his strong nose, high cheekbones and blond hair tousled by his own hands raking through it. You consider his words, feeling his bulge throb under your hands - where you have them paused at his zipper. The belt you just undid hangs limp on each side of your hands, signaling how fucking close you are to the one thing you’ve been thinking about for the last hour. 

Another glittering explosion in the sky, this one gold and silver, and his chest is heaving. 

“View’s pretty great from here,” you say, preening as you see his furrowed expression break up in helpless laughter. He shaks his head a little, but his cock throbs again, betraying how he really feels about that comment. 

It was by pure chance you walked by as Steve said it. You’d been on your way back from the bathroom when you’d halted outside the living room in Sam’s house and heard the boy’s talk through the crack in the door.

“Wait, nothing?” Sam asked incredulously. 

Steve’s voice came a moment later, sounding sheepish and maybe a bit abashed. 

“No. Not since the war. Sure, a kiss here and there, but you know me. I don’t get out much,” Steve’d said apologetically, and the resigned way he said it had set something off inside you. 

If there were three thing Steve Rogers was not to feel, it was inadequate, undeserving and unsatisfied. It was the whole reason you’d planned this combined birthday and 4th of July-celebration, goddamn it. For Steve to feel celebrated and loved, surrounded by loved ones, doing things he enjoyed. It had been an absolute banger of an evening, and you just got the idea of how to make the night even better for him. Okay, so maybe it wasn’t completely selfless. You did have a big ol’ crush on the man. Who didn’t? And if he hadn’t had a single sexual encounter in 70+ years, you were the perfet candidate to change that. 

So here you are, knees soaking in the dirt, hands dragging the zipper of his faded, blue jeans all the way down, your own breath growing choppy as you stare at the gray boxers hiding the thing you want most. There is already a wet patch in the fabric, right where the tip of his cock is outlined. Your mouth fucking salivates at the sight. 

He shifts where he stands, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides, and you bask in how impatient he is, how much you can sense he wants it, even if he’s giving you every chance of an out. Polite, chivalrous man - how can he not see you’re dying to gag on his cock behind a tree in Sam’s garden - while the rest of the party’s conveniently occupied watching the fireworks? 

“I just - um - you just have to know I-I-I’m not pressuring you or -” he starts, stuttering so adorably, and his words dies on a gasp of breath as you reach up and lay your hand atop his boxer-clad cock, feeling it jump at the contact. He is so sensitive.

“Don’t you want it?” you ask. It’ll be agony having to tear yourself away at this point, but you’ll do it if he says no of course. You can tell he won’t though. 

“No! I mean yes! I do, I fucking do - God, so much - just-”

“Then be quiet,” you say softly. It’s honestly astounding seeing him so flustered, stumbling over his words like his mind is already going under. Big, strong man, Captain America himself, putty in your hands, fumbling and blushing, and his cock isn’t even out yet. It’s making you fucking soak your panties. 

His head thumps back against the tree and he exhales like he’s relieved. Relieved it’s actually happening despite him doing his part and checking your consent. Like you weren’t the one dragging him into the bushes and telling him to stay still, winking at him while you kneeled before him. 

A small sound escapes him as you pull his boxers down, letting his cock spring free before tucking the band of his boxers all the way under his balls - so you have proper access to him. You’ll accept no less, even given you have little space and even less time to do this before someone’s gonna come looking for you - it’s Steve’s party after all - and you’re the host. 

He’s fucking huge, intimidatingly so, even for you. He’s pale, bright pink on the tip, hair neatly trimmed by the base. He’s long and thick, prominent veins on the underside leading up to a pronounced head with a tight frenulum you can’t wait to tease with the tip of your tongue. You hold him gently by the base as you examine him, and a clear drop of precome trickle out the slit at the tip and down his shaft as you watch. It’s unreal how gorgeous he is. 

“Perfect,” you mutter, mostly to yourself, and meet his eyes as his head whips down to see you. A groan seems to tear itself from him as he lays eyes on you gazing at his cock from eye level. He ducks his head a little, almost like he’s trying to hide from the praise, and you see in the flashing light of the next firework that there’s a tell-tale blush high on his cheekbones. 

Oh, he liked that. 

You take him into your mouth as you hold his gaze, making him pay attention to every inch of himself disappearing slowly in between your lips. His mouth falls open as you work him deeper, tongue working to coat him in spit, cheeks hollowing in to add suction everytime you pull him out. You command he watches it all, and lets you see exactly what it does to him. 

His brows crunch together and rise on his forehead, his mouth gasping wider open, his face contorts almost to a grimace and you eagerly eat it all up as you work your mouth over him again and again. You gasp off him, and he gasps with you, sounding almost pained as you tease him with your tongue, running it from root to tip and back.

He throws his head back only to whip it down seconds later, unable to keep his eyes away from it, body shuddering each time you swipe the tip of your tongue from his frenulum to his tip, swiping at the spittle of precome that it coaxes out each time. 

You’re going pretty slow for someone who has such little time as you do, but you can tell it does it for him. He’s sensitive beyond all reason, and you know just a little more of this and some naughty words will get him right off that edge. 

“You like it?” you ask, moving your mouth down to take his balls into your mouth. 

He chokes on a groan as you latch on to one testicle, rolling it into your mouth and releasing it with a suctioning pop. His hands fists at his side before unclenching and reaching behind him, grabbing at the tree like it can save him. 

“Yes,” he gasps, desperately. 

You take his spit covered cock in your hand and jerk him off, fast and hard right off the bat, watching with preening satisfaction as his eyes clamp shut and his jaw drops, hips shifting restlessly, itching to thrust into your hand like he just can’t help but chase the pleasure. 

“Good. I want you to come for me. Don’t hold back when you reach that edge, give it all to me,” you say, voice deliciously raspy from taking him so deep, and he’s already nodding before you’re halfway through the sentence, putty in your hands. 

The fireworks above are going off full force now, painting the Captain in flashing colours of gold, red, silver, blue, green and purple, illuminating him like a fucking work of art as he gasps and groans, bites his lips red, saliva coating them and running out the side of his mouth to trickle down to his jaw. He’s such an open book, honest, body shameless in its pleasure even as he blushes bright red as he meets your eyes, seeing you staring unabashedly as you keep jerking him, suckling the other testicle. 

You take him back into your mouth, pressing him all the way back and into your throat. He sounds almost alarmed as you take him down your throat again and again, pushing your limits to give him that ultimate pleasure, working what you can’t get into your mouth with a spit covered hand. 

To his credit, he stays almost perfectly still like you told him to, only moving his hips whatever inches he can’t seem to control - and also trembling more and more as he nears his peak, moaning almost continually. 

“Fuck,” he swears at one point, and his hand flies out to tangle in your hair, holding on with a grip that alludes to unmatched violence but keeps to a desperate cling instead, a simple gesture to keep himself grounded. You groan around his cock, encouraging and maybe a bit patronizing, even as you gag around him before pulling off with a gasp. 

“Come on, baby, I’m right here. I want it all,” you say in between suckling and messily kissing the tip of his cock, jerking him for real now, hauling him to the edge. 

He whimpers at your words, and you relish the vulnerability of it, how he gives himself to you so entirely.

“I want your come, sweet thing, I can feel you want to give it to me,” you say, earning another desperate whimper. 

“Be good and come for me. That’s it, I’m right here, give it to me,” you babble, and his hips are thrusting into your wet fist now, mindlessly chasing that edge as his eyes lock with yours, pupils blown wide, mind empty but for your words and his need to come. It’s an absolutely gorgeous fucking sight and you don’t want to go a single day without it from now on. 

You take him back down your throat and he comes fast. How can he not, it’s his first blowie in 70+ years, maybe ever - you haven’t asked him yet. Also, you’d be insulted if he didn’t come fast, given how much work you’re putting in, taking him all the way into your throat and drenching both his cock, balls and your own chin in your saliva. 

You feel the way his muscles tense up long before it happens, like his whole body is going to combust on the spot, and then this tiniest, most vulnerable sound leaves him, like a choked whimper mixed with an almost woeful sigh. And then his cock is pulsing deliciously in your mouth, throbbing as he explodes, and you hum low and long in encouragement as he gives you everything he’s got, shaking and trembling through it all. Bark splinters off the tree he’s pinned against as his fists clench through it, and his cum is thick and salty and perfect on your tongue, coming out in such intense, forceful spurts you nearly choke on it. 

The fireworks are dwindling a bit in the sky, but you can still enjoy the sight of Steve going limp, head thumping back against the tree as he puts a hand through his hair, the other coming forth to cradle your jaw as you keep his throbbing cock in your mouth long after you’ve swallowed all the cum.

You gently release him, coo at him when he hisses from the sensitivity, and tuck him gently back into his pants, doing up the fly and belt before kissing his bulge lovingly, hoping for a swift reunion. 

Ever the gentleman, he helps you with gentle hands as you get up on your feet and before you can really think on what comes next, he’s kissing you. He cradles you close with one arm around your shoulder while the other cups your jaw and his embrace is warm and tender and needy and perfect. You put your arms around his torso, holding him tight and kissing him back, letting his tongue snake into your mouth, loving that he isn’t averse to his own taste. 

You kiss long and sweetly, unrushed, and you think maybe this should’ve come before the blowjob but Steve doesn’t seem too unhappy about the turn of events, turning you around to pin you against the tree as he plasters himself against you.  Are you tripping, or is he hard again? 

The chatter of the party comes back to life, and you break the kiss to murmur against Steve’s lips. 

“We should get back to the rest before they get suspicious.”

“Why?” Steve asks casually, and it’s your time to blush from the blatant lack of care he has for the possibility of people finding you like this. You giggle and slap his chest playfully. 

“Because, it’s your party and I’m the host,” you say, but it’s a nonsense reason. You could just stay like this until everyone’s left and it’d be okay with you. Maybe you could suck him some more. 

“Would you like to stay after? I’d like…um…” he seems to struggle to put to words what he wants, kissing you hard before just saying “more”. 

You giggle again and he smiles against your lips. 

“You’re so good with your words, Captain” you tease. 

He groans and his arms pull at your hips to grind his bulge into your stomach. 

“Nothin' like you. Fuck, that fucking mouth of yours drove me crazy,” he groans, never pulling back more than just enough to get his words out between your mingling breaths. “I’d like to return the favor.”

And a thrill goes up your spine and shivers down it at the promise in his voice, the breathless desire that manifests there, and you nod eagerly just as Sam’s voice cuts through the chatter out in the yard, calling for both you and Steve.

[idkwhatimdoinghere1655]

Australian GP 2024!

Mads' Race Recap!

Oh my jesus lord christ alive this was a goddamn good day. OK, I'll try to remain calm, but that is VERY difficult under the circumstances of my 3 best boys getting the podiums. But, I shall do this in order of constructors. Also, thanks to @lipringlrh for edging me through the entire bloody race cause she knew what happened, I swore I was going to be sick.

Red Bull - Nice qualis from Max, and I can't say I wasn't happy with Checo's three place penalty, just because I definitely think it helped the main race. Everything was all honky dory, then Carlos overtook and I was just like 'OK Carlitos, sure'. Then Max was slowing down... Then Lando and Charles passed, and the everyone else. The brakes were smoking, I was screaming out of pure joy. Now, don't take this the wrong way, I love Max. BUT, this provided my boys some very good opportunities. I reckon if Checo hadn't gotten the penalty, he could've tried to pip in front, but I won't dwell on what didn't happen.

Ferrari - WE GOT A FUCKING FERRARI 1-2 BABYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!!!! HOLY FUCKING SHIT WHEN I TELL YOU I LOST MY GODDAMN MIND IT IS UNPARALLELED! Anyway, I'll be constructive, for a moment, at least. Charles and Carlos had some mental quali pace, so how they didn't get pole is a little crazy to me. Alas, none of that matters now. The second I saw Max go, I was like 'oh fuck we've got it'. Carlos DOTD and race winner, barely 2 weeks after having his appendix out and he doesn't have a seat?! Absolutely diabolical. It was sweet how he went back to singing Smooth Operator, I was waiting for it. When I heard the commentators saying that they may swap the positions so that Charles could lead the WDC, I was shitting it. Yes, I wanted Charles to win, but I didn't want it to be because of something stupid like team orders. Charles can win without needing it handing to him, and it would've been so damn disrespectful to Carlos. Every year that a team has finished 1-2 in Melbourne, they've gone on to win both championships... It's our year, I'm telling you.

So happy to see them back at the top, both of them did incredibly, Charles was pulling pace out of God knows where for that fastest lap. And the strategy was good???? Like, bringing Charles in when he said he needed to? Listening??? Nice stuff. Hearing the Spanish and Italian anthems was absolutely amazing. Also, I feel like this really highlights how special Ferrari is. The team were screaming that Italian anthem like there was nothing more important to them, and they were all hugging and having a whale of a time. It was just so fucking nice to see Charlandos up there, so fucking good. So so so so so happy, Forza Ferrari. Everyone is a Ferrari fan.

McLaren - OK, so, quali wise, Lando kinda came out of nowhere. I feel like Oscar was just... There? We were racing, it was the 'rarri 1-2 with Oscar in P3 at his home race, it was lovely stuff. Then they swapped the positions. Can someone please tell me why they swapped the positions? Pretty sure it was something to do with either less pace or more recent pitting or something, but I'm not 100% sure. As much as I love Lando, I wanted him to stay down in P3 just for that Ferrari 1-2. I needed it. The last few laps, I was looking at the delta between Charles and Lando, and I was relieved to see that it wasn't changing. Super happy for Lando, Oscar did loads better at his home race, nice one for all.

Mercedes - What the hell is going on here? Like, Lewis' qualis weren't good, George's were fine, nothing bad but nothing spectacular. Now the race was something else. I can't really blame Lewis for his problem, since it was a mechanical issue obviously as opposed to driver error. From what I saw of George, he didn't even do anything that bad. One minute he was fine, the next he was turned on his side. I may not want Merc to get points, but I don't want a crash to be the reason why. He's OK, so that's all that really matters. But, as for the car in general, there's something wrong with it. It's not just a one week thing where it's a bit off, this has been consistent. Yes, George had a nice P3 in qualis the other week, but the pace just wasn't there at all in the race. I just don't know what's going on with them at the minute, and the fact that they're so behind the Ferraris and McLarens is concerning.

Aston Martin - Pretty mediocre all together, I've seen varied opinions on Fernando's 20 second pen. Some said he was kinda to blame for George's crash, from what I saw, he was just avoiding George after the fact. I don't really know, so I won't comment until I watch another replay. But yeah, nothing too special, but they do need to up their game.

VCARB/RB/REDBULLSHITTYEDITION - Yuki Tsunoda. Well bloody done babe. Got extra points thanks to the Fernando penalty, even if I didn't really see him during the race like... at all. But, he must've done a pretty damn good job to end up all the way in eighth before the end of the race. Now, Daniel. What is this man doing? 12th is not bad, but when your teammate with less experience in the same car is doing that much better than you in your home race, you know something's up. I love Danny Ric, but Carlos is more likely to get that Red Bull seat than he is at this rate. Slightly disappointed, I won't lie.

Haas - Both drivers getting points? OK, OK. I actually think Kevin could've gotten higher in qualis if Checo hadn't impeded, but I'm glad Checo was put down on the grid. Overall though, nice drive from both, nice to see them get points.

Williams - Right, realistically, what harm would it have done to let Logan drive? It wasn't his fault, Alex has fucked it at that circuit so many times at the same place, and Alex didn't even get points. It wasn't fair, and he took it like an absolute champ. #justiceforlogiebear #cancelwilliams

Kick Sauber - These guys need to fix their pitstops I swear to God. How many times are they going to get that wheel nut stuck on? They did 1 good one for Valtteri, but they screwed up all the others. Zhou's pitlane start was unfortunate after it looked like his front wing just... fell off. Someone said the car reminds them of a wheelie bin, I completely agree and can't see it any differently.

Alpine - Pierre 's fault for getting the 5 second penalty, but other than that, they were shit as usual. Pierre was running pretty high for a little while, then just kind of... fell back. I can't help but laugh at them, I know it's mean, I just find it so bloody comical. I think FC Versailles is just a distraction, but he has just invested in a Tier 3 league, unheard of French football team... Nice one, I guess.

[emergetransformed]

Okay so I kind of. hate. this

like what she’s saying is all good in itself in a way but. harm reduction was created by drug users who were not sorry about it, who knew they were already whole entire human beings who deserve to live despite the world being extremely hostile to them, not just people who might someday want to “get clean”. (which is great, but, not all that’s going on here!!!!)

I am an addict—socially acceptable form! alcohol! not what she’s talking about!—-and my closest loved ones are “addicts”—-NOT socially acceptable form, ~8x day IV fentanyl users literally, that she is talking about. so I feel like I can. comment. that. oh my god

illicit drug use is an axis of oppression and I don’t even feel comfortable saying “addiction” usually because like I’m a person experiencing addiction, but I’m not experiencing oppression — alcohol is regulated so I always know and can choose what I’m putting in my body and I will never be discriminated against for use of it unless my actual behavior is negative or unsafe to others —- so, I continue being judged on my actions just like everyone. I have full human rights. illicit drug users don’t have ANY rights. NONE. absolutely none. it doesn’t matter how they act, if anyone finds out they use they can be immediately fired or evicted or kicked out of anything and usually socially ostracized, no matter how they actually behave as a person! they also don’t get any control over what they’re using no matter how much they might want to have that control —- my best fucking friend has these horrific wounds all over their body and god knows what happening inside their body not because of the opioids that they’re dependent on, but because of xylazine, something that’s being mixed into the illicit drug supply here and that got DRAMATICALLY, dramatically worse several months ago after some big police busts of dealers who sold shit with less of that in it. If I could have anything in the goddamn world my best friend could just go to a doctor and be prescribed pharmaceutically pure sterile fentanyl. that’s what I want for the “addicts” in my life, and beyond that they can make their own decisions just like I am and they’ll be fine or not just like every human.

and oh my god. what treatment is actually like. oh my god I don’t think everyone needs it but it should actually be LITERALLY ANY FUCKING GOOD and right now it is NOT. it’s a travesty it’s disgusting. this isn’t to discourage anyone from trying something but it’s a horrible unspeakable injustice the way it is right now. the next thing I want is treatment that’s fucking good or helpful or not extremely dehumanizing, and I think a prerequisite of that ever happening is accepting that not every one who uses a drug you deem unacceptable needs fucking conversion therapy

I hate shit like this that sounds. So. condescending. with any other group experiencing oppression we agree that that group is experts in their own experience but this doesn’t ever extend to illicit drug users for some reason. And it really needs to. I recommend the podcast Crackdown which is a radio show about the drug war made by drug users. I recommend challenging your preconceptions about people who use drugs you see as scary

Advice if you love/care about an addict but they're not ready for abstinence. This is meeting people where they're at- the most important part of harm reduction

[after-witch]

Thanks For Your Donation! [Yandere Shigaraki x Twitch Streamer Reader]

Title: Thanks For Your Donation! [Yandere Shigaraki x Twitch Streamer Reader]

Synopsis:  request, “Please I love that troupe where Shigaraki gets obsessed with a twitch stream and deluded himself into believing they’re together until he finally takes her home 🥰”

notes: yandere, kidnapping mention, creeper

Shigaraki glances down at the notification on his phone and his chest suddenly feels tight, anxiety blooming across his skin which makes him want to scratch, scratch, scratch. Your Twitch is live again--fuck, he can’t miss it.  He rapidly presses the save button on his Switch, impatient to devote his entire attention to his phone screen--to you.

But fuck, do you make it hard on him lately. You stream so much more now that you’ve gotten followers, gotten popular; donations have become a regular feature rather than something surprising, but those other guys, the ones who flash big donations and write insipid comments, aren’t really fans of yours. Not like he is. He’s been watching and donating and praising you since you were a nobody, a nothing streamer with barely 10 viewers per stream.

That was back when you used to just play games with your cheap little pink earbuds and your messy room behind you. When you used to feel more real, used to express yourself more openly. 

You stumbled over words and reacted naturally, which meant you were boring--or you would be boring, to someone that didn’t know you like he did. Sometimes the small circle of viewers would dwindle down to just Shigaraki and you’d talk to him, only him, replying to his chat messages with earnest honesty. Smiles. Jokes. It was so goddamn cute. He always donated one last time before signing off for the night and you would curl your fingers in a heart and cheerfully bid him good night.

But now that you’re getting big, you’re more polished, more presentable, more popular. And less… like you, he thinks.  You cleared out some little room just for your gaming streams and you have a nice headset now, a background that he can tell you carefully set up to create just the right vibe. You don’t have time for one-on-one convos with your viewers, because your streams never dwindle down, never fizzle out until you’re left awkwardly signing off. 

They’re full-fledged productions, now, whether you’re gaming or doing a Q&A or--these have become one of his favorites--doing a cute yet clearly rehearsed “sleepy morning” stream in your pajamas, picture-perfect coffee in your hand, where you muse about life and love and strawberry pancakes.

It’s cute, he admits, but it’s also too rehearsed. He misses the real you, the real personality that you used to let shine through when hardly anybody was watching. You would only show the real you for him, but now that he’s just one amongst a crowd, you keep yourself protected. He understands. You have an image to maintain, after all. 

It’s even changed your gaming habits. Now when you game, you react so dramatically, bordering on ridiculous. You would never scream at a horror game before--sure, you might cringe, or admit that your heart is pounding like a hammer, but you weren’t cartoonish. But it’s what those losers watching want--they want you to open your mouth so big when something scary happens in a game so they can screencap it and imagine you’re opening your mouth to do something… else. They want you to scream girlishly at jump scares or dramatically fawn over cute guy characters. And of course, they want you to react when they donate--they want to hear those sweet little words: “Thank you sooo much, you’re my number one fan!”

It’s your new little catch phrase, something you’ve integrated into every stream now. It’s even in your intro--“Hello, all my number one fans!”  It’s an in-joke now between your followers. All part of your brand.

Shigaraki knows you don’t mean to hurt him by calling other guys your number one fan. But it does. But it’s okay. He doesn’t hold it against you. He knows that you don’t really mean it, when you’re saying it to them; he’s smart, he can tell the difference in how you react to his donations versus the donations from the absolute shitheads who watch your streams. 

You mean it when you call him your number one fan. It’s the only way he can get you to say his name, now that you’re too busy to really respond properly to the chat. And it’s fine, really, nothing to get too upset over. Because when you finally meet in person, he’ll explain that he’s the only number one fan that you’ll ever need.

He jumps into the stream, annoyed at having missed the beginning, but what he sees on the screen instantly melts away any emotion other than pure adoration and obsession. You’re very… pink today. A pink oversized sweater and pink cat headphones and even glossy pink lipstick that makes your mouth look like candy. 

None of the freaks watching the stream know this, but Shigaraki is the reason why you feel comfortable wearing pink. He remembers one of your early streams, where you wondered out loud if it was cliche to be a girl gamer who likes pink; he’d told you that it was fine, and you’d thanked him. Who knows, without his sage advice, you might be wearing clothing you didn’t like. Wouldn’t that be a shame? He makes a mental note to remind you to thank him, somewhere down the line. Maybe when you were out on a date and wearing a short pink skirt and urging him to take a sip of your vanilla-cherry milkshake, letting him put his lips right on your straw.

A date… the thought makes him feel tight all over. Would you date him? I mean, you were practically dating already, truth be told. It just needed to be formalized. He’d spent so much money on you, and in the early days he knew exactly what his donations bought because you’d happily chatter on about getting a new game or perfume or stack of light novels because of his generosity. Of course, you didn’t talk as much as you used to--well, practically never, except when he donated--but that couldn’t be helped. You were stretched thin, being pulled in directions by these so-called-fans who watched your streams but didn’t give a fuck about the real you underneath. The real you that Shigaraki knows all too well.

Would you date him? No, more than that--did you love him? The way he loves you? The thought of the real you, the one who didn’t bite her lip oh-so-obviously in a bid to look adorable, the one who didn’t mind eating messy lunches while she gamed, the one who always always made sure to wish Shigaraki good night, makes him want to find out.

He rarely participates in the chat nowadays. There’s no point, when you rarely respond to anything other than answers to questions you ask, and even then you cherry pick from the countless replies that pop up in seconds. Donating is the best way to catch your eye, to hear those sweet words from your lips that you only mean when he donates.

But something makes him want to try, today. Maybe it’s all his nostalgia for your early days, the early connection you made that is still going strong. Maybe it’s the allure of the glossy pink lipstick smeared across your lips, making him think about how you might taste of cherries or strawberries or pure sugar.

Whatever it is, it’s pulling his fingers towards the chat, and before he knows it, he’s rapidly typed and hit enter. The second he does he begins to scratch furiously at his neck and he can feel the blood even as his message is quickly dominated by other messages in the chat, inane bullshit.

Tomura001: sry for the sudden question but I need to ask you something personal do you love me?

As a quick thought, he makes a donation, just to ease the nervousness that was flooding through him with every passing millisecond.

He hardly blinks as he stares intently at you, sitting in your chair with your pink lips and pink headphone and soft skin and--you glance over, where he knows you keep a larger screen to see the chat.

And suddenly, you’re speaking.

“Awww,” you say, your voice sweet and flattered, even. “Tomura! Of course I love you! You’re my number one fan!”

He can hear his heartbeat in his ears. You do love him. I mean, he knew this already; it’s the little things, like how you still have the light novels you bought with his money on your bookshelf and you thank him for his donations like you mean it and you feel confident enough to wear pink, all thanks to him. But he’s never heard it from your mouth before. From your lips. Soft and pink and inviting.

You love him.

You love him.

You love him.

He sets the phone down, a rare occurrence when he’s glued to your streams. But the emotions rushing through him are so strong that he’s worried it will slip out of his fingers and fall, crack on the floor.

He loves you. You love him. You belong to him. So why are you wasting your fucking time streaming to a bunch of worthless losers who don’t care about you? He can buy you the things you want, the things you like. He can clear out some space in his room so you can game together. And he knows girls like things clean, so he’ll even throw out the used soda cans and food wrappers before he brings you home.  You’ll appreciate that, just like you appreciated his donations and late-night practically empty stream chats. You’ll be happy with him. And he can see you and hear you and touch you in a way that he’s been dreaming about (and you’ve been dreaming about, he knows) for ages.

All he has to do is find your address--easy enough--and you’ll be living it up with him before you know it. 

He chews on his lip and picks up his phone. You’ve moved on--you had to, didn’t you, to keep those viewers donating--but he can tell by the way your lips are pursued that you’re thinking about him.

Your number one fan.

[forestwater87]

Okay, for all of you who don't feel like watching Miles RP as David

Here are some of my favorite quotes. Context may be added if I feel like it. Reactions are my goblin brain screaming. All of these came from a discord so if they don't make sense . . . see goblin brain comment.

(That link should start directly at the point where he becomes David; if it doesn't, skip to 1:40:33)

In roughly chronological order:

David: "Teachers are sort of like camp counselors during the rest of the year."

The thing is David is absolutely up his own ass enough to think this.

David: "Trail mix is expensive!"

^ said to show he understands why not everyone can donate to the charity for teachers. Very adorable, am crying.

David's "ooooh" seeing one dude was extremely non-heterosexual. Fucking bicon. Him losing his mind that one of the arenas is called "Survey camp"

David: "A person's hitting me -- I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry this is just pretend!"

This is just canonically how David plays video games. Either this or he's unwilling to commit violence at all, but I'll defer to Miles.

David: "That's very goat of you!"

Spencer: "Is David popular amongst his campers?"

David: "I like to think so! There's only 3 staff members, so I'm definitely in everyone's top 3."

"That also means you're in the bottom 3."

David: "Well, I choose not to think of it that way."

(I have to keep adding reacts so you can tell when one quote ends and another begins. Judge not lest ye be judged)

I think the other person in the stream is named Spencer. Friend of Miles. I know literally nothing else about him and am not even confident on those facts.

Every time he says something so non-David in his David voice I die: "I have a lot of grenades!"

David: "Oh my goodness, would you look at this beautiful scenery! Can we hike that mountain?"

This is so goddamn cute. I am dying. Miles looked at his fans and said "they will eat tonight" and I am so relieved.

David: "Not to be a couple of Greedy Garys, but I say we get this [care package] and then I'll drop another one!"

The fact that Miles is grinning like a lunatic the entire time is very good. (Also if this is formatted badly then I'm sorry but not all that sorry. I'm doing my best and David would be proud of me.)

David: "Didja getim? Didja getim? didja getim? How 'bout now?"

Spencer: "I didn't get 'em."

David: "Well, you tried your best and that's all that matters."

He calls healing "a little health kiss." I'm not sure why but it's very important to me.

David: [while jumping to murder someone] "Hi! Scuse me!"

(i just need something to separate the quotes okay)

David: "Well you know what gang, we did our best. You don't always win the 3-legged race. You did a wonderful job!"

Then there's a bit where they talk about Spencer's time at summer camp:

David: "ooooh hand-holding's pretty serious!"

David is too pure.

David: [dreamily] "Did you fall in love, Spencer? A summer love?" [puts hands up to his face]

Then there's the fact that David/Miles gets to pick where they play each round, and he keeps insisting on going to the one called "Survey Camp" every single time because it has the word "camp" in it.

David: "Now, I don't like to disagree, but . . . I was thinking we could go . . . to Survey Camp!"

Spencer reminds him that technically since David's the one with the power to choose, his opinion is the only one that matters:

David: "Everyone's opinion matters. And my opinion is we're going to camp."

David just steamrolling over Spencer's interests is very good. There are these little selfish nuggets sprinkled in among the wholesomeness that really capture the full David experience.

David: "Well, he's climbing up . . . he's coming my direction . . . oh, he looks scary . . ."

Spencer: "Is he coming towards me?"

David: "Oooh, I don't know. I'm dead!"

The positivity is relentless. I think Miles said on twitter afterwards that this whole thing was exhausting and I can see why. Being David is no picnic . . .

David: "I have a question: do we have to shoot each other in this game?"

And then a few seconds later:

David: "I'm just wondering if maybe there's a way we can, you know, help others. Talk through our issues."

And a few seconds after that:

David: "I was asking if they wanted to be friends in the game!"

I believe that moved killed him, too. Precious.

Also we're interrupting the real Miles!David content to share something my friend suggested to me while I was watching this and giving her quotes; she said that maybe David just calls everything camp to make life more fun, and then sent me this imaginary exchange that actually killed me all the way to death:

David: Gwen Santos would you go to marriage camp with me

Gwen: I'm going to have to change this story when I tell everyone

It made me laugh quite a bit.

Anyway, back to the video!

Spencer: "How do you sign up for [Camp Campbell]?"

David: "Well, um, you can fax, uh, an application to CameronCCampbell@hotmail.realwebsite.noreallyrealwebsite.com. And . . . you can know that myself and Gwen and Quartermaster and sometimes Mr. Campbell will do our best to make sure they get what they need! Which more than anything is love and support. And friendship."

Spencer: "How many dollars does this camp cost?"

David: "You know . . . it is, um . . ."

And then the conversation switches subjects and David breathes a sigh of relief.

Very shortly after this he changed his character from a woman (she was wearing a yellow shirt, which he liked because the campers wear yellow shirts) to "a Forward Scout with a positive attitude!"

"I like his style."

Spencer: "Does everybody abuse David verbally?"

David: "You know, sometimes people have harsh words. Mostly Max, and Neil, and Gwen, and Quartermaster, and Nurf."

Spencer: "Did you just list almost everyone?"

David: "Mmm . . . I'd say maybe a third."

Poor David. Somebody please protect him.

Spencer: "Yeah, I think people abuse David. I get that vibe. Or at least, I feel it in my heart. Like I wanna put ants in your bunk or something."

David: "Well, I think that says more about maybe some of the hurt you're carrying with you. And sometimes when people don't know how to process that, they act out. Do you want some trail mix?"

David just said his favorite part of trail mix is the raisins which is so cute. "They have a little bit of salt on them, which isn't typical for a raisin."

And he keeps telling chatters to watch their language.

David: "Who is my favorite camper? Aww, you know I couldn't pick a favorite! . . . But I know who has the most potential, even if he doesn't want to admit it."

I KNEW IT!!!!!

I've been saying for years that David doesn't have a favorite and gravitates towards the ones he thinks need him the most AND I FINALLY GOT ONE RIGHT!

David: "Well you know, Gwen swears and that's okay."

shipping intensifies

David: [gasp] "The moss is growing on the north side of the rock!"

Every time he nerds out about weird shit in the game I gain 3 seconds to my life.

Spencer: "Did you get teabagged?"

David: "What's that?"

Spencer: "It's where somebody places their most intimate bits on you for . . . friendship."

David: [softly] "Oh, I don't know about that."

Also David confirms that the whole show has been a single summer, so please see the "vindication" gif above.

David: "I know a lot of fun camp songs."

Spencer: "Sing 3."

David: [starts singing] "Bum-bum-bumblebee, bumblebee tuna, I love bumblebee, bumblebee tuna . . ."

Spencer: "Okay, please stop. I immediately regret this decision."

David: "Max said the same thing! One of my campers. And, uh, and my co-counselor, Gwen."

He's literally made of sunshine. I would die for this fictional man.

Spencer: "Are people at camp against their will? I feel like they are."

David: "No! . . . They don't always like it immediately, but it grows on them."

Spencer: "It sounds like they're there against their will."

David: "Well I just think that's a negative way of looking at it."

FWIW Spencer makes an excellent foil to David. Not as aggressive as Max or as dour as Gwen, but he brings a very . . . like, straight-man energy to the conversation. Like how a normal person would react to David IRL. I'd enjoy seeing these two interact more.

Spencer: "It's like your overpositivity is wanting me to balance it out with negativity."

David: "You know, I feel like that dynamic's pretty popular with me."

eeeeeeee <3

And the last one that I personally found noteworthy:

David: "One day we'll be able to afford safety equipment. Until then, we'll just have to deal with Quartermaster's Ropes Course. And a lot of pillows."

There's point near the last 20 minutes where either it got kinda boring or I just got too tired to keep track. But if there are any quotes you think I missed, please share them! This was a really lovely bit of content to feed our starving maw, and I appreciate Miles very very very much for taking one for the team.

[bisexual-horror-fan]

SO. I (fucking finally) read that fic. THAT fic. “I never Pegged You As the Type”. Be a darling and tag the ever so talented Ace into whatever this brainfog of a comment will be, won’t you?

Anyay, my thoughts about the whole thing in no particular order;

Just hearing the basic idea of getting Freddy into THAT position, you know I was more than down for it! And there are two reasons for that: 1. Freddy is a proud fucker, so I had no idea how you were going to get him to agree with that, but I absolutely wanted to find out. Because I know how you write, and I was confident you could somehow pull it off without making it too out of character. I had no idea HOW you’d find a solution to that problem, but I was here to find out. 2. Given that it wouldn’t be something he willingly “lowers himself to”, there might be some… unexplored pleasure there, because it would kinda obviously mean that it might be unexplored, or at least very rare pleasure for him as a whole. And you know I’m all about seeing and hearing the pleasure of the other party. Seeing them get so lost in pleasure that they lose the ability to form coherent sentences is what I live for.

The beginning, how you laid down the teasing and edging so hard it borders on bullying. It’s so…. Freddy. It truly encompasses the reasons why I both love and hate the man. Like, yes that’s hot as fuck, but goddamn I want to slap him so hard he sees Heaven for a second. So I’m completely on board with the reader character here.

I adore her dedication. She fully went “I’ll spend an insane amount of time and practice to master this very specific skill just to get back to that absolute grade A cunt of a man”. Insert epic training montage music here.

Freddy unknowingly digging his own grave each and every goddamn night by continuing that bullshittery. A+.

The tension when the reader carefully, bit by bit tests if the whole thing could even work. The fear of getting caught, or worse, getting caught after the whole thing ends up just not working, because Freddy has so much control over his dream realm. And how the fear is not that he would kill you, but that he would intentionally be even MORE of a cunt for God knows how long, because he is a petty little shit.

You know it’s Freddy when you could almost forgive months of torture when you feel that mouth on your neck, pressing you against a wall with his full body. Yes please.

Reader is a bold one. I mean, obviously for the whole damn plan, but just going for a desperate kiss like that? Whoa. And then that goddamn demon kisses back, like he needs it too. It’s hot in here.

That snapping moment when the tables turn was INTENSE. Like, you are still kinda unsure if this shit would really work. And the feeling of pure victory when you realize that yes, it actually does work like a bloody charm.

It’s comically delicious how long Freddy thinks that he still has the upper hand and he can still talk himself to the position where he calls the shots. He is a good talker. A great talker. But not quite that great. Who would let themselves be talked out of an opportunity like this? A literal opportunity of a lifetime, because who knows if he would actually kill you after this. That petty pride ‘n all.

That mental image of Freddy just repeatedly going “Wait, WHAT?” in his head. Absolutely hilarious, and oh so good.

How utterly INSULTED he is about the whole thing. Not the act itself, but you managing to do that to him, and grin on top of it. It’s like he is betrayed by the whole goddamn order of things in the universe. Utterly shocked by what had just happened, because it was so impossible that it never even crossed his mind. And it made me think that that in and on itself was the secret of how this held together to the end; you can’t prepare to fight against something that never crossed your mind in the first place. Freddy was TAKEN BY SURPRISE. You two are made of pure golden genius.

I absolutely love how he is a grumpy asshat with wounded pride, throwing empty threats at the reader, but also, at the same time; that man is excited! Must have been as hard as a rock even before his ass was touched. …I wonder if there is a secret kink to this….

The constant verbal comebacks from the reader that make Freddy so damn annoyed has to be one of the best parts, because that’s literally what he does to others all the time. Stupid comebacks and lame jokes everywhere. “Rub it in, bitch. See where it gets you” “Don’t worry, baby, that’s not the only thing I’ll be rubbing in tonight” Gold star.

How he gets quiet for a moment, with his breathing faster. Ohhhh yes. More of this please. More of how much the fucker enjoys it, even if he can’t admit it. And oh Lord did you ever deliver in that department! The detailing of how it all affects him, how he reacts in every miniscule way. Yes. Yes yes yes. I’m so living for this.

When he realizes that the toy is doing something for the reader too, and then realizes he can’t do ANYTHING to control her orgasms anymore, and how he is so goddamn upset about it, like you just took a child’s favorite toy away. And then he actually throws a tantrum. Priceless.

And then we get to the deliciously long-drawn part of Freddy tasting his own medicine. Freddy being denied. Freddy being desperate. Freddy BEGGING. Now that was a new high on so many levels.

Damn that ending was satisfying. Him getting so desperate that you almost start to feel sorry for him. But then you remember that he is the fucking fucker who started this game ages ago, and has been much more cruel, and he goddamn deserves it.

(also he might like it more than he admits. I have a mighty need for that second part.)

-FREDDY FUCKING CRUEGER CRYING THAT HE WAS SORRY (!!!???). I can’t. I just cannot. I am deceased. Utterly, absolutely dead. Even if he said it in such a mental state that he doesn’t mean or comprehend what comes out of his mouth. I’ll take what I can get and cherish it forever.

And then that final “maybe in five minutes”, because once again you remember that he started this whole cruel game to begin with, so why go easy on him?

DAMN. 

-Furball891

---

So first off, @ace-of-clubs-and-diamonds look at this shit.

This is so great because I have been getting Furball's great reviews and now you get to be subjected to it too!

Okay so like oh my God, Furball! I am so fucking glad you loved it! This was a labour of love for sure, so much time and effort and planning, so much work and it was all worth it! Came out amazing!

You always have so much to say, I always come back to what you write over and over again, just you notice so much! The little details and hearing all your thoughts is ugh, such a treat!!!

Furball, I adore you so much. Please, never stop leaving these comments/reviews and I'll never stop writing this good good shit.

Also yes Ace and I are planning the part 2 already and you can expect more begging, more mean-ness and the reader even getting their hands on the glove! Look out for it sooner rather than later! Can't wait to do it!

[babygirldennis]

This shit is fake bby!!!

Here she is.. My masterpost of all the dumb, illogical bits of info contained within these s15 “leaks” that make me fairly confident they are complete bullshit. It also includes my little tinhat theories that have absolutely no evidence.

I will be putting it all under a Readmore in case you don't want to risk it or if you simply Do Not Care

First up, I'd like to point out that these call sheets repeatedly give very detailed backstories to characters that have few lines which conveniently paints a picture of each episode's plot. And I'm not an expert so correct me if I'm wrong, but after looking at other similar casting calls, they only ever include the demographic and necessary skills.

Basically who in their right mind would write up casting calls that give away so many spoilers? Seems like that could cause and issue if they were leaked lol. But anyway that's my 1st point. But onto the actual content

So the conceit of this episode as a whole is that during the pandemic, the gang "gamed the system" and received three (3!) Loans to start businesses that went bankrupt. One of these businesses is implied to be the one started by dee and charlie who end up selling to Qanon shaman. Already this is so impossible baby.

1. We've already seen the gang try to get a loan and it didn't work. They don't have good ideas. Ur telling me, they managed to finagle 3 separate loans for 3 separate business ideas from an actual bank?

2. Maybe I just have bad reading comprehension but how does one have a business that is both fictitious and bankrupt?

3. If the customer is supposed to be Qanon shaman, an actual real life guy, why are the only descriptors white and male? They say he's shirtless so are they going to paint on all of the tattoos he has? And if so, doesn't that kind of ruin the dramatic reveal when charlie "throws in" the viking helmet? Why would he do that anyways? Sus.

Moving on

Alright this episode would fucking blow for obvious reasons but im going to refrain from looking at this through my gay dennis thruther lens because im biased.

Purely from a narrative standpoint, a woman hasn't been shown to be interested in dennis in nearly 5 years during the wade boggs episode. Ever since, every single woman he approaches has been actively creeped out by him. And now I'm supposed to believe that 3 "smart, passionate woman" (In Their Twenties!!!!!!) agreed to go on a date with him? And Anna even slept with him! Just because he what? Agreed with her? I'm not buyin it.

Plus the concept of this scenario lacks any potential for comedy. When iasip gets political, they always discuss a very specific topic using hyperbolic situations and flawed metaphors. If this is supposed to be a political episode, what ultimately lukewarm point would rob be trying to make here? So far we know they're ranting about

The patriarchy

Privilege

Socialism

No more personal responsibility(?)

The... nature of power in society(??)

How on earth would an episode like get approved? This shit sounds like a Ted talk. It sounds like it was written specifically to sound like a political episode so boring and pointless it would generate outrage and mile long essay posts from Tumblr users and reddit users alike. Almost like this one lol.

On a completely unrelated note, do not try and convince me that Frank "casual cock ring wearer" Reynolds is unable to perform.

Jeez this is getting out of hand fast. Let's move on

Ok now we're starting to getting into the Ireland of it all. Let me go on a bit of a tangent here about all this.. Now I thinq there are just 3 possibilities. Either this is all a publicity stunt and there is some truth to the Ireland rumors, the entire thing could be bogus from some weirdo fan (ps, if a fan did write this I want you to know I fucking hate you. You did this to me), or it is a publicity stunt but Ireland is just more bullshit.

I am going to assume it was a publicity stunt, otherwise I just wasted my entire evening and I can't have that kind of mentality rn. Additionally, I'm Going to tinhat here for a second and say that the Ireland rumors are true, but the details are different.

I say this because if they were going to do filming in Ireland, they probably figured that that information would be impossible to hide. In essence, my completely unfounded hypothesis is that this leak was their fucked up little way of controlling the situation while simultaneously messing with us.

Ok tangent is over, returning to the casting calls. From the looks of it, dee starts a "scam" acting class and has some very devoted students (Note that Tony was also the name of the porn shop owner. Seems weird!) Presumably after the gang replaces her with a monkey as the title suggests.

Honestly, there isn't too much here that's a red flag to me... seems like a nice little dee-centric episode that is the link to the Dublin angle. Assuming I am At All right, this could be a genuine plotline for Dee. However, the monkey could be a red herring and there could be a whole different side plot with the guys. who's to say. Next one!

Ah yes this is the dennis we all know and despise.. no red flags for me here really, I'm also running out of steam because idk if it shows, but I am majorly sleep deprived atm. Anyway I'm going to the next one

Okay this is where things start getting weird again ough a migraine just hit, anyway back to my earlier point about how casting calls would never contains major spoilers bc the people who see these wont be under any kind of NDA..

These ones reveal that bonnie dies. Again, that info wouldn't be in a casting call.

But also they suggest charlie has a irish penpal named Shelley who is his biological father. First off charlie is illiterate, although as pointed out by @undeadbreeze shelley could also be communicating in symbols. However, this scenario is still unbelievable to me for a couple reasons:

1. Bonnie's last name is Kelly obviously, and we know it's her maiden name because Jack's last name is also Kelly. But Shelley's last name is... also Kelly? In the context of this big ol hoax, it feels like it was written to show that look! his last name is the same as charlie's! That's how you know that's his dad! But It would be way too big of a coincidence if charlie's dad happened to have the same last name bonnie.

And 2. There's the whole mystery of charlie's long-lost sister from 'charlie got molested' but never any mention of a brother which according to this, shelley has been pretending to be his brother for years. And we all know how much rcg loves their continuity, it seems uncharacteristically lazy to just tack this on without any prior buildup.

And finally let me talk about mac for a second and specifically the line in gus's summary "both are gay men who are attracted to the priesthood for all the wrong reasons"

Iasip has commented on pedophilia in the priesthood many times in the past which leads me to believe that they are implying that mac is a pedophile? Please let me know if I completely misread the implications of that statement, but if not, then that is completely insane and one of the biggest indictators that this is fake. Mac is awful, just like everyone in the gang but he is definitely not a pedophile.

However even if i did completely misread that, it's still proof this is fake.. For all his faults, Rob put a surprising amount of care and effort into mac's coming-out. It hasn't been perfect, but Mfhp in particular firmly established that mac's faith is integral to his identity so Its unlikely that rob would throw all of that away for a cheap shot at priests.

Ok my brain is irradiated sludge at this point, but in conclusion. I hope that 1. I'm right, at least about it being fake (Otherwise damb that'll be so humiliating for me) And 2. This eases ur fears a bit. I don't want to lose all faith in future seasons bc I love iasip and miss the gang. If you read this far youre insane but I literally love you so goddamn much because I spent so so long tapping this out on my silly little phone

Please feel free to add on or message me your thoughts and opinions I need to know I'm not the only one who uhhh went a bit insane. And finally: whoever made these is a cunt. Mwah.

[erectionsandtea]

Roller rink skate date headcanons! (poly party) insp. by this post, for @mike-wheeler-is-gay (I know you wanted byler specifically and I usually write poly party, but I tried to stick some extra byler in here for you, I hope I did it justice and that you like it!)

So many paragraphs this should really just be a fic, I'm sorry

- Mike is super tall and gangly is absolutely the worst skater in the party (tied only with Lucas, who put on his very first pair of skates and promptly fell on his face and they weren't even on the rink yet, they were still on the carpet area)

- the moment Mike steps into the actual skating floor, he falls bc he's tall gangly uncoordinated Mike, and Will is just standing there rolling his eyes, like "babe, you're a mess" but he doesn't mind bc it means he gets to hold Mike's hand (and hold Mike in general) while he helps his bf balance and skate

- and Mike is like "I don't deserve you, why are you even with me, I'm so awkward" (poor self deprecating bby), and you know Will would respond with "are you kidding, you're amazing, why are YOU with ME?" (also a self deprecating bby), but then he falls and pulls Will down with him (aka on top of him lol)

- and they laugh, and just as their lips touch, the moment is ruined by Max zooming in their direction screaming "get up before you get run over!!" And she manages to avoid them (being the zoomer that she is) but Lucas has to swerve and falls the fuck over ofc (luckily the rink isn't super crowded that day so nobody's in any real danger)

- and Dustin is looking at byler like "this isn't even that hard guys, come on, are you even trying??"

- El and Will have totally been going to the rink (sibling bonding yo) and everyone realizes that's how they got so good bc El is totally the best skater in the group

- except for Suzie who is a skating queen

- El and Suzie totally having races from one end of the rink to the other

- Max totally joining them and they let her win, just once

- Dustin joining them and after he wins twice in a row (pure luck), Max and El pretend cross his path and bump into him, totally fucking him up, and Dustin's just like "are you shitting me?" (but it's all in good fun, everyone knows that)

- El and Max holding hands as El helps her get better at skating, bc Max is decent on skates but better on her skateboard (bc how do you wheels on both feet separately ??) (like skiing vs snowboarding)

- byler doing that thing where holding hands facing each other, and Mike learning how to actually move his feet and skate forward, and that's propelling Will backward (and Will constantly throwing praise at him and Mike grinning so big bc he's doing it! lol)

- Will and Mike holding hands as they slowly skate around the edge of the rink

- Mike needing to stop a moment and grab the wall to keep himself up and steady, and Will coming around in front of him, his hands over Mike's,and they stand there all adorable and then kisses (except Mike has to duck down bc Will cannot stand on his tippy-toes in skates)

- eventually Mike is like "I need a break" (from falling and stuff, tho he has gotten better) and he goes to sit down

- and then El comes over to join him bc "you looked lonely" (he isn't really lonely, he just kind of has a resting bitch face sometimes, tell me I'm wrong, am I actually wrong tho ??)

- they sit together in silence, watching the rest of the group playing some weird skate-tag game (rules at the bottom)

- Mike is watching Will with a smile on his face, laughing and having fun, and he says to nobody, really "what did I ever do to deserve him?"

- El replies "probably whatever I did to deserve you" and they look at each other and smile and then cute lil Mileven kiss

- their hands reach over (cos they are sitting like RIGHT next to each other, no space)

- they continue to sit there, hands clasped, her head on his shoulder, watching the group and sometimes making comments to each other and laughing

- after a while Will comes over to check on his bf and sis) ("I don't know which is more bruised, my knees or my ego" -> Mike, "you're doing really well!" -> El), which is actually kind of nice for El bc she wants to go skate some more but she doesn't want to leave Mike by himself

- before she leaves tho, she wants a kiss, so still holding Mike's hand she gets up and wheels around to face him and grabs his other hand and is like "I want a kiss" bc she's just blunt like that (it's a good thing)

- and mike laughs at her bluntness bc SO CUTE, and so Mike gives her one of those super cute kisses where he puts his hands on the sides of her face, you know? And she has to balance herself by putting her hands on his knees (Sorry, I just had to get a Mileven kiss in here)

(so much detail in those moments ^ I'm...sorry?)

- so Will sits there with Mike, and they hold hands and share kisses and say cute sweet things to each other, and honestly they spend more time looking at each other than anyone/thing else

- Will goes and buys them one giant drink to share bc boys gotta stay hydrated (can someone please draw this or maybe ALL of this idk ??)

- the rest of the group annoys them (but not really) by hanging over the wall and saying "AWWW" super loud and making kissy faces

- and then El comes back over later and says "okay, that's enough sitting down, we're going back skating, come on" and she grabs Mike's hand and Will's hand and tries to pull them up but it's hard bc wheels (like she's about to slip and the boys have to grab her arms to catch her), but the boys comply and go back to the rink floor

- Dustin and Suzie can totally do skate-dancing, whatever that is (and they totally get applause)

- Max skating by everyone so many times and being like "zoomer!" and everyone is like "pls stop, we get it"

- Dustin trying to tell help Lucas how to skate by actually explaining how the skates and the rubber stoppers work, and Lucas not getting it and just being like "can you explain in English please??" And Dustin throws his hands up like "I fucking give up, you're hopeless"

- Max learns how to skate in a small circle (basically just turning around without stepping) and she's super fucking proud of herself and does it constantly

- Max eventually needs to be stopped by El and Lucas bc "babe, you're gonna get so dizzy" (you can decide who says that 😊) but it's too late bc she's already dizzy

- Lucas and El lead Max off the rink floor and she just immediately falls down to sit on the carpet bc so dizzy and El falls down next to her bc hand holding (she gets pulled), and Lucas sits down too

- the girls can't stop laughing and Lucas is looking at them like "tf is wrong with you guys?" (but not really), also he's just smiling at them and laughing with them bc goddamn they are so cute, his girlfriend is the most beautiful girl in the world and seeing her as she is right now just inflates his heart

- eventually Max can't stay upright so she lies back and El follows her and they are just lying there together (Max on her back, El on her side facing Max, no space), giggling so hard, they can't stop laughing for some reason (I think it's bc when one laughs, it makes the other laugh too)

- Max is like "you, boyfriend, kiss" and so Lucas complies

- an employee has to come over and say "you can't lie down here, it's a safety hazard" and Lucas is like "we're sorry, sir" and he's like "babe, we gotta move"

- so he gets the girls up and they bring max to a bench where she can sit, instead of sitting tho, she lies down again, on the bench with her head in El's lap, and then elmax kisses as El plays with her hair

- El and Max basically take over the bench that Mike and Will were sitting on, and they also steal the boys' giant drink (barely a quarter empty) cos hydration

- Will and Mike trying to kiss while not holding the wall, but fucking down AnD having his eyes closed throws Mike way off balance bc what a klutz, and then he falls and Will is fuckin laughing and he feels bad but also it's funny

- so then Will gets down too (more gracefully but lbr, anyone can be more graceful than Mike, without even trying) and is like "it's okay, we can do this here" and then sitting kisses

- El trying to help Mike but she's having too much fun and ends up just speeding around while Mike tries to catch up with her, and she has to keep going back for him

- Mike feeling kind of embarrassed bc his gf is amazing while his own skating is questionable, and he confides this to her and is like "why are you with me, I'm so clumsy and awkward" (self deprecating again), but El makes him feel better by telling him that she's with him bc she loves him and actually she thinks it's kind of cute that he's not that good at skating and she likes being the one who helps him for once (bc he's helped her for so long with so much)

- and then Mike gives her one of his lil mike-smiles (you know the one I mean, like the one right after he kisses her for the very first time, in season 1)

- and then a Mileven kiss, but Mike almost loses his balance again like he did with the byler kiss, but El can sense it's about to happen and has to break their kiss to hold him up (she's holding both his hands, fingers intertwined), but it's okay, they just smile at each other share a little laugh at the situation and how uncoordinated he is, and they scoot their skates really close together in a sort-of huh type thing

- arcade games after!! (But I'll put that in its own separate post 😄)

- rules to the weird skate-tag game: 1) the wall is the safe zone, but you can only stay there for 10 seconds at a time 2) you cannot untouch the wall for one second and then go back to touching it for 10 seconds, you have to actually leave the wall and skate (HOWEVER you can try to skate from the wall on one end of the rink to the wall at the other end) 3) you are allowed to skate around the edge while touching the wall, as long as you only do so for no more than 10 seconds 4) whoever is 'it' cannot hover around those on the wall 5) crashing into someone does not count as tagging them 6) no tag backs

~

I tried to get equal parts of all the ships in this one but I know I failed miserably, I'm so sorry lol (clearly you can tell who I ship the most)

If you want to add more (I will if I think of any), send me ideas, or request anything, please feel free! 😀👍🏻

[naralanis]

little bumps in the road (pt. 18)

Previously, on LBitR...

When Lena wakes up, this time, it’s to a scenario completely different from anything she might have expected.

For starters, she’s in handcuffs. That becomes quite apparent when she reaches over to touch the sore spot at her temple; or rather, when she tries. Her hand stops with the distinctive metallic rattle she’s unfortunately familiar with barely inches into the movement—even the one now kitted out with a much bulkier cast. She’s essentially chained to a hospital bed—not the cell she was in before, it looks alike—if the familiar, faint humming and beeping of monitors is any indication.

The other thing she absolutely was not expecting was to be face-to-face with one visibly furious Alex Danvers barely seconds after her eyes readjust to the harsh lights above her.

Lena tries to speak, but her throat is excruciatingly dry, and that makes the words sting like needles when she tries to push them out. She manages a pitiful little groan before the sensation alone sends her into a miserably painful coughing fit.

There’s no sympathy in Alex’s eyes, none whatsoever as she begrudgingly hands Lena a little paper cup full of ice-chips.

“Thought you could take the easy way out, Luthor? There are easier ways than stabbing yourself in the head. Just saying.”

Lena crunches the ice with her teeth, sucking the water as it melts away greedily and gratefully. She ignores the comment and the angry tone for the time being—who knows when she’ll have an opportunity to speak with Alex.

“Alex,” she coughs, throat still hoarse.

“It’s Director Danvers to you, Ms. Luthor,” the redhead says coldly. Lena has to control the impulse to roll her eyes—Lex obviously messed with Alex’s head, too, and thus Lena has a rather limited window to try and tip the scales here. She tries to sit up, shuffling awkwardly upwards as much as the handcuffs would allow.

“I wouldn’t get too comfortable,” Alex quips cruelly, looking at a clipboard with feigned disinterest. “As soon as you’re discharged, you will be transferred to a DEO holding facility. I assure you, a little bleeding won’t get you out of our custody so easily.”

“I didn’t stab my own head,” Lena drawls hoarsely. “I was trying to take out an implant.”

“The tracking chip your brother put in, I know. How do you think he found you?”

Lena takes the opportunity to roll her eyes then, since Alex seems to focused on whatever is on that stupid clipboard. “Alex,” she tries again. “You have to, you have to get in touch with Kara—she’ll be trying to call you, you can’t let her come—”

“Kara is dead, Lena!” the Director hisses, and Lena’s heart shatters at the anguish in her eyes, at the sorrow so visible and raw it tells Lena Alex believes that wholeheartedly.

“Alex,” she chokes out, eyes stinging with tears at the mere thought of Alex not remembering how she had pulled her sister back from the brink of death, not knowing that Kara is alive and (relatively) well, that she’s probably flying to National City to her actual death as they speak.

Thinking that Lena had murdered her sister in cold blood and then tried to run.

Fuck you, Lex.

“Alex, listen to me,” Lena tries through clenched teeth. “Kara—”

“—is dead, Lena! You killed her—I arrested you myself! We have evidence, Lena, and I am going to make sure you rot in a cell for the rest of your pathetic life for it, you piece of sh—”

“Alex! She’s alive! Kara’s alive, I swear!”

Alex’s fists clench at her sides; her whole body goes rigid with fury and grief. “Stop it, Lena, stop this right now,” she says under her breath, her cold tone as much of a warning as her posture.

Lena ignores it all, stares directly into Alex’s flinty gaze. “No,” she grits out. Her head throbs, and so does her broken hand, and her throat still hurts, but Lena pushes through. “You saved her, Alex—we have been on the run together ever since—”

“Lena, shut up, shut up right n—”

“She dug a briefcase full of money in Texas!” Lena shouts. “From you! You have a series of caches through the country, plans in place for both of you if you’re ever in trouble! She called you from different pay-phones in every state—she tried to reach you every single day, and—”

“Lena!”

“Two rings! ‘Hello, yes,’ means ‘go ahead,’ ‘yes, hello’, means you can’t talk! Anything else, it’s not you on the phone!”

“Stop!”

It’s a deafening, agonizing yelp, and it comes with a clipboard thrown clear across the room and a flinch Lena can’t quite contain in time. Alex is shaking with sheer fury and grief; her eyes, engulfed by dark circles, are glittering with tears, and her lower lip trembles as she tries to speak again.

“Please, stop,” she murmurs weakly, sounding utterly broken. “Stop. How do you—” she has to stop to try and stifle a sob, and is not successful in the slightest. “How do you know those things?”

Lena swallows, having shouted herself hoarse. “Kara told me. Or rather, she showed me. You told me about the code yourself.”

“I-I never—she’d, she’d ne—no, I wouldn’t—” Alex stammers, her face flitting through a multitude of expressions that bleed into one another, before settling into clear and intense confusion.

Lena tries to touch her temple again, momentarily forgetting she’s in handcuffs. She groans once her movement is stopped short, and points to where she feels a rather thick bandage on the side of her head. “I didn’t ‘stab my head’ for no reason,” she tries to explain as calmly as she can. “I was trying to remove a mind-control device my brother dearest implanted. I wouldn’t be surprised if you had one too.”

She can tell that she’s losing Alex by the second—the agent looks increasingly confounded. But something that Lena has said might just have jostled a memory or two in her brain—Lena can practically hear the gears turning as Alex tentatively reaches for her own temple.

“It’s how Lex tracked us,” Lena continues, noting how Alex’s eyes seemed to widen by a fraction. “I couldn’t let him find Kara, too, so I sent her away.”

Alex changes her movement, makes it look like she was merely running her fingers through the hair cropped short at her temples. But Lena can tell—even if she isn’t thoroughly convinced, she is rattled, and at this point Lena will take any victory she can.

Alex straightens her shoulders, looks Lena down with an anger that, at least, isn’t as intense as it was mere minutes ago. “You’re lying,” she declares emphatically, despite the doubt in her eyes. “I don’t know how, but you’re—you’re lying. A mind-control implant is just too damn convenient, Lena.”

“I’m not lying,” Lena whispers, suppressing a sigh of frustration. “She’s alive, and she’ll fly right into a trap if you don’t stop her.”

Alex stops trying to hold her composure; Lena’s words are affecting her, and Lena feels terrible. “Enlighten me,” Alex murmurs, low and dangerous. “What would that trap entail, exactly?”

The sigh Lena releases this time is pure defeat. “Me. Unleashing Kryptonite hell.”

Alex smirks, looking at once defeated and confused. “Ahh, but see, you’ve already done that, Lena. You’ve already killed her,” she says through tears.

“I didn’t!” Lena hisses. “Alex, I did send Kryptonite rockets at her, but she’s alive and coming here to die all over again and you have to help me stop it! I know there’s part of you that believes me, Alex—just feel the goddamned implant at your own temple!”

“I don’t believe sh—”

“Where is her body!?” Lena yells, and then, she can see the puzzle pieces starting to click together in Alex’s head. She wonders if it’ll be as painful as it was for her, or if Lex is just especially sadistic to her because Lena is his sister. “Where is she buried, Alex?”

Alex scoffs, but her eyes dart around the room like she’d find the answers anywhere but her own mind. “She’s… she’s buried at… Midva—no, at…” she stutters, hands clenching and unclenching at her sides.

“You can’t remember, Alex, because that memory doesn’t exist.”

“Of course I can, just—just give me a second, just…”

Alex continues moving her mouth, but words come out in unintelligible whispers, and she begins to pace the room like a caged animal, muttering to herself and shaking her head like a lunatic.

Lena can relate.

“Alex, listen to me,” she tries once more, and her heart sinks at the mixture of grief and confusion she sees in the agent’s eyes. “I know you don’t believe me, but you need…”

Lena sighs, closes her eyes. This is it; the only chance they have. “You need to get Nia.”

 << Previous || Next >>

[milenadaniels]

Still Waters, 7k - Buck/Eddie, post s4 (AO3)

As Eddie lays on the hot pavement bleeding out, his eyes locked on Buck’s bloody face, his hand reaching out towards him, what washes over him isn’t his hard-earned stillness nor is it shock.

It’s clarity, edging slowly into focus from off-stage.

And when he wakes up in the hospital bed and registers a soft, slim hand in his, he thinks, "no, that’s not it.”

----

Or, Five Ways Eddie's Body Feels Different After the Shooting

Eddie takes comfort in living with a certain stillness. 

Being an army medic means walking into gunfire without being able to shoot back. It takes a steadiness that’s hard to train and while the army did help him grow into the man he is today, they couldn’t teach him that. That stillness, that restraint and level-headedness — he showed up to basic training with it. It makes him a good medic, a good firefighter, and it’s what makes him a good son. (If he’d countered his parents’ yelling with his own, if he’d let loose the caustic retorts he has tucked away, it wouldn’t be long until they were out of his life for good.)

He lost that stillness after Shannon died and he nearly lost everything else he’d worked so hard for because of it. So he built that restraint back up brick by brick until he was safe again. It was a little harder to breathe sometimes, but it was a familiar kind of pressure. Like a jacket you’ve grown out of but still love the look of enough to wear out sometimes.

And then he gets shot, and he doesn’t move, doesn’t say a word, doesn’t react at all. But it’s not his stillness kicking in.

It’s having a bullet tear through his body on a sunny afternoon in L.A., thousands of miles away from where this should have been a hazard of the job. 

It’s hearing the bullet go off before registering the pain, but seeing the blood spray across Buck’s face before any of that. 

It’s falling and Buck — open, emotional Buck — not reacting at all. 

It’s collapsing on the street and smelling iron and finally putting together all these pieces and understanding why it’s so hard to breathe.

It’s not stillness, it’s just shock. Pure and simple.

But after that moment passes, as Eddie lays on the hot pavement bleeding out, his eyes locked on Buck’s bloody face, his hand reaching out towards him, the stillness that washes over him isn’t his hard-earned restraint nor is it the shock. 

It’s clarity, edging slowly into focus from off-stage. 

Clarity like he had in Afghanistan as the bullets rained down around him and he bled out in the sand, the clarity that nothing in the world mattered to him more than Christopher and nothing would ever keep him from his kid again. Not the army, not his problems with Shannon, not his parents.

This clarity, this epiphany, is seeping slowly into his consciousness and he grasps at it, tries to pull it in closer to understand. But just as it starts to trickle into him, Buck screams for him, his voice breaking, terrified, and a strong hand lands on his arm. Anything else his mind was trying to tell him is drowned out by his own screams.

When he wakes up in the hospital bed, lights too bright and his throat sore from the extubation, he feels...strange. He feels a stillness take hold of him, but it’s not a familiar one. His body and mind are calm, but anticipating something. He feels like he’s woken up from an important dream he can’t remember. Like he’s late for something but doesn’t know where to go. Like he was mid-conversation when the other person vanished.

Then he registers a soft, slim hand in his and thinks, no, that’s not it.

Eddie’s skin feels different after the shooting. 

He knows that from the moment his mind and body reconnect and half-asleep he tries to pull his hand out of Ana’s, but he doesn’t get the extent of it until his welcome home party where he tries to lean in for a kiss but diverts himself to her cheek, lingering there longer out of guilt. Her skin is as soft as always, warm from the heat of the house, but that small thrill of learning intimacy with someone new is gone and he’s not close enough to her to feel the deeper, warmer rightness he feels when he kisses Christopher’s forehead or Abuela’s cheek. 

Carla’s comment has been rattling around in his head since before the shooting, trying to find the unfinished puzzle inside him it could match up to. Ana sidles up to him at the party, lacing their fingers together and a faint rush of no crawls up his arm. He squeezes her fingers to compensate and smiles, blaming its weakness on fatigue. He looks at her, so beautiful, kind, and patient, and suddenly he hears Buck’s voice in his head saying, “Overcorrecting” as the puzzle piece slides into place. 

Eddie’s parents were wrong about Christopher, about Eddie as a father, and he will forever be angry that they made him feel like nothing, like worse than a deadbeat dad when he was already at his lowest. But he still loves them, still understands they were trying to do the best they could for Christopher, and in that their values will always align. He knows that if the day comes that he needs their help, they’ll be on a plane in a heartbeat. 

They’re family.

So he can’t dislodge the seed of hurt buried deep in his gut when they tell him he’s failing in their eyes. And they weren’t wrong in their accusations, really. He works crazy hours, the extended family doesn’t live here, and every other week with a specialist or new consultation makes him feel like he’s playing catch-up on what his son needs to be healthy and happy. 

And then Ana was placed in his path. A schoolteacher turned vice-principal with a Ph.D, who could cook, and who was kind, beautiful, Latina, and worked almost exactly the same hours Christopher would be in school for. And so, just like he had with the skateboarding, Eddie had overcorrected and tried to make up for his deficiencies.

Eddie breaks up with her over coffee during her lunch break while Christopher is at school and Buck is at work. She’s as understanding as she has been since they started this little courtship and he’s grateful to have known her, to have tried this, even though it didn’t work. She squeezes his hand on the table as she gets up to leave and he smiles politely, stretching his fingers in and out only once she’s completely out of sight.

He passes out on the couch when he gets home, grateful to have the excuse of recovering from a major injury to do absolutely nothing but blank out for a bit, and is woken up by warmth cupping his shoulder. He opens his eyes to find blue eyes and an amused smile tugging at full lips.

“Hey, dinner’s on,” Buck says. There’s a question written across his face, a hint of worry creasing in the corners of his eyes, but Eddie smiles back tiredly and the shadows on Buck’s face clear. Mostly.

“We’re having ziti!” Christopher yells from the dining room, and Eddie is not surprised. Buck has been staying with them for three days and they’ve had foods easy to eat one-handed for those three days. 

“We are having ziti,” Buck echoes with raised eyebrows to convey the nonexistent significance of having ziti.

“Well I’m definitely getting up for ziti.”

Unexpectedly, Buck’s hand slips into his good one and his other hand goes to support Eddie’s shoulder to help him upright on the couch. He backs away once he’s sure Eddie isn’t listing sideways and shoots him a smile with a cocked head before hopping back to the dining room to supervise. Eddie takes an extra moment on the couch opening and closing his fist, letting himself revel in the electric tingle racing up and down his arms, and the feeling of sweat prickling along his skin where Buck’s slid.

Eddie's hearing things differently after the shooting.

Between being a young, single parent and his military training, Eddie has mastered the art of sleeping lightly to keep alert to any sounds in the night. He’s so good at it that when they first moved into this house, he only lasted 3 weeks before he had to get his toolset out, take Christopher’s bed apart and reassemble it with a copious applicable of WD-40 to stop the one damn metal slat squeaking just loud enough for him to hear all the way from his own bedroom every single goddamn night.

He thought he’d naturally start sleeping more soundly as Christopher got older and more independent, but then Shannon died, and the tsunami happened, and being able to spring up at the first hint of a cry overrode any other instinct his body could manifest.

And now he’s recovering from an injury, which never lends itself to a deep sleep, which works out well because Christopher is processing his father getting shot at work and Eddie needs to be ready to reassure him that he hasn’t lost both his parents when the nightmares come. 

So when he wakes to Christopher shaking his arm and whispering, “Daddy”, he immediately springs awake, his hands already reaching for his crying son….who isn’t crying. Which Eddie can see clearly by the strong light of the sun filling the room. 

“Mijo?” Trying to blink himself into alertness.

“Are you awake?” Christopher asks, a crooked smile on his face. “It’s breakfast time.”

“Yeah, yes, I’m awake,” he says, though his mind is trying to tell him otherwise. “Breakfast? What time is it?”

“Breakfast time!” Christopher repeats, shaking his arm again for good measure. “It’s gonna get cold!”

“I’m coming,” he says, but grunts as he actually tries to lever himself up.

“Hey, hey, you were only supposed to see if he was awake, not actually wake him up,” Buck admonishes as he rushes the room. He pokes Christopher in the side a few times as punishment until the boy is shrieking with laughter. Then he moves into Eddie’s space to slip a strong arm under his back and practically lifts him up into a seated position without Eddie’s help. 

Eddie blinks against a small rush of dizziness and Buck’s hands stay on his shoulders until he nods that he’s okay. The feeling of them stays on his skin like tattoos long after.

They make it to the table and Eddie finds himself still disoriented as he takes in the impressive spread on the dining room table. Buck is many things but he is not a quiet man, especially not while cooking and this is a minimum of a half hour’s work. Probably closer to an hour judging by the very uneven shapes of the hashbrowns pointing to Christopher’s appointment as sous-chef. 

He didn’t hear any of it.

But the biggest blow comes ten minutes into the meal when Christopher, who’d been all energy until he got to the table, suddenly seems to have lost his appetite and slumps into his chair as he plays with his food instead.

Eddie’s hand comes up automatically to check for a fever despite the lack of redness in his cheeks but Buck catches his eye and shakes his head, assuaging that concern. Buck, Eddie now notices, is sporting quite the bruises under his own eyes.

“Nightmares,” Buck mouths silently, tipping his head towards Christopher.

And for a moment, Eddie’s parents stand in front of him, telling him he couldn’t even be there for his son when he needed him and the guilt and shame curls between his ribs and suffocates him. 

But then Buck negotiates Christopher into eating one half of a banana in exchange for two more squirts of ketchup for his eggs and Eddie lets the guilt wash into him, through him, and then away. 

He wasn’t there for Christopher, but Buck was. And would forever be. Eddie has had nearly a year to come to terms with that fact, to grapple with what little doubts he had that Buck would pass on the responsibility — not because he didn’t want it, but because he’d forever find someone else more worthy of it — and yet he’s still caught off-guard every time he’s reminded he isn’t alone in this anymore.

Still, he feels the need to be there himself for Christopher if he’s needed, so he tries to train his mind to stay alert while he sleeps that night.

He lets himself drift, cataloguing the sounds of nighttime. The periodic hum of the fridge, the air conditioning kicking in, the crickets outside. He slips away at some point, pulled into darkness by a healing body and a tired mind, but he’s gratified to find himself waking suddenly at 1:13am at the sound of murmuring voices down the hallway.

Buck is up with Christopher again.

Eddie’s stomach muscles make a valiant effort to try to get him up but the rest of his body and mind are unconcerned. He tries to flare up some adrenaline, something to tell his body to respond to his child who’s in distress, but all he gets is the molasses-heavy pull back to sleep. He knows he should be bothered, should be scared that he can’t do this. But he’s just not. Because Buck’s got this.

A month ago, footsteps in his hallway at night would have him waking up tense and alert, ready to respond to the intruder, until he remembered that Buck stayed over, or Tía Pepa came in early and he would slowly, consciously release the tension in his muscles until he was calm again.

Tonight, the sound of heavy footsteps going back to the living room doesn’t even pass into conscious thought. Before it can even get to his higher thinking, it’s interpreted as safe.

Eddie’s seeing things differently after the shooting.

Eddie’s back to work a week after the shooting, on light duties, and while he hates not being able to jump in the truck and watch his team’s back on calls, he doesn’t hate taking it easy. Just for a little while anyway.

Today, however, they’re all taking it easy. It’s a slow day, and they have an open house for several local high schools’ career day. The firefighters of the 118 are spread out, some leading tour groups, some recounting PG versions of intense calls, some handing out snacks and pamphlets. Civilians are milling about as though this is a museum and not a functioning firehouse that could get a call any minute, but he’s not stressing about it. That’s Bobby’s job. 

He does raise an eyebrow at whichever parents feel it’s okay to let their toddler toddle off in a strange place full of dangerous equipment though. Eddie sees the tyke waddle past him and almost moves to block her path when he sees her destination. 

Later, he’ll remember this moment as time slowing down to a crawl just for him, but what really happens is his heart realizes something just moments before the rest of him does and his brain has to pump the brakes to align everything back up. 

What happens is Buck crouches down to the level of the little girl whose pudgy arms are reaching up for him, like she recognizes the safest place in this whole new, strange environment. He puts his hands around her — his fingers spanning from her hips to underneath her arms —  and lifts her up high above his head in one quick swoop that has her shrieking with delight. And the people drop away, the cacophony dies down until all Eddie can see is Buck and the little girl backlit by the sun pouring in from the open bay doors. And at the crest of the arc the little girl makes in the air, everything stills and something in Eddie’s chest just cracks right open. Something deep and consuming. Something that resonates through him until he’s shuddering with it. Something that yells,

I want that.

It’s a picture of achingly beautiful contrasts — a child the size of a doll over the head of a towering form, taut biceps straining against his uniform short sleeves to hold her fragile body with just enough force to keep her safe in his hands, the dark masculine line of his uniform against her light purple princess tulle dress — but their beaming smiles are matched perfectly. 

And Eddie wants. He wants to the point of breathlessness and he doesn’t know what to do with that. He just knows he wants to be looking at this exact image again a couple of years down the road, but when it happens next he wants the little girl in Buck's hands to be his, and that is some fucking news to him. He’s never thought of having more kids. Well, he has, but in the same abstract way he thinks he might someday get a dog. It would be nice, but not in the cards for now, not something to spend time thinking about in realistic terms. 

But maybe that’s what his brain is straining to catch him up on. That he wants more kids. Like a biological alarm clock coming to life. He could deal with that. He could.

Only Buck is putting the little girl down and she’s walking away with her parents and Eddie can’t pull his eyes away from Buck’s deep dimples and the whites of his teeth, and that warm pressure in Eddie’s chest sinks down into his abdomen and curls into something hot and he can hear the blood rushing in his ears, and he thinks wildly that it may not be about the little girl at all. But it may be that if there is a little girl in his future, he’d want her to be theirs, like —

Like Christopher is.

His mind supplies him with the image of Buck carrying Christopher to bed last night — in those same strong arms, tenderly removing his glasses and tucking him in — and just like that this kernel of panic that had been building in his sternum bursts like an overfilled balloon whose contents are unexpectedly soft because they rain down over all the fear and anxiety until all he can feel is a bone-deep calm. 

Eddie wants that. And maybe that’s okay.

“You okay, Eddie?” Asks Bobby, coming to stand next to him.

Time is winding back up to normal speeds, and the sun framing Buck is slowly lowering back down to the brightness of a regular sunny day, but Eddie is still staring.

“Yeah,” he says in a voice he barely recognizes as his own.

“You sure?” 

Buck is saying something to a parent, then asks them to wait, running behind a truck for something and finally releasing Eddie’s gaze.

He takes a deep breath and sits with the feelings pulsing through his veins before turning to Bobby, his eyes maybe a touch wide if the captain’s concern is anything to go by. He wants to say something, wants to blurt it all out, wants to be that person who wears their whole heart on his sleeve...but he’s not that person yet. 

“We had a conversation not long ago,” Eddie begins, sounding as shell shocked as he feels, “about focussing on the wrong thing. Missing out on something.”

Bobby is quiet and when Eddie finally turns his head he finds the man looking past him, to where Buck has returned.

Bobby’s lips into a small, satisfied smile. “Yes, we did. Found something to focus on?”

“Yeah,” Eddie admits. “I think so.”

Bobby claps him on the back, and leaves his hand just long enough to feel like a blessing.

Eddie’s breathing is different after the shooting.

He wishes he could blame the bullet but the same kind of luck that had gotten him out of the well had somehow seen him come out of a sniper attack with mostly muscle damage and a cleanly fractured scapula that should heal if it's kept immobile. His ribs, collarbone, and lungs have all gotten off without injury.

And blaming the bullet was always going to be a hard sell when his breath only hitches and constricts when Buck lets himself into his house at the end of his shifts. When he toes his boots off and hangs his jacket up in the closet like he means to stay. When his socked feet bump into Eddie’s under the breakfast table because they’re both too damn long in the legs to be sitting across from each other. When their shoulders brush when putting the leftovers away. When Buck is the one to let Abuela into the house and chats with her easily as Christopher gets ready to leave. When — 

Suffice it to say proximity may be more a factor than the bullet. Though Eddie can understand how Buck’s gotten it wrong.

“Don’t tell me you’re not hurting, tough guy” Buck chastises him later that night with a knowing glimmer in his eyes as his fingers reach out for his shoulder, “I’ve been listening to you flinch for three days straight.”

It has been three days since the open house. He doesn’t know if he should be grateful Buck waited until Christopher was at Abuela’s to bring this up or terrified he’s lost his child-buffer.

“Buck, it’s fine,” Eddie protests even as he holds still for Buck to palpate the area gently. “I am a medic, in case you forgot. I know what to look out for in healing wounds.” The warmth leaves his shoulder and he misses it instantly.

“I don’t know if you’ve heard, but apparently doctors make the worst patients,” Buck informs him, hands on his hips which pitch forward in a way Eddie desperately tries not to interpret as suggestive. This is just Buck peacocking to drop some knowledge. “There’s a reason docs aren’t allowed to diagnose or prescribe themselves anything. Meds and beds, Eds!” he decrees sunnily like the dork he is.

Buck slides one of the pain pills out of the child-and-shoulder-injury-proof bottle and Eddie takes it because breathing issues aside, he did overextend himself in physical therapy today and he’s not going to get any sleep without it. 

“Come on, let’s go.” Buck tips his chin imperiously towards the hallway, expecting Eddie to lead the way to his bedroom where he’ll take off his shirt for Buck to inspect both sides of the wound, clean it, and redress it, like they’ve done nearly a dozen times before. He’s dodged it for the past few days in deference to his sanity but he’s not getting out of it tonight.

Eddie gets up and leads the way, telling himself he’s only doing it as a pretense to turn away so the heat crawling up his neck isn’t be on full display but as he gets closer to his bedroom, his mind lifts the image of Buck’s large hands from the little girl’s waist, and the electric warmth of his touch on the couch, and drops it onto the image of Eddie’s bare, shirt-and-bandage-off skin and now his feet are just following orders from higher up the chain.

Eddie sits gingerly on the edge of his bed and forces himself to breathe normally as his eyes track Buck’s easy familiarity with the inside of his bedroom. Buck turns the bedside lamp on, then crosses to the dresser to pull a fresh shirt for bed which he chucks at Eddie’s head (only once he’s sure Eddie’s aware it’s coming), then ducks into the bathroom quickly to grab the dollar store basket with everything he’ll need.

Then Buck is helping him out of his sling and shirt and stepping closer until Eddie’s field of view narrows to a broad chest and flat stomach covered only by a thin, soft-looking dark red henley. Buck inches closer still as he concentrates on carefully pulling off the old gauze and his thighs press into the inside of Eddie’s knees.

His breath hitches.

“Sorry, sorry,” Buck mumbles.

Eddie doesn’t correct him.

This close, the heat from Buck’s body is slowly seeping into Eddie’s space, the skin on the inside of his knees already past the point of overheating, much like his face, neck and chest are. 

Buck’s hands are light as the pads of two fingers press around the skin around the stitching. “It’s...actually looking really good,” he says, puzzled but pleased. “Not red, no sign of infection. You do feel a little warm though.” 

No shit.

Buck shifts, moving one leg outside of Eddie’s knees to better look at the back of the wound and he says something but all Eddie can focus on is the 5 inches keeping Buck from essentially riding his thigh.

“Eds? Hey.” Buck calls for what sounds like the second or third time. “What’s hurting? Where are you feeli—” 

Buck is leaning back to better look at him and Eddie doesn’t know what his face is saying but no part of his body is less than overheating and thinks his eyes may be communicating this.

“It doesn’t hurt,” Eddie manages to get out.

“But…” Buck looks down, his body becoming tense with uncertainty. “You keep—”

“Yeah,” Eddie interrupts and he wants to blame the pain pill like he wanted to blame the bullet but Tylenol 3 barely makes people drowsy, it sure as hell isn’t responsible for people feeling up their best friends. And yet that’s what’s happening, apparently.

They both look down and watch as Eddie’s good hand slowly reaches out and settles on Buck’s hip, under his henley, fingers curling too naturally around his leather belt, the backs of his fingers pressing into Buck’s warm skin. Not only does Buck not reject the touch but he leans forward into it, his hands rising towards him but not landing. Eddie’s heart aches at the aborted motion and recognizes it for uncertainty. Buck’s not fully sure what’s happening but he’s willing to go along with whatever Eddie wants to do. 

Eddie doesn’t want that.

He uses the hand on Buck’s hip to move him back just far enough to leverage himself up so they’re on equal footing, though only one of them is half-naked.

“Eddie,” Buck begins, though it’s obvious he doesn’t know what words were meant to follow. He swallows convulsively and narrows his wide blue eyes to roam over his face. Eddie doesn’t miss the naked hope filtering into his expression, nor does he miss the anxious self-doubt behind it.

“Buck,” Eddie murmurs so reverently he’ll be embarrassed about it later. He lets go of Buck’s belt, and lays his hand flat on his ribs before slowly sliding it up to the crook of Buck’s neck in a move that leaves nothing to interpretation. Buck breaks out in a full-body shiver and he laughs breathlessly, embarrassed.

Eddie keeps his hand soft, careful, on Buck’s shoulder, his thumb brushing against his collarbone and Buck’s eyes are glued to its motion, his mouth parted slightly.

“Are—” Eddie clears his throat quietly. He doesn’t think he’s misreading but he has to know. “Are you into this?”

Instantly, Buck’s eyes snap up to his, vulnerable until he properly processes the question, then all traces of doubt clear in a blink and he’s treated to the laser focus of Buck’s hyperfixation dragging down his face to his mouth and Eddie’s breath hitches again. This time, Buck looks up with a cocksure grin tugging at his lips as he comes to understand what Eddie’s problem’s been these past few days.

Then the statue of Evan Buckley explodes into motion — his hands split their focus, one gliding across the bare skin of Eddie’s waist and gripping, the other carefully cupping his head a moment before his lips follow, landing just in front of his thumb on Eddie’s cheekbone and for a moment Eddie’s upset to have gotten this far and not have Buck’s lips on his. But then he realizes Buck is just as wound up as he is, and a wound up Buck is an aggressive force of passion looking for safe outlets who probably needs a moment and Eddie’s heart constricts tightly in his chest.

Finally, the wet drag of lips against his cheek veers downward and across, and Eddie’s mouth is engulfed in softness and heat. He’s pressing up into it, pushing up from the balls of his feet with his hand on Buck as leverage, pressing up and forward into Buck who takes it without moving an inch. He’s never had to reach up to kiss someone before, never felt evening stubble brushing against his and he’s keenly grateful to have this with Buck, something so different to mark this as not just another kiss, but a kiss with Buck. No ordinary thing.

One of them is making a noise but he can’t focus on that when he needs to get closer, needs to press in and through, needs to turn them and get Buck on the bed so he can—

“Ah!” Eddie gasps.

Buck’s lips are wrenched away, though his hands remain like hot brands on his skin. His eyes are wild and unfocused, his lips red and bruised and he’s panting, but his face is puckered with concern.

“Okay, that one was definitely pain,” Buck gasps, blinking back to some kind of lucidity.

Eddie winces, unable to deny the agony tearing through his shoulder.  “My fault,” he hisses. 

Buck frowns and only then realizes that the arm that should be in a sling is out of place because Eddie’s hand has gone rogue and reached out to hook into Buck’s pants pocket to pull him closer.

Buck winces in sympathy, though he’s not able to fully erase the laughter from his eyes or from the corner of his lips. He takes pity on Eddie though, and drops his hands to gently untangle Eddie’s clamped fingers and guide it back across Eddie’s body where the sling would be keeping it.

Once it’s back in its healing position, Eddie releases the breath he’d been holding and settles back into the familiar ache. Instead of releasing him, however, Buck covers the hand laying on Eddie’s ribs with his own, pressing enough to convey the command: don’t move, before leaning back in slowly to capture Eddie’s lips in a kiss achingly sweeter than before. It’s little more than their lips resting against each other but Eddie’s heart goes wild in his chest, matching whatever the hell butterflies are wreaking havoc in his stomach. 

Buck leans back for a split second, just long enough for them to open their eyes and check in before he’s swaying back in for a short kiss once, twice, and one final time before properly moving away and leaving Eddie cold.

“Meds and beds, Eds,” Buck orders with finality, softened by a rueful smile.

And Eddie, who’s never had a single positive thought about Abby Clark, thinks of her fleetingly as some kind of saint because somehow she resisted Buck — kissing him, touching him, even seeing him — for months on end and if Eddie wasn’t suddenly struck with a physically deep fatigue borne of pain and emotional epiphanies, he thinks he would be on his knees begging for Buck to come back into his arms right now. 

As it is, he studies Buck’s boyish grin and the fear in his eyes that his stopping this is a problem, and Eddie is filled with a helpless love that steals his breath again. Buck catches the hitch, understands it for what it is, and the tension leaks out of his shoulders.

He lets Buck help him put the night shirt and sling back on, his mouth curling into a smile with every gratuitous touch Buck allows himself, and catches that errant hand as it leaves his body, squeezing once before dropping into his pillows and giving in to sleep.

Eddie’s heart is definitely not working the same after the shooting.

He had a heart scare in high school that freaked him and his parents out. It benched him from the football team for nearly half a season until the doctors said it was something called premature ventricular contractions. It was supposedly benign and something most people will have at least once in their lives. It didn’t feel benign. It felt like his heart was stopping suddenly, then pressure building up in his chest before the next beat came and overcompensated by beating three times as hard as normal like a goddamn punch in the chest. It had kept him up at night, not from anxiety or anything, just because it was so disruptive, as if your head jerked on its own just as you were falling asleep. 

But he’d grown out of it after a few months and never really thought of it again until he got shot, realized he was in love with his best friend, and his heart started going out of whack again.

He was fairly sure it wasn’t PVC. Much like the breathing, there seemed to be a clear and defined trigger.

Such as Buck pressing a kiss to Christopher’s curls at the dining table as he geared up to leave for a Saturday shift. Then turning to Eddie waiting at the door, his eyes a lot darker than they’d been a moment ago, and pressing a lingering kiss to his cheekbone, in the very same spot as he had two days ago in his bedroom.

“Be good,” Buck murmurs, tugging lightly on Eddie’s sling strap before straightening out to pick up his bag.

Eddie wants nothing more than to catch his hand and pull him back in, hold him close so he can’t leave, and he’s pretty sure all that is painted clear as day on his face if the regret and longing that washes over Buck’s face is anything to go by. 

It’s a problem.

Eddie’s been trying to reign himself back in. Trying to find that stillness so he stops feeling like he’s going to buzz out of his damn skin. 

But then Buck is back from his shift and locking the door to Eddie’s bedroom, assuring him it’s “just so we have time to get some clothes back on if he needs us,” with a rakish grin and fuck if it doesn’t feel exactly like PVC - a sudden pausing of his heart as he tries to deal with all these emotions before they crash into him on the next beat. 

And he’d worry about it but Buck’s laying him out, pressing his hot mouth on every inch of skin he can uncover, setting his nerves off like electric pulses until all Eddie can hear is their panting and the rushing of blood in his ears. His heart is trying to beat its way out of his chest by the time Buck’s divested him of his sweats and boxers. But then Buck pauses and looks up for permission before continuing, and Eddie gets to look down and take in his best friend’s darkened blue eyes and ruddy cheeks and what his heart does is definitely not sex-related. Not only sex-related.

He nods helplessly and Buck grins with delight before taking Eddie’s dick into his mouth and if he thought his body felt different before, it’s nothing compared to being suddenly engulfed in the velvet heat of Buck’s mouth. Eddie’s good hand slaps down on the mattress and grips the sheets tightly. He’s about to bring up his fist to his mouth to do something, he doesn’t know what, when Buck anticipates danger and his strong fingers are gripping his other hand, forcing it to stay in place on his ribs. Eddie laughs breathlessly — the man can multitask. 

Eddie twists his fingers until they’re threading between Buck’s, who catches on and properly holds his hand as he takes Eddie apart. 

And Eddie...Eddie hasn’t had sex in a really long time, and he hasn’t been so fucking in love during sex in an even longer time so he’s not surprised when it’s only minutes later that he’s squeezing at Buck’s hand and gasping. “Buck...I’m gonna—” and he’s somehow not surprised when Buck hums his acknowledgement and presses himself closer and closer in until Eddie’s toes curl and his back bends and he’s shooting down Buck’s throat who stays in place until Eddie’s hissing from overstimulation. 

“Oh fuck,” Eddie says helplessly, his heart galloping, and another small laugh escaping him as he brings his good hand up to his forehead.

Buck climbs his way back up his body, sitting lightly right over his spent dick and he knows he shouldn’t torture himself but Eddie looks down and lets himself commit the image to memory until they can do that properly. Then he drags his eyes up and over Buck’s straining erection, his panting chest and up to that pleased goddamn smile. 

“Good?” Buck asks, cocky as he’s ever been.

“Good,” he laughs sarcastically. “I think you broke me. Dios, I think I need an ECG.”

Buck actually looks mildly concerned so Eddie reaches for him and Buck lets himself be pulled down by the nape until Eddie can lick into his mouth, going a little nuts over the taste of himself on Buck’s tongue. 

Eddie pulls his hand away from his nape to reach down for Buck’s dick, but Buck takes that as direction to sit up so Eddie pulls him back in until their lips are barely touching. He squeezes Buck’s nape, says firmly, “Stay,” and marvels when Buck’s eyes go wide, his face slackening, and a shiver running down his back. Fuck.

When Eddie pulls his hand away again, Buck stays, pressing his elbows on either side of Eddie’s head to keep himself in place until he catches onto Eddie’s plan.

“You don’t ha—”

“I still have one good arm,” Eddie retorts. “As it happens, I’ve gotten a lot of practice out of this one.”

Then his fingers curl around hot flesh and Buck jerks like he’s been struck.

“Easy,” Eddie soothes, craning up to remind Buck what he’s supposed to be doing. To his credit, it only takes the soft press of their lips to get him refocused, then Buck’s tongue is in his mouth while he pushes helplessly into Eddie’s hand. It’s dry because they didn’t plan this out beyond a heated look in the living room, but Buck’s leaking enough to provide at least some lubrication. In the end, he’s got about as much stamina as Eddie did and a few minutes of rutting into Eddie’s fist and attacking Eddie’s mouth is enough to set him off, his cum spilling over Eddie’s stomach in long pulses.

Eddie’s hand uncurls and smooths over the skin of Buck’s side, making long passes from hip to shoulder as Buck comes down from his high. On the fourth sweep, he trails his hand inward, over Buck’s waist and back up his ribs and chest in a move reminiscent of the night of their first kiss, but this time he stops in the middle, in the dip between his pecs.

“Looks like I’m not the only one who needs an ECG,” he grins.

Buck huffs with a grin that grows to overtake his face. “Less of a concern for young guys like me. You should probably get checked out though.” He leans back in to occupy Eddie’s mouth before he can think of a retort, but as the kiss devolves from heat and passion into sweet and lazy explorations, Eddie feels a distinctive disruption of rhythm in Buck’s chest and smiles.

Later, Buck gets up and gets them cleaned up with kleenex, except for the drops of cum caught on Eddie’s fingers. Those he takes into his mouth to clean thoroughly until Eddie feels himself getting hard again and has to call uncle. Buck dresses himself perfunctorily and helps Eddie back into his boxers before reaching for the sling and carefully threading it over Eddie’s arm and neck, squeezing his fingers before pausing and looking unsure.

“Should I—” He looks towards the door, beyond which is the hallway and living room where he’s been bunking down because Christopher’s in the house and they haven’t had time to talk about all this yet.

Instinctively, Eddie’s good hand reaches for his hip and grips gently but firmly. 

“Stay,” he says again, watching with clear eyes now how Buck’s eyes grow wider and his throat convulse. They’re definitely going to be exploring that in the future.

For now, Buck nods absently before smiling. He moves to the door only to unlock it and crack it open before returning to the bed and the domesticity of it twists Eddie’s heart one last time before he’s folded into Buck’s arms and succumbing to the darkness more easily than he can ever remember doing so before.

Eddie suffered a near-death experience on the job. Christopher almost lost his father. Buck almost lost his best friend. Getting shot again aggravated his PTSD. The bullet created cracks not only in his bones but in the shell casing he built around himself, the effects of which he’ll probably carry his entire life.

But he survived, he came home to his son. He’ll learn to be okay with loud, sudden noises again. He’ll learn to deal with the nightmares if they come back. He’s in physical therapy for the pain. And in the end, he can’t find it in himself to wish it had never happened. 

Not when he wakes up to Buck’s arms pressed against his bare skin, sharing his heat and feeling that electricity coursing softly just under his skin.

Not when he hears Christopher inching the door open in the morning and Buck beckoning him in while whispering, “We gotta be quiet, your dad’s still sleeping.”

Not when he loses his breath at Buck’s casual parental love as he twists to grab Christopher by the waist and heave him into the bed between them, causing the boy to giggle way too loud. 

Not when he paints an unimpressed smile on his face before rolling over dramatically, finding two too-innocent faces smiling back at him and he's struck dumb for just a second at the picture they paint, eyes wide and curls askew. 

Not when Christopher throws Buck under the bus, giggling “it was him!” and Buck takes his revenge in the form of tickles until they’re both pink-cheeked and laughing and the bed is shaking like it may not support them, and Eddie’s heart is so fucking full it may not even be able to beat anymore. 

Eventually, Eddie does feel a stillness rebuilding within him after the shooting, but it doesn’t feel like walls, it feels like love. It feels like peace.

[someonewhowannadielol]

My name is 01001010 01001011 (Alien!Jungkook! x Human!Reader)

Summary: “So you’re a human?” The alien that looked and acted like a human asked. The only difference between him and you was that he had two upside down triangles starting from his jaw going down under his shirt. Also, he was huge. “I’m talking 8 foot tall” huge.

Warning: Daddy kink, Dirty talk, size kink, cunt slapping, Jungkook being rlly big, fingering, nipple sucking (?), Dom/sub themes, and Jungkook being a curious alien.

Genre: Fluff, Smut

Word Count: 6.3k

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

COVID-19 vs Human kind. Human kind was pretty much fucked. In front of your eyes, the world population went from a staggering 8 billion people to an exponentially low 1 million. Within two years. It was in October 2020, when scientist realized that instead of working on a vaccine, they needed to discover a place where those free from this deadly disease could live. Safely and peacefully.

Then, the people of Jubal, stepped in, and it was pure chaos. You still remember the day, 14thof December 2020. Everywhere; social media platforms, billboards, NASA’s speech, everything revolved around the message they sent us. They wanted to help us. Surprisingly, we knew nothing about them, but they knew everything about us. From our appearance to our food, cultures, languages, and what not. It low key creeped you out, not going to lie.

Nonetheless, we began building the transport link through their help and finally, one year later (pretty much the brink of our extinction), we were on our way to a new life.

Honestly, you had imagined them to look like- or well, to not look like how they looked. You’d expected Pokémons, or weird looking octopus, or even insects. But they looked just like you, expect they were way bigger in size.

After half a month or so, you had started to get used to the atmosphere. Almost similar to Earth, there were two sides to this planet, a much hotter plane, where the temperature never went below 104 Fahrenheit. You remember going there when you first arrived here, and oh god, you hated it. The temperature was too high for you; they didn’t know what ice cream was (how can they not know! You thought they knew everything, yet they’re unaware about one of the most popular desserts on Earth), you absolutely hated sweating and no amount of air conditioning could stop it, and the beach just looked out of place. The sand wasn’t the usual pale brown shade, instead it was just the color of the ocean itself – it adapted to the shade of the flowing water into a green-blue hue. Weird. Also, there was one sun in the morning, and three in the evening, gradually coming as the hours passed by.  

You had also noticed that all of them ate food at the same temperature. Nothing was cold like ice, or hot like a fresh pizza. The concept was new to them, and when you asked for the water to be cold at the first restaurant you went to – the waiter just looked lost. The poor soul, he was told to make the humans feel at home, so when he realized he couldn’t do what you asked to, you just felt really bad. Still, it was funny that a seven-foot tall man was scared of you being uncomfortable. It was cute, honestly.

Also, almost similar to Earth, the two places had different types of Jubals living there. The sunny side had more tan skinned people, with bright, blond hair and bright eyes. Whereas, the cold plane Jubals had fairer skin, darker hair and doe eyes. The one similarity being – they were huge as fuck. The average height was around seven foot for men, and around six foot for females. So, standing at a 5 foot 2 inches (almost three inches I swear!), you felt tiny (and intimidated sometimes, but you weren’t going to admit that.

After finalizing that you definitely didn’t want to live in the hotter part of the planet, you moved to Corellia, it was cold there but not in the way you expected it to be. In the morning, it was perfectly fine, the cold breeze was nothing short of comfortable, but as the evening came, it started to get cold to the point where you couldn’t bear to go outside after 6 PM. Sometimes, you think you might have underestimated the cold here at night, because the two beautiful moons brought such intense cold that you wouldn’t dare go out at night. They gifted you a cozy one bed apartment with a really good heating system, which you appreciated. Also, you had never been so glad that you brought the microwave from Earth, without it, you didn’t know what you would do.

Ever since you moved, you had pretty much been lonely, because of the lack of contact with humans. Most of them preferred to live in the hotter state, wanting to get tanned - and to fuck the surfer Jubal hotties. You still remember parting with your sister and her ranting about this Jubal she met who was so “dreamy” and “good at surfing”.

As usual, you were just trying to get used to the food here, thankfully, they had a smaller section of “human,” food that mostly consisted of cup noodles, vegetables, chicken and chocolates. Getting groceries was intimidating at first (honestly, it kind of still is), because everyone and everything was so large, and everyone just kept staring at you. You still haven’t interacted with a Jubal on your own, it’s not like you were scared – you were – but also you didn’t really know how to go up to one. Until now, the only two Jubals you’ve met were the grocery store cashier and the landlord. Sigh.

You were so happy when you saw the new addition of real, organic milk in the grocery aisle! Thank god you got a break from that horrid almond milk. It was just water pretending to be milk honestly, and whenever you poured it in your cereal, it felt like drowning them in water, yuck. But, as much as you could try, you just would not reach the goddamn shelf. Why did these Jubals have to be so tall! Why couldn’t they just make this aisle according to human size!

You heard someone shuffle behind, but paid no heed until you heard laughter burst and immediately looked back to see one of them laughing so hard, his body shook.

“You- you’re so tiny!” He barely managed to get that sentence out of him, since he couldn’t stop his outburst.  

Of course, you were offended.

“I’m actually not! You all are way too big!” You didn’t really know how to respond, because this was just so sudden.

“Hm, I don’t think so, you’re smaller than average earthlings. But it’s okay, because it’s adorable,” so, you were really surprised when you felt him behind you, reach up to the milk shelf and grab a container of it. Of course, being the dumb idiot you were, you suddenly turned around and had to face him again. You hadn’t noticed his physical features before, but now that you did. Holy shit.

He was tall (I know, it’s obvious by now), and had such, clear, fair skin. Two upside down triangles were on each side of his jaw and went down, disappearing under his coat. He looked at you with such doe, curious eyes, almost as if he was entertained by your mere presence.

“Here you go,” he handed you the container of milk – while still being really close (not that you minded it). Despite the irritatingly bright fluorescent store lighting, his hair shined, and looked so soft.

And after that, he just followed you around the store, and you honestly didn’t really know what to do.

“You know, I’ve been trying to find a human since a month now, but I’ve heard most of them moved to the Southern part. You should’ve done that too, because Corellia is too cold for you. You’re a little slow,”

And you’re a little piece of shit.

“But now I found you. You’re really adorable, the books didn’t tell me that. Ever since humankind moved here, I’ve been really studying Earth. Did you guys really had pink leaved trees? And forests? It must be so cool for so many trees to be in one place. I also really want to meet a lion,”

“You can’t just meet a lion,” you chuckled, he was weird, but somehow, it wasn’t awkward around him. He radiated this warm energy that you hadn’t seen in the Jubal people around you, and it was comforting, made you want to stay by his side – even if it meant answering his dumb questions.

“I can, you can’t. It would eat you, because you’re bite sized for it,” he continued to comment on your petite stature, and the worst part is that you couldn’t even defend yourself, especially when he kept towering over you.

“Hey! Stop making fun of me,” you tried to push him but the basket was too heavy for you, so you ended up just… awkwardly not being able to do it. Suddenly his – huge – hand swoops in and carries the heavy grocery basket as if it was nothing.

“You should’ve told me it was too heavy for you,” he sounded almost as if he was scolding you, and coo-ing at you at the same time. His eyebrows bunched up in frustration as he mumbled something along the lines of ‘how can I protect you if you won’t tell me what you need,’ but you couldn’t really make out what he said.

You were just pulled out of your thoughts when you heard him put something in your basket. Something that the Jubals ate, not humans.

Should I ask him to leave? No, that’s way too rude. Then, should I ask him why he’s following me?

“This is delicious, you should try it,” He spoke while continuing to look around the store, and put random items in your basket. There was a variation of their fruits (this one had a gradient of yellow and orange, with huge spikes coming out from the top), cans with God-knows-what inside (the one he put in your basket had cherry colored pentagons on it, and a juice bottle that contained neon green juice. You were not looking forward to drinking that.

“I don’t even know how to make all of this. What if I can’t eat it?” You were scared of most of these food items, you got sick easily, and didn’t know how to cope if you fell sick here. Without the medicines, you’d probably die.

“I’ll cook it for you if you want to,” He looked at you and smiled, “I know humans are fragile, so don’t worry, I made sure to get the ones which would be safe for you,” he said, while petting your hair, and smiling. You instantly fell in love with it, it wasn’t like the way he laughed at you earlier, but somehow, it was far more beautiful. His eyes crunched up into half-moons, cheeks being bunched up, he almost looked like the small bunny you had as a pet when you were younger. So. Cute.

“But I don’t even know your name, why would you do this for me?” You really were curious, why was a Jubal so interested in humans? So far, most of them have just maintained a distance from you.

“Because I want to keep you,” he looked at you, and the duality of his presence made you shiver. The small bunny smile morphed into a more serious face, his already dark brown eyes, turned into a slightly darker shade, giving you the chills.

“You can’t keep me,” you didn’t know how to fight this argument, you almost wanted to laugh and act as if you thought it was a joke, but you weren’t an idiot – and nor was he.

“I know, I can’t find the Earth word for it, I want to be with you, is what I mean,” he mumbled as he tried to find something in the cereal aisle.

The grocery trip was actually not as weird as you’d expect it to be. While you both didn’t know anything about each other, not even names (not that Jubals had actual names, they just talked through their minds?)

And as soon as you reached the cashier, before you could even take out your money, he nod, and paid the bill.

“Hey! I can pay for myself, you don’t have to do this!”  

Honestly, you didn’t really know what to say after he said, “I’m paying, now be a good baby and stand still,” where did he even learn to speak like that?

It was starting to get cold now, and after you exited the heated mall, it was visible that you shivered every time the cold brushed up against your figure. You should’ve worn the third sweater, sigh.

“So you’re really a human?” He said, as he carried your groceries and followed you, on your way to the apartment.

“Yeah, I’m Y/N,”

“How can you be a Y/N? You just said you were a human,” He asked, really confused. Were you pranking him? He learnt in (one of his many books about humans) that humans liked to prank each other for entertainment. He found the idea amusing, but right now he couldn’t decide whether you were pranking or joking.

He didn’t understand the difference between pranking and joking, either.

“I-  What? No, I mean I am a human, but my name is Y/N,” you were definitely amused at his seriousness, yet you couldn’t help but be intimidated by his tall figure. Also, you felt bad that he was holding all the groceries, so you decided to grab one of the bags from him.

“Y/N!” He stopped dead in his tracks after your fingers brushed against his, “I just remembered you can’t bear the cold after 6pm, so you have to wear many clothes to protect yourself. You’re already so cold,” he felt your hand, and his was so warm and felt right, intertwined in your hand. His hand was so huge, that it enveloped yours easily, and you could really notice the size difference now. 

He quickly transferred all the grocery bags into his left hand, and continued to give you his coat, and held your hand again, and it felt… nice. The fact that he smelled so good, helped too, you couldn’t exactly put your finger on it, but it was really comforting. 

You were quite used to the stares you got on the streets from other Jubals, and always thought that they would go away, but it’s been two weeks, yet they still continue to look at you up and down, so you finally asked him. You still didn’t know his name, and didn’t know whether you should ask him or not, was it insulting?

“Why does everyone keep staring at me?”

“Because you’re so cute,”

What. It was almost like you forgot how to breathe. How could he say that all of a sudden, out of the blue? Also, you actually could not breathe, because while he had long legs that lasted for days, you had much smaller legs and it was starting to get hard to keep up.

“Hey! Could you walk-” you took in a breath, wow, your stamina was really, uh, shitty, “could you walk a little slow?”

He looked back at you, and tilted his head almost as to ask ‘why?’, but understood quickly. Then, he flashed one of his cute smiles, again, the smile that did things to your heart that you hadn’t felt before.

“Do you want me to carry you?” He also had read previously that humans can get really tired, and sometimes not even have the strength to move on. Especially females, they were more fragile, and he could physically see that too, because you were just so small. The average height was supposed to be 5’4 or even 5’6 for human females around your age, but you seemed smaller than that. But you also didn’t seem to be a child because those under the age 18 were always with their parents right? He had almost started to doubt those textbooks he bought on humans.

“No, I can walk myself,” You tried to defend yourself, and started to mentally curse as to why you asked him to slow down.

You finally reached your apartment door. Honestly, you had thought that he would stop following you after you reached the apartment building… but he just continued to bring the groceries in.

Should you invite him in? Did you even clean your living space? You probably had your underwear lying all over the place, since now you lived alone and had no fear of someone else coming in your private space.

“Can I come in?”

Well, you didn’t want to say no to him, he’s been really nice so far, and you had to admit, picking up groceries was really hard to do, and you weren’t exactly physically active enough to carry all those bags that he easily carried in one hand.

He then walked himself to the door after putting the groceries in the kitchen. What really surprised you was how he looked back at you, not how he looked before. Before, he looked with warmth, and now. Now, he almost towered at you, reminding how much power he really has over you. He looked at your lips, and then back at your eyes and tilted his head.

“W-well, it was really nice to meet you,” you said trying to break the tension and to distract yourself from the obviously gorgeous man.

“I hope to see your cute face again soon,” he smiled one of his bunny smiles again, and kissed you on the cheek before disappearing under the stairs.

You curled yourself up in your blanket, and tried to sleep, but that Jubal kept intruding your thoughts. 

Would you get to see him again?

The next time you saw the cute Jubal from the grocery store was next week Saturday. On Earth, entertainment was in the form of movies, arcades and concerts. Similarly, here too, people had a theatre – instead of a movie on a projector, it was shown in 3D form, almost like a live performance, expect there were holographic figures.

You looked around, and by now you had taken into account that Jubal people weren’t afraid to show off their skin – even though it was crazy cold here, their bigger bodies could compensate by giving them more body heat. Unfortunately, your smaller stature couldn’t provide you with the same amount of heat and you always had to bundle up in three or even four layers to keep yourself from freezing or catching a cold.

You were watching a really heated up scene, and it was getting kind of… uncomfortable. While others were simply watching casually, as if it was nothing out of the ordinary, you kept shuffling in your seat – so it was a pleasant surprise when you felt someone cover your eyes from behind you.

“Wha-” instinctively, you looked behind, and it was the same boy (or man?), from the grocery store.

“Hey,” again, you waved at him, almost as a form of habit, and he looked at you as if you did something quite weird. Without any questions, he tried to imitate you, but he was really stiff so you couldn’t help but let you a laugh.

“I know I didn’t introduce myself much better last time, but we don’t really have names. Still, I decided to get one for myself, because once I get a human, she should be able to call me something,”

Did he… did he mean that you were his human?

“Well, what did you settle for?”

“My name is 01001010 01001011. I thought it was really similar to the ones that humans have. Do you like it?” He asked with a proud grin, as his face lit up.

You tried to keep your laughter in, you really did but you when it did come out, you felt like wanting to die. His face crumpled up almost as if he was ashamed of his name as he increased the distance between the two of you.

Nice one, Y/N, you made the only person who cared enough for you sad.

“Hey, look, it’s a nice name, it’s just not very human-like,” you explained to him.

“It’s the binary code for a human name,”

Because of the constant conversation you both were immersed in, the Jubals beside you were starting to get annoyed – and while they didn’t say anything, probably because they didn’t want you to feel bad (you still did, for trying to ruin their experience for this live-movie thing), you decided to head out with him.

As you both walked in one of the main parks situated in the middle of Corellia state, he settled on a spot in the corner of the massive area.

“Would you like to give me a name?” he looked at your face with such intensity, that you couldn’t help but feel insecure and want to cover your face.

“Well, what did those binary numbers represent?” you really did want to help his get a name, after all, he was your first friend here.

“I want to be called JK, but my friends told me it was a ridiculous human name, because no one was named JK before. So I settled for its binary number. They approved of that,” his eyes shone of much when he talked about it, his long lashes were uprightly curved and you couldn’t help but swoon.

You fiddled with your sweater as you gave him suggestions, but none seemed to suit him.

“Jake? No,” you were starting to get frustrated at this, “Hm, maybe Jacob?” you shook your head again, unsatisfied.

He just simply continued to laugh at you being so serious, occasionally playing with hair and pressing a finger to your soft cheeks. When he commented on you being soft, you couldn’t help but blush (and when he compared you to one their red fruits, you couldn’t help but blush harder (you denied it, obviously)).

“Jungkook!” you remember reading that word in one of the books you had in high school literature.

“Jungkook? Do you like it, baby?” He played with your cheeks with happiness, he was happy that you were no longer frustrated or angry. Finally satisfied and happy. Of course, you blushed at the word of endearment, but didn’t tell him to not say it.

Oh. Well, after that, he just continued to ask you about humans, and more specifically about you. You were amused by most of his questions,

“What is sarcasm?”

“Why do you like pizza so much, when it’s detrimental for your health? You shouldn’t eat it, I’ll make good food for you,”

“How do you make stereotypes?”

“Why do people get cosmetic surgery?”

And each one of them seemed normal for a Jubal to ask until,

“Why do humans like cuddling?”  

At this point, you were quite tired, but still thought it would rude to ask him out, because he seemed really curious, every question coming right after you answer the last one.

“I guess, we just like to be touchy and close,” you said and you tried to suppress a yawn, but it just slipped.

“What was that? Was that a sigh? Or a yawn? Are you tired? That was so cute, do it again,”

“Just a little tired,” you said as you rested you head on his shoulder without realizing to do so. It was also getting really cold; the second moon had started to show up.

You both got up, and the walk back home was really pleasant. He kept cracking jokes and dancing on the pavement. You tried to imitate his dance, but your flow wasn’t as steady as his. How could someone dance so good like this, yet not be able to wave correctly? Your fingers intertwined again, and you leaned more into his body this time. You could barely reach his mid chest, that’s how tall he was. But somehow, you didn’t mind it because you both fit so perfectly – as if two parts of one puzzle.

As you reached the door of your apartment door again, you felt Deja-vu. He looked at your face, studying it carefully and looking back at your eyes, however instead of just looking at your lips this time, he leaned closer and looked back at you – almost as if asking for permission to kiss you. You nodded, and wow.

As his lips drew closer to yours, you could feel him cupping your face with both hands, one of them gradually descending to the back of your head as it found its place in your hair. They were incredibly soft, and almost overpowered you, because you didn’t expect this. As he slid his tongue and slowed himself, you found yourself wanting more, leaning towards him.

Before realizing that you needed to breathe, you started to choke, as he pulled himself back, and chuckled before saying, “Baby girl, take it slow, I’m all yours.”

“Want more,” is all you can say before leaning towards him, wanting to kiss him again. But unlucky for you, he just moved back before laughing again, and this time you pouted and slightly punched his chest.

“Now, you’re just being a brat, baby, you’ll get what I’ll give you, understand?” You could feel his breath fanning your face, and his eyes were no longer twinkling like they did, but instead were full of lust and an animalistic hunger.

‘’Jungkook, please,” you had never really been serious with boys in your high school, and so, this was the first time you had actually felt something down there. It was almost like someone – or Jungkook – lit a fire in your core, and you couldn’t help but just want more.

Fumbling hands opened the door to the apartment and you both tumbled in, messily but both of you didn’t care as you headed to your bedroom. On the way, he messily kissed your neck that made your knees buckle in a way that even walking was difficult.

He tossed you gently on your bed, that was way too big for the apartment, and ran his fingers through your hair, to you neck, and to your chest. He attacked your neck again, and started to form a pattern with his tongue as he pressed harder on some areas and trailed lighter on others.

You couldn’t help but let a whine escape your mouth when he left your neck unattended to take off your sweaters and cardigans till you were only in your undergarments and a see-through white dress.

“Fuck, baby girl, you’re so beautiful,” he said as he attacked your lips again, this time being harsher with his movements, as his tongue slipped in your mouth, doing wonders to his body.

“J-Jungkook, please,” you felt so much, so sudden, and even in this cold, the heat was too much for you – the heat inside you wanted to escape, but you didn’t know how to ask him.

“Yes, baby? Tell me what you want,” his amused voice made it obvious as to what you wanted, but still he continued to tease you, torment you, put you on the edge, “Tell daddy what you want,”

You took in a gasp as he unbuckled your bra strap from behind, free-ing your breasts, and the very next second, tore your fragile dress.

“Hm, tell me baby girl,” he asked you once again, as he took in one of you nipples in his mouth, his tongue encircling your bud, as one of his hands pinched the other one.

“Jungkook I-” you gasped as you felt a slap on your clit, it wasn’t that harsh because he was being careful, and you were still in your panties – but it just turned you on more.

“Baby, you have to call me Daddy, do you understand?” he said as his free wrist kept putting pressure on the top of you panties, making you want to rip them off, so you could finally feel him where you wanted to.

“Yes,” you said, and whined after he took off his mouth from your nipple to look at you, and after a second you understood what you had to say, “Yes Daddy, I understand,”

“Such a good girl for me, so pretty,” he said as he kissed your cheek, and you just couldn’t stop blushing. He was so harsh, yet so gentle at the same time – and it made your head spin.

“Now, be a good baby, and tell Daddy what you want him to do to you,” he said as he neared your ear, “does baby want daddy to wreck her pussy?”

You couldn’t help but shiver before speaking, “I want Daddy to make me feel good,”

His fingers slowly trailed your body, making you moan and buckle your body up towards him. You looked at him, his ears tinged red, and his eyes were darker than before, he almost looked like a fallen angel. He chuckled, looking at you seem so helpless, so fragile.

You were so soft, so ethereal, like an angel from the sky and he was there to taint you, to make you his.

He teased you by playing with the band of your underwear, he put two fingers in your mouth and you instantly slicked them with your saliva, making obscene noises that blended in with your moans. Then he trailed those two fingers right above your covered clit, and you couldn’t help but buckle up again, wanting those two fingers inside of you.

“Be patient, princess,” and it felt like an eternity as he circled his tongue in your belly button and it so, so, so slowly trailed down and down, and he finally took off your panties with his teeth.

“So wet, baby, you’re making a mess,” he commented as he rubbed you with one finger, and using the other one to encircle your hole. He pushed it a little inside, easily as your slick helped him, before looking back at you to see if you were comfortable, and when he got the green light, he continued to push it entirely in, “Such a good baby for me, think you can handle Daddy’s cock?”

You nodded in exasperation, his finger was long and hit all the right spots, but you needed more. He added another finger, while rubbing your clit with more pressure and making circle patterns with his tongue below your belly button. You were so near, so so near, you just needed that one push off the edge.

“Well, you’re going to have to work for Daddy’s cock, baby, think you can take this monster?” He took out his finger with a pop, as soon as he felt you clench down on his finger.

“Daddy, f-fuck me, please,” you moaned, missing his touch. He looked just as a mess as you were, panting and taking off his shirt. You continued to admire his body, he didn’t look buff like gym rats, but instead he had a lean, slightly muscular body.

He continued to tease you by biting his lip and taking off his boxers extremely slowly. You whimpered when his cock was free against his stomach, and it was bigger than any you’ve been before while watching porn. It was even bigger than the dildo your friend bought as a joke for your birthday present, and you had started to doubt if he would fit inside of you.

“Suck Daddy if you want to cum, princess,” he groaned as he pumped himself a couple of times before you put your mouth on his head.

Not having any experience before, you didn’t really know how to start, but you gave little kitten licks at his head, and then took it in your heated mouth. He didn’t taste how you had imagined, instead it was more like a salted caramel toffee you had, it was delicious and you wanted more. You continued to take more, and more of him and suddenly gagged because you couldn’t take anymore – only to realize you had only taken half his dick in your mouth.

“Can’t handle more? I guess you’re too small for Daddy’s big cock, huh?”

The thought of his not fucking you was almost terrifying at this point and you continued to let your throat loose and tale more of him, until you felt his cock twitch, which made you moan. Tears spilled out as he fucked your throat, fast and hard. 

“Such a good, pretty baby for daddy, taking my cock so good, princess,” he groaned before pushing in it a couple of times and taking it out.

“Such a naughty baby, making Daddy almost cum,” he kissed you again, tasting his own cum, before dipping down again, “you need to be punished, huh?”

“Daddy, please t-touch me,” you whined, grabbing his hand and putting it in between your thighs, and surprisingly he slapped your inner thigh.

“Being such a bratty baby now, I guess I do need to punish you, you don’t deserve Daddy’s fingers,” he said trailing again lightly all over body, but stopping as soon as he neared where you needed him the most, “touch yourself,”

You were dumbfounded, but when you saw his serious look, you shyly dipped your finger into your heat, and circled them around, but even after two fingers, it just wasn’t enough. You wanted more, you needed more.

“Daddy, please, I c-can’t, I need you,” you cried out while rubbing yourself between your legs, filled with your slick.

“Such a needy princess, always demanded Daddy,” he tsked before adding two fingers inside you, and as you gasped, “but Daddy adores you, so he’ll help his pretty little baby,”

You moaned, not holding back, as he pumped those fingers, and let his tongue work magic on your clit. He continuously pumped his fingers back and forth, while torturing your bud and the heat inside of you kept growing and before you realized it, “Jungkook, I’m going to cum!”

“Cum on my fingers, baby, go on,” his movements became more faster and you trembled under gaze, and unconsciously arched your back before letting yourself loose. It felt like heaven.

Even after this, you had been surprised to see that he didn’t stop and the stimulation was too much for you, as you tried to get away from him, but he held you in place, his wrist holding your pelvic in place.

Despite your whimpering and moans, he took his mouth to your perked up nipple again, and scissored his fingers, to prepare you for his cock. Then, he looked at you, cupped you face and kissed you again, this time more soft, as if you were a china doll, going to break at any given moment.

After letting his dick sit on your bud, he slowly let the head of his cock find your entrance and pushed it slightly. You let out a cry, he was too big for you, but he shushed you and pressed against your lips again before letting it enter little by little. You quickly grab his upper arm and clench it, the pain and pleasure were starting to combine again and you nodded, letting him know that it was okay to continue.

The raw emotion in his eyes was enough to let you go on, and when you were finally full, you looked down only to find you could only take half of him, he was just too big for you.

“Baby, fuck, you’re too tiny, can’t even take all of me,” he groaned before moving slowly, and then finally setting a pace that was safe, but unsatisfactory for you.

“J-Jungkook, f-fas-ter please,” you whined as he started becoming harsher, and his finger started abusing your bud again, and you couldn’t help but realize you were close again. This time, it felt more intense, more powerful.

He was so big, that you could feel him everywhere, it almost felt like he was ripping you apart, but the pleasure was almost overwhelming and the way his cock filled you up made you insatiable – you just wanted more, and more. You could feel your walls being pushed everything he buckled inside you, but he just did it so right.

“Baby, you’re so cute, gonna cum for Daddy?” he kissed your nipple and trailed up to your lips before diving a tongue into your moaning mouth. You nodded, and felt your second release come near.

“J-Jungkook, you feel so good,” you moaned as your walls clenched around his cock, and finally you gushed out, and trembled as you rode your orgasm. Simultaneously, he too, slammed his hips a couple times before cumming deep into you. As he took himself out, cum poured out of you, and he chuckled before taking it and spreading it over your face. Globs of cum covered your red cheeks and entered your mouth.

“You look so pretty with my cum on you face, keep it there until tomorrow morning,” he kissed your nose and coo-ed when you squirmed in embarrassment.

You could feel tugging and pulling when you felt someone wake you up and instinctively, you said, “Just five more minutes.”

“But you said that the last time,” Jungkook looked at you, his breathe fanning your face.

Too close, too close, too close. You looked at other way and tried to close your eyes.

“You’re so cute, like a small puppy,” he coo-ed at you, making your stomach feel things you’ve never felt before.

“I- I’m not like a puppy!” You tried to fight back in your sleep, but couldn’t help the blush forming on your cheeks and ears.

You could feel the dried up cum on your face, and wanted to wash it off, but feeling too sore to move.

“Can’t move, princess? Was Daddy’s cock too much for you, last night?” he coo-ed at you, mumbling about how cute you were, and how he wanted to baby you and make you his.

“I’m too sore, Kookie,” you whined into the pillow and were taken by surprise when he lifted you and carried you to the tub.

“It’s okay, I’ll take care of my little human baby girl,” he said as he laid you in the lukewarm water and washed your body softly.

CLICK HERE FOR PART TWO

You were starting to feel more at home, even more than when you were at Earth.

A/N: That’s a wrap! Hope you like it. Go to master link for more!

[phynali]

another post about the secret good supernatural that lives in my brain

where’s that interview or convention quote from mark sheppard about how he wishes Rowena had been Crowley’s ex-wife instead of mother?

i absolutely love Rowena and Ruth O’Connell did an incredible and fantastic job with bringing her to life, but i do feel like that’s the world’s most Valid critique. 

and i kind of get that the show’s later seasons really like to dabble in the parenthood narratives, with Rowena, with Mary, with the Jack storyline, with Lebanon. what does it mean to be a mother/father/parent, and how do we do the best by our kids? what happens when we fuck up? what happens when we’re selfish? how do experience being a person and a parent when those are in conflict?

but i don’t see how making rowena into crowley’s mother really added to any of those conversations, tbh. 

if anything, them as exes would give a lot more weight to her, y’know, killing her (other) son at the end of s10. obviously she’s got this “i hate that i can’t hate you i hate that i love you” maternal thing with crowley but what if she was killing her son and crowley was thinking about the kid crowley had all those years ago who also gets resurrected when rowena is around and who crowley has to let go of, right? i mean what if that was both their kid? what if they had to mutually watch him die? what if that’s why they hated each other in the first place? what if crowley made that stupid childish deal he did just to punish himself for rowena leaving him after their son died and he blamed himself and meanwhile rowena went and got herself invested in witchcraft in a vain and failed attempt to bring their kid back and everything about them went to shit - 

god, i want this so badly now?

and i see why they might not have wanted to reduce all their stories to siblings or lovers, why other dynamics keep things fresh, but i think exes who still get along but also can’t stand one another but also love one another but are never, ever getting back together and that’s for the best but also if you lay a finger on him i’ll kill you only i get to kill him - 

well i just think that’s a bit more interesting than what we got? especially with lucifer thrown in the mix and the obvious infidelity feelings. right now lucifer and rowena reads as abusive romance but they didn’t lean into any paternal dynamic between lucifer and crowley, like it’s just pure debasement on an equal level, and they obviously just did not know or were too afraid to tap the very disturbing familial parallels they could have setup there so why even paint themselves into that corner? 

why not setup lucifer and crowley as romantic rivals, neither of whom actually want rowena or a relationship but both of whom play tug-of-war with the loyalty and allegiance of women because they’re awful people (devils, literally) and why not have rowena’s narrative involve rejecting all of that bullshit and overcoming the inherent misogyny. not to say there’s not some of that in her maternal storyline as well but it’s - empty? in comparison (by which i mean delivery). and much better explored with mary in s12.

and the samwena vibes would be so fascinating!! if rowena was crowley’s ex the show might have actually dug into crowley and sam’s super interesting and massively under-explored dynamic because the weird jealousy and territorialness would be so goddamn fun!! 

“no i don’t want to be with her but no she is not allowed to flirt with you what the hell do you mean you’re the one destined to kill her oh fucking no you aren’t that is my job she broke my heart and i am the king of hell, not you mr boy-fucking-king-who-abdicated so you will pry the right to kill her from my cold dead demon hands i will save her life just so you don’t get to kill her you bastard - “

come on! 

right now samwena and crowley was super under-explored as it is, and at minimum we 150% deserved crowley being cheeky with sam for having chemistry with his mother and sam being a little flustered/unsure how to respond while inevitably sassing crowley back. please. it would be so weird. you cannot convince me that the crowley we know and love wouldn’t have deliberately flirted with mary just to see sam’s eye twitch and for dean to break a tooth by tensing his jaw too hard. i mean it wouldn’t work because mary hates demons almost as much as sam but it would be in character and it would delight me, personally.

anyway i also saw someone else comment that when rowena was introduced the witchcraft in the show went from super fucking dark (how it was introduced to the show in kripke era, then left mostly untouched in s6-9) to pretty purple sparkles and tbh that’s so true and also dull? like rowena was legit introduced in the process of reading a book and drinking tea (or wine?) while two guys bled out slowly on her ceiling held up by her dark af magic and by the end she’s just ...  doing spells that sam and dean have no moral compunctions about using? dabb do you know what horror is as a genre why did you change the genre of this show in its final 3 seasons? why did we not get to retain the dark and demonic aspects of witchcraft? 

i am so disappointed at how they watered down so many different things with rowena and final note she absolutely should have fucked sam literally any other character behind the bookstacks except gabriel omg.

[foilfreak]

Beauty and Her Beast: Chapter 4

Warning: This fic is rated NSFW and contains graphic depictions of things some people may find disturbing or alarming, including, but not limited to: violence, gore, unhealthy family relationships, Oedipus complexes, gratuitous amount of pornographic literature, ableist language, physical, mental, and emotional abuse, etc. If you are someone who does not enjoy fiction with these elements in them, then I suggest you refrain from reading this, because this fic will have all that, and probably a lot more. So, this is your first and final warning to turn around and go somewhere else if stuff like this just isn't your vibe, because from this point forward, your emotional wellbeing is in your own hands, and I will not be accepting blame if you disregarded my warnings and ended up reading something you didn't like. Idk why I feel compelled to write one of these despite this being Resident Evil fanfic, but I figured I'd cover my ass just in case.

(Link to ao3 version in comments below)

Upon returning to the surface again, Mother Miranda seems confused, but mostly relieved, that Salvatore did not show interest in lingering in the village any longer than necessary. Though Salvatore did end up needing to stay for one last brief conversation, in which he and Mother Miranda discussed various parts of Nadine’s file, as well as finalized the date and approximate time in which Salvatore could expect the villagers to arrive at the reservoir gate with his gift in tow.

2 days from now, was the final agreement, as it would ensure that Salvatore would be the first of the Lords to receive his gift, making up for the fact that he was the last of them to pick. It also permitted him the luxury of some spare time to prepare a new permanent living environment of some kind for his gift. Whatever the hell that was supposed to mean.

Regardless, Once their conversation finally concluded, Salvatore bid his beloved Mother a quick, but appropriately appreciative thank you and goodbye, before closing the large wooden door to the meeting room and trudging back out into the cold, harsh winter snow. Despite a lack of improvement in the weather since Salvatore’s initial journey into the village, the mutant man maintained a solid pace through the snowy paths, seemingly uninhibited by the forceful winds attempting to throw him from his course.

With little time remaining, Salvatore wanted to return to his reservoir as quickly as possible to begin making preparations; though, what exactly it was he was supposed to do in order to prepare for a tiny, beautiful, and apparently violent cadou-mutant woman to begin living in his reservoir with him, once again, Salvatore still had no idea.

Grimacing in frustration, the hooded man wracked his brain for something to do, some way for him to make a good “first” impression with his new gift when she finally arrives. Something that would catch her fancy and hopefully convince her that, despite his terrifying appearance, he wouldn’t harm her and merely wanted to be friends.

Well… technically speaking Salvatore wanted a great deal more than just friendship from the young woman, however given how low his chances are of ever achieving the former, the mutant man decided that he’d happily squash his vile and disgusting desires down deep within himself if it meant he’d gain at least something similar to a friendship with Nadine.

He’d been doing the same with Mother for all these years, so it wasn’t like it was going to be difficult… hopefully.

Upon returning to his reservoir finally, Salvatore retreated from the harsh weather, deciding that he’d likely have a much easier time cleaning if he waited the snowstorm out and got started in the morning, instead. Once the skies had cleared and the sun had just begun to peak over the mountaintop horizon however, Salvatore immediately set to work cleaning up the areas surrounding the reservoir.

It wasn’t until after several hours of diligent gathering and disposing of the numerous unsightly piles of rotting wood and garbage lying around, that the unusually bright and hopeful atmosphere surrounding the reservoir was rudely disrupted by a surprise visitor Salvatore would have never seen coming in a million years.

“HEY, FISHFACE, WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU? I gotta talk to you about something, so hurry up and crawl out of your sewer system so we can get this over with, already” Karl’s rough and booming voice echoed out from somewhere within the reservoir.

Salvatore flinches in fearful surprise at the demanding voice, wondering what on earth could possibly have brought Karl, the notorious recluse of the family who never left his factory unless bribed or threatened, all the way out here to the reservoir. And to speak to HIM, on top of all that too.

Despite not feeling like subjecting himself to Karl’s recent tendency toward physical abuse disguised as “brotherly affection”, Salvatore sighs and swims his way toward his younger brother’s voice anyways, knowing that ignoring Karl would only prompt the younger man to actually enter the reservoir in search of him, which was the absolute last thing Salvatore needed right now.

“Mornin’, brother! It’s about fuckin’ time you answered the door. You were taking so long I was beginning to wonder if you’d finally decided to run away and live out the rest of your life as an actual fish, like I suggested to you at the last “family” meeting” Karl says bluntly, clad his characteristic attire of green sunglasses, a brown hat atop his head, a long tan trench coat covering his day clothes, various items strung around his neck, and large titanium hammer.

“H-hello, Karl... W-why is it th-that you’re h-here for?” Salvatore asks slowly, peering at the younger, but taller man from behind the only partially opened gate.

“Hey, hey, come on now, Sal, what’s with the cold welcome? Am I not allowed to visit my favorite older brother without a specific rhyme or reason. I think you’ll be surprised to know that I was actually already in the area, and wanted to stop by and see if you were in the mood for a chat. You know, like old times?” Karl says defensively, placing both his hands up as Salvatore narrows his eyes at the younger man.

Salvatore was a lot of things, but stupid most certainly wasn’t one of them, regardless of what other people thought. While it might be true that, when Karl was first introduced to the family as a child following his successful cadou mutation, they had something of a positive older-younger brother relationship that lasted a good many years into Karl’s adulthood, that relationship has been growing progressively shakier and unstable over the past few years, at least it has during the times Karl has acted like Salvatore wasn’t the only one to reach out and attempt to connect with the emotionally volatile, but secretly terrified young boy, when he first arrived.

Deep down, Salvatore still had something of a soft spot for Karl, a soft spot that he occasionally allowed himself to indulge in whenever Karl wasn’t acting like a royal asshole, but those moments of peace and solidarity between oldest and youngest brother had been few and far in between recently. Not to mention that Salvatore would be lying if he said he wasn’t growing increasingly more suspicious and distrustful of Karl and whatever secrets the younger man was hiding in that factory of his. He hadn’t the slightest idea what he could be up to, but something told Salvatore that Karl had more reason to be here than just pure coincidence.

“P-perhaps… what i-is it that you w-want to t-talk about?” Salvatore replies curtly, not wanting to just go along with whatever Karl wanted, but for some reason still willing to give the younger man a chance to prove himself.

Taking a brief moment to look over both his shoulders, Karl places the heavy end of his hammer on the ground and leans inward toward Salvatore, lowering his voice as he whispers, “You see your gift from Mother yet?”

This question took Salvatore by surprise, not expecting the gifts Mother Miranda had given them to be the reason why Karl was here.

“I… I h-have… why?” The disfigured man asks curiously, pushing the gate open a little further so that Karl, despite Salvatore’s earlier reservations toward the younger man, could squeeze his way inside.

Upon entering through the gate, Karl immediately takes 2 cigars out of his back pocket and lights the first one. “Curiosity mostly… but also cuz I think there’s more to this whole “gift” thing than Miranda wants us to believe,” the bespeckled man says, blowing a lungful of smoke out his nose as he offers Salvatore the second cigar. “You still smoke, old man?”

“I-I… I r-really shouldn’t” Salvatore says, turning his back toward Karl’s outstretched hand, even as the wonderfully woody scent fills his nose and his mouth begins to water.

“Oooooh, but something tells me you want to” Karl teases, sauntering over to the older man so that he could wave the fresh cigar in Salvatore’s face, chuckling in amusement when the fish mutant’s gaze locked onto and followed the unlit stick like a dog would a slab of meat.

“B-but it… M-Mother has s-said… m-many times… th-that she d-doesn’t like… doesn’t like when we s-smoke… because… uh, b-because...” Salvatore trails off, trying to remain strong for Mother Miranda, even as his self-control slowly continues to crack.

“Come on, lighten up a little bit, old man. It’s just one cigar. You smoked a pack of these things a day, like they were the only things keeping you going, both throughout my whole adolescence and, if what Duke says is to be trusted which we both know it is, well after I left for my factory, too. When the hell did you start being such a stick in the mud? No wonder I stopped hanging out with you, you’re like a fuckin’ parrot that repeats everything than goddamn woman says, it’s like I can’t escape her no matter where I fuckin’ go” Karl groans in a slightly childish tone of voice as he trudges forward to sit on one of the docks overlooking the calm water below.

Salvatore slowly moves to join him as he says, “S-she’s right th-though… it r-really isn’t good… f-for you… I smoked e-everyday for m-many years... an-and now I’m p-paying for my i-ignorance… Mother o-only nags at you… b-because she c-cares… and s-she’s always r-right… in the e-end...”

“Oh, fuck what Miranda says, I’m tired of that woman. Always telling us what to do and then thinking that pushing a couple of failed experiments onto us as “gifts” will make up for the fact that she’s disappearing off the face of the planet without a single trace and not telling us when she’ll be back. As far as I’m concerned, when Miranda’s not here, she’s not the boss of me. And the same goes for you, too” Karl says, roughly punching Salvatore in the shoulder.

“I-I don’t… I don’t think th-that’s how this w-works, Karl” Salvatore counters. “Even w-with Mother l-leaving us… f-for a t-time... we still h-have to make s-sure that th-things c-continue on… continue on as p-planned… or e-else we’ll really b-be in trouble… w-when she g-gets back.”

“Maybe,” Karl says thoughtfully, before taking another drag of his cigar. “I don’t know… I just have a sinking feeling that there’s something weird going on behind the scenes and these “gifts”, that she’s giving us, are nothing more than distractions to keep us entertained while she goes and does… whatever the fuck it is she plans on doing while she’s gone.”

Salvatore pauses for a moment, briefly remembering back to when Mother first told him that she’d be leaving the village to go “visit someone”, who she believed could be very important to their mission of reviving Mother’s long lost baby, Eva. Although he hadn’t thought very much of it at the time, the mutant man also remembers Mother saying something about how well Nadine would do at “keeping him occupied” until she finally returned, and maybe even after that, too. But why would Mother Miranda want or need him to be “occupied” when she got back? Wouldn’t she want to share her findings with him so they could work toward creating a vessel to revive Eva in? Wouldn’t she want to see and speak to him again after being away for so long?

Or maybe… could… could Karl actually be onto something here? Salvatore felt terrible doubting Mother Miranda, but he’d be lying if he said that Karl didn’t have a point about Mother’s behavior seeming odd, now that he was in the proper headspace to go back and analyze the memory properly, at least.

“B-but… if Mother h-has gone o-out of her w-way… to make sure that w-we won’t be l-lonely... w-while she’s away… isn’t th-that a… a good th-thing… doesn’t that m-mean she c-cares a-bout us... enough to… e-enough to do something l-like this?” Salvatore asks nervously, watching the younger man intently as he contemplates his response.

“I guess so, at least when you word it like that, it does. But something tells me there’s more to this than she’s led us to believe. She’s got something planned, and she’s definitely after something, and once she gets her hands on it, who the hell knows what’ll happen… whatever it is though, I doubt it’ll be very good, for any of us.”

“D-don’t say th-things l-like that… I-I’m sure M-Mother has a-a reason… a reason w-why she’s leaving… an-and if she d-doesn’t tell us w-what it is… b-before she leaves… th-then Im sure… I’m sure sh-she’ll tell u-us when she g-gets back… she’ll l-let us in o-on her p-plan… wh-when she’s ready… an-and then… once e-everything is… said a-and done… we c-can revive… r-revive Eva… and b-be a real f-family… a-at long l-last… isn’t th-that what w-we a-all want, after a-all… a f-family?” Salvatore asks, hoping this was doing something to ease the younger man’s clearly agitated mind.

What on earth it was that was causing so much turmoil as it flew around inside Karl’s head, Salvatore had no idea. But something about the bespectacled man’s unusually contemplative and concerned mood, coupled with the fact that he’d only punched Salvatore once since his arrival, was beginning to leave an acidic taste in the deformed man’s mouth.

Karl really and truly thought something was wrong, and the younger man’s continued insistence upon this fact was beginning to make Salvatore very very anxious.

Perhaps it was the unusually good and excited mood that Salvatore was in due to the near arrival of his gift, or maybe it was that soft spot for Karl I mentioned earlier, but regardless of the reason, Salvatore felt the odd need to help alleviate the younger man’s bad mood, just like he used to do for him back when Karl was still barely taller than his shoulder.

Mother Miranda certainly wouldn’t be pleased if she found out that Salvatore had broken his mandatory sobriety despite her explicit orders to avoid smoking so his experiment results wouldn't be hindered. That being said however, Miranda always seemed to want her 4 children to get along and be close, like real siblings, so Salvatore supposed that he could allow himself a break from his smoking break so long as, if Miranda did manage to find out somehow, he could get himself out of trouble by spinning it as a rare moment of sibling bonding between the oldest and youngest siblings, rather than the reality of the situation.

“I… I’ll t-take that cigar… if you’re n-not gonna smoke it… th-that is” Salvatore says, a small chuckle escaping him when Karl cheers in delight, practically throwing both the lighter and the cigar into the deformed man’s hands.

Salvatore’s first breath of the cigar is nothing short of heavenly once he finally lights it and takes a drag, and its moments like these when the mutant man finds himself secretly grateful that Karl hasn’t listened to a goddamn word Mother Miranda has said in nearly 4 decades.

A long period of silence passes as both brothers merely sit beside one another and secretly enjoy each other’s company.

“Miranda let me pick my gift first, so I didn’t get to see where the others went. Who did you end up with?” Karl asks, finally breaking the silence.

“T-the… the sh-short one,” Salvatore replies, “with b-blue skin, black h-hair, a-and, uh… oh, an-and white d-dots… all o-over her… l-like freckles… fins t-too”

“Oh ya, I remember that one. Gorgeous little thing, she was” Karl says, nodding his head in appreciation as a devilish smile spreads across his unshaven lips. “With quite the… voluptuous figure too, if I remember correctly.”

“I… well… I-I don’t know i-if… I d-didn’t... shut up...” Salvatore mumbles under his breath, taking a long drag from his cigar as Karl throws his head back laughing like a hyena at his older brother’s sudden bashfulness.

“Ah, come on, Sal, don’t be such a downer all the fuckin’ time, I’m just teasing. I know you still think about shit like that, too, even if you’ve managed to convince Alcina and everybody else that you’re just an innocent little follower who hasn’t had an independent, or dirty thought of his own since the cadou took hold. You used to be a fuckin’ doctor for crying out loud, and you’re still annoyingly the person Miranda goes to first whenever she has a new experiment in mind, cuz you’re smart AND she can trust you. You might look like you fell off the truck that was taking you and your fishy friends to market, but I’ve known you too long for that bullshit act of yours to work on me.”

“Act?” Salvatore asks, genuinely confused by what Karl means.

“You know, that stupid fuckin’ “moronic freak” act you do whenever Miranda’s around. The one where you act like you don’t know what the fuck is going on or what something is so that she’ll take pity on how stupid and childish you’re acting and give you more attention. It’s pathetic to watch and I’m gettin’ sick of seeing you do it all the time. Knock it off, you’re better than that.”

“I’ll… um… b-be sure not to… to m-make it s-seem as… uh… I’ll k-keep that in m-mind” Salvatore finally says, casting his gaze down to his pants for a moment, unsure how to feel about how… friendly and kind Karl was being all of a sudden. Salvatore knew Karl secretly cared about him, the brat does far too many conveniently nice things for him throughout the year for him not to, but hearing the younger man voice his surprisingly high opinion of him was definitely shocking, though still quite touching, all the while.

“W-which gift… d-did you end u-up… getting, Karl? I d-didn’t get t-the chance to… to s-see the others… M-Mother only showed me Nadi-er… my g-gift” Salvatore asks, deciding, at the last second, against using his gift’s real name lest Karl be given even more artillery to tease and riddle him with.

“Eh, just some tall dark haired broad. I think Miranda said something about her being Indian, or something along those lines.”

“O-oh… d-did Mother say a-anything about… whether she’s actually f-from here… o-or did she immigrate… f-from India?” Salvatore asks, tilting his head curiously as this new information about Karl’s gift piques his interest.

Karl stares at Salvatore with a look of confusion for a moment, his mouth opening and closing silently like he wanted to say something, but couldn’t find the words for it. Until, “Aren’t Indians from America?”

The sound of Salvatore’s right palm making firm and painful contact with the back of Karl’s head echoes across the reservoir almost as loudly as the following cry of pain from the man himself.

“OW! WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT FOR?” Karl roars angrily, pushing himself to his feet while he rubs at the back of his head, hat lopsided and barely hanging on to his head and green glasses no longer perched upon his nose, likely sinking to the murky lake floor just below the docks they were sitting on.

“I d-didn’t spend… th-the better part o-of 15 years… p-pounding an education... i-into y-your th-thick head... for you t-to say… f-for you to b-be spouting dumb shit… l-like that” Salvatore growls in annoyance, eying the taller man with a look that even he wouldn’t dare argue against, at least not with Sal he wouldn’t.

It’s moments like these when Salvatore is very happy that Karl, for as strong and fearless as he is now as a fully grown adult, is still just a little bit afraid of him after all these years. Not because of anything bad or horrifically traumatic of course, especially considering how often Salvatore had gone out of his way to ensure Karl had the least traumatic upbringing he could possibly provide the young boy, given both their situations. As much as he hated to admit it, even Karl would agree that Salvatore had done a pretty decent job of not fucking him up anymore than he already was, which the younger man would secretly always be thankful for. However, even a person as naively patient and serving toward others as Salvatore had his breaking point, and all it took was one especially bad day, resulting in the one and only time Salvatore has ever left a mark upon the younger man’s skin, for Karl to realize that Salvatore was the last person in this godforsaken village he wanted to purposefully make an enemy out of.

Thankfully, their relationship never suffered negatively from that one-off event, but it did force the two to come to a mostly unspoken agreement that has remained present and active, if slightly ignored at certain times, from that point forward. Agreement or not however, Salvatore could never bring himself to harm Karl like that again, even if he wanted to, which was probably the main reason why Karl was still the most comfortable around him, even after all these years. It was a secret they shared between them, and them alone, and it would be one that he would cherish for the rest of his life, as Karl would secretly cherish the kindness and brotherly love Salvatore had treated him with for all these years. They were brothers, regardless of whether they got along or not, and nothing in the would world would be able to change that.

That being said however, Karl was about to be in for a very rude awakening if he thought he could just do and say whatever the hell he wanted around Salvatore without there being any consequences.

“‘A-aren’t Indians f-from A-America?’ G-good grief... I o-oughta throttle y-you for th-that one” Salvatore grumbles through another drag of his cigar, shaking his head in utter disbelief and disappointment. Karl was so intelligent, and yet he could be so stupid sometimes that it physically hurt Salvatore to think about.

“But there ARE Indians in America, aren’t there? I know I’m not wrong here” Karl defends aggressively, his anger quickly giving way to embarrassment when Salvatore raises his hand to pinch the bridge of his nose in frustration and annoyance.

“Th-they’re called N-Native Americans... f-first of all... they w-were only c-called I-Indians... b-because the g-guy... the moron who f-first sailed t-to the A-Americas... w-was actually... looking for I-India... the r-real India... b-but back th-then... you h-had to go all th-the way... a-around Africa... to g-get there... but he th-thought h-he could do... d-do it a d-different w-way... he thought h-he could f-find India... by s-sailing straight f-from S-Spain... and g-going around the whole w-world... until h-he came b-back around... an-and hit Asia” Salvatore explained slowly, hoping to maintain his delusion that Karl had, in fact, paid attention to at least some of the lessons he gave the boy throughout their time together, even if it wasn’t actually true.

“But he didn’t. He hit the Americas and started calling the locals Indians cuz the guy, what’s-his-face... Columbine... Columbus... whatever, was dumb enough to think he was in India and not a totally different landmass” Karl finishes, looking like he at least remembered hearing about his information before, which was good enough for Salvatore.

Despite the grimace still etched onto his face, Karl groans in annoyed defeat and slinks back down to sit next to Salvatore, still cradling the back of his head.

“Anyways, as i was saying before I was so rudely interrupted with a goddamn history lesson-”

“You w-want another s-smack?” Salvatore threatens, mildly amused when Karl pauses his dramatic retelling, before sliding just a few inches to the right, away from Salvatore’s preferred disciplining hand.

Coughing slightly, Karl continues. “Anyways… going back to my “finding the silver lining” idea, or whatever the fuck its called. This whole “gift” thing might actually work out kinda nice for me in the long run, especially since the one I got looked like she was strong and could handle herself in a rough and tumble environment. If she proves herself, I’m planning on turning her into my assistant” Karl explains casually. “As much as I hate working with other people, normally, I’ve got some projects that would really benefit from a second pair of hands, so I’m attempting to make a “silver lining” moment out of this bullshit “gift” thing Miranda’s tryin to do and just hope and pray that things work out in my favor. Though, to be fair, if things with this girl don’t go well, I could always use her body for a cool idea I’ve had cooked up for a while now. What about you? What are you planning on doing with your new little toy once it finally arrives?”

Salvatore merely shrugs his shoulders. “It w-would be nice… i-if we c-could be f-friends… somehow… but…”

“Ya… you’re not exactly working with the latest and greatest set up, huh? Even a mutant girl might need a little bit to get adjusted to a face like that” Karl says.

“That’s c-certainly one way o-of p-putting it” Salvatore replies dejectedly.

Karl flinches slightly, which surprises Salvatore, since the younger man has a habit of caring very little for how his words affect those around him. Why on earth was he being so considerate, all of a sudden?

“Look, uh… what I meant to say was that… ok, so maybe you’re not like, the best looking guy ever, but like…” Karl stammers and stutters, trying desperately to figure out what he wants to say but seemingly coming up short every time.

Salvatore narrows his eyes again, suspicion returning. “You’re h-hiding something f-from me… w-what are you a-after, Karl?” Salvatore asks seriously, fixing the younger man with a stern look that he knows Karl recognizes.

“Hey, don’t you give me that fuckin’ look. I am too fuckin’ old for you to be looking at me like that, what am I, 12?” Karl asks.

“You c-certainly act l-like it… most of th-the time” Salvatore grumbles under his breath.

Karl clearly heard him, but knew better than to argue with the water not even a foot below where the two were currently sitting, his sunglasses having already taken a nice little dive as punishment for his big mouth. Salvatore might have only agreed to speak with Karl because the latter had demanded it, but they were still very much in Salvatore’s territory, and it wasn’t even a question of who had the topographical advantage should an “argument” actually break out between them.

Karl is strong, nobody can deny that. But Salvatore has the home advantage, and they both know it.

After a moment of tense staring, Karl finally breaks first, sighing heavily before tossing his finished cigar cap into the water below them, a crime Salvatore briefly contemplates knocking the younger man in for, before deciding against it, knowing, with his luck, that it would only come back to bite him in the ass later.

“Alright look,” Karl finally says, a look of frustrated determination on his face, “I don’t know what Miranda really has planned past her whole “get a suitable vessel for Eva” obsession, or what she’s really after on this mission of hers… but something about this whole situation going on recently just doesn’t feel right to me, and I think we need to do something about it before something bad happens and we all somehow end up dead. Now, I'm not 100% sure why I’m talking about this with the head of Miranda’s fuckin’ fanclub, but considering what my other 2 options were it wasn’t like I had much of a damn choice. My only saving grace right now is the fact that you’ll at least occasionally listen to fuckin’ reason, given your gaping maw can be yanked from Miranda’s tit long enough to hear me out, that is. It’s certainly better than my chances with Lady Super-sized Bitch and Crazy Psycho Doll, over there.”

“Are you s-sure you’re n-not just being p-paranoid?” Salvatore asks slowly, not wanting to offend Karl by outright stating he didn’t believe the younger man’s hunch, but also trying to figure out if Karl actually has something to be concerned about, or if he’s just looking for an excuse to badmouth Miranda.

“No, no no no, don’t you do this to me too, Sal” Karl begs in frustration. “You can go about the rest of your life loving the absolute shit out of that crazy woman if you want to and I won’t say a goddamn thing about it, but I need you to promise me, and I mean promise me, that if you see or hear something weird regarding Miranda and this little “trip” she’s about to go on, you come tell me so that we can at least make sure our own asses are covered when shit hits the fan.”

“Well… I-I uh…”

“Come on, Sal. None of these psychotic assholes have ever had my back like you, and that’s exactly the reason why I’m telling you all this” Karl says honestly, catching Salvatore off guard with the oddly familiar wording.

“I know I can be a royal fucking pain in the ass most of the time and that I’m not always the… nicest to you… even though you did kinda do... a bit for me here and there when I was a little tyke... But none of that matters now, because even if Miranda isn’t trying to hide something from us, with the two of us banded together, we could do whatever the hell we wanted while she’s gone, and neither of the other shitheads would be able to tell us otherwise. What do you say, Sal? Come on, you and me, together, just like when I was a kid, remember?” Karl asked excitedly, his eyes shimmering in boyish glee as he spouts off all the things they’d be able to get away with when Miranda finally left, the torment they’d be able to unleash upon Alcina being a particular favorite of Karl’s, it would seem.

Salvatore remained silent for a moment, contemplating the deal he’d just been given.

It’s… not a terrible deal, at least compared to some of the previous deals Salvatore has been offered in the past. It wasn’t like him agreeing to “ally” himself with Karl was a direct declaration of war against Mother Miranda or anything like that, merely a mutual effort that would guarantee safety for both him and Karl should Mother’s plan not go exactly as she wanted, which scientific experiments were known to do. Not to mention that giving Alcina a good messing with did sound like quite a bit of fun.

Maybe… maybe Karl was right. Maybe Salvatore was being a bit too much of a stick in the mud. It was just Karl after all, who Salvatore had practically raised, starting from the boy’s arrival into the family at 6 years old and more or less up until his factory was completed just after his 22nd birthday. Karl could certainly be a handful for even the most powerful individuals, but even on his worst days, he always found some backwards, convoluted way to apologize for his behavior.

“W-well… I-I’m not s-sure… I d-don’t know how I f-feel about… about d-doing things th-that Mother… wouldn’t a-approve of… just b-because sh-she’s gone...”

“But...” Karl continued for him.

“B-but I suppose… k-keeping each other u-updated… when we f-find… or h-hear s-something weird is… wouldn’t be… wouldn’t be th-the worst idea… in th-the world… e-even if it just t-turns out that… we w-were just being p-paranoid.”

“Excellent! That’s just what I was hoping to hear” Karl says triumphantly, standing up.

“A-are you l-leaving, already?”

“Ya” Karl affirms, “I’ve got work to do at the factory, and based on the look of things here, you were busy with a project of your own it looks like.”

Salvatore nods, pocketing his freshly finished cigar cap for later, proper, disposal. “I c-can’t even remember… the l-last time I… p-properly cleaned this p-place… it l-looks so m-much nicer… even w-without being f-fully finished…”

“Good for you. My own property could probably do with a good cleaning of its own now that you mention it. If nothing else though, I’m sure your new little lady friend will appreciate that you picked up the place for her arrival.”

“Y-you think s-so?” Salvatore asks.

Karl shrugs his shoulders. “Who knows with chicks, they’re unpredictable, but I suppose it’s possible. Then again, maybe not considering who you ended up with. I don’t know the full story or anything like that, but based on what I heard from Miranda, that blue bitch you went with was the craziest one of them all. Practically tore her pod apart the first time Miranda tried to put her in it, and caused all sorts of other damage throughout her mutation phase too, not that I blame the poor girl. I’d tear that whole lab right out from under the surface and set it ablaze if I could. Going back down there after so many years… I was puking like you for the rest of the fuckin’ day when I finally got out of that hellhole. Stomach still feels a little nauseous if I’m being honest...”

“I-I’m sorry… to h-hear that” Salvatore says, though Karl is quick to brush him off.

“Eh, don’t worry about it. I’m a big boy and I can handle myself. But do we have a deal? Keep each other in the loop whenever we hear anything… strange or abnormal about Mother Miranda or her special little mission?”

Salvatore pauses for a moment, thinking one last time about whether this was a good idea, before finally shrugging his shoulders and nodding. “Y-yes, we h-have a deal… b-but just remember something, Karl… 40 years d-didnt do… nearly as m-much for your p-poker face as i-it did for your s-smart mouth. If I c-catch you lying to m-me-”

“Ya, ya, ya, you’ll chop up my body and toss my remains in the lake to feed the fishes, I’ve heard that one a million times before” Karl interrupts. “Don’t worry, Sal, if I was planning on lying to you at any point throughout this process, you’d have already caught me by now. Even I know better than to try pulling a fast one over the walking fuckin’ lie detector.”

“I’m h-holding you to th-that, Karl” Salvatore calls over his shoulder as the younger man stands and begins heading toward the gate to return to his factory, chuckling lightly when Karl returns his warning with a middle finger.

“Take it easy, old man. And let me know how that crazy fish bitch you ended up with turns out. If all else fails I’ll turn her into a nice stuffed pillow for you” the bespeckled man says, throwing his head back in laughter as though he’d told a funny joke, before adding, “And I’d better get my sunglasses back within the week, or else I’m draining the whole fucking reservoir so I can find them myself. Don’t think I won’t do it, old man.”

Salvatore merely returns the middle finger, a response that Karl seems to appreciate, if the wolfish howl of laughter the younger man let's out says anything, at least.

‘Cheeky brat. Always plotting something’ Salvatore thinks fondly to himself as he slips back into the water to continue cleaning the reservoir, quickly grabbing the green sunglasses that had sunk to the bottom and pocketing them to return to Karl later. He pauses for a moment when a thought crosses his mind.

Within the past 24 hours, both Mother Miranda and Karl had been… unusually kind and affectionate toward Salvatore, which pleased but also confused the twisted man.

Karl was easy enough to explain away, the younger man has been flip flopping between periods where he likes and spends time with Salvatore, and periods where he’d sooner set himself on fire than be in the same room as his older brother, since the day they met, so as far as Salvatore was concerned, Karl’s behavior was hardly breaking news, though perhaps a bit surprising given everything going on with Mother’s gifts. Mother Miranda, however, was a different story.

Usually more distant and hands-off in her parenting ways, Miranda had been uncharacteristically affectionate toward the disfigured man the night before, going as far as to openly praise Salvatore for all his hard work and even hold him without being asked to. It had been such a wonderful experience at the time and yet, the more Salvatore thought about it, the stranger and stranger the behavior seemed, especially now that Karl had confronted him.

Speaking of Karl… Mother seemed quite upset with him when she spoke of him the night before. Going as far as to badmouth him specifically, calling him a ‘conniving little snake’, despite the younger man usually being her favorite by a country mile. Had Karl done something to incur Mother’s wrath? Is that why Karl came all the way over here to make that deal with him? Is he trying to rally the 4 lords to rebel against Mother Miranda?

No... No, no no no, that couldn’t be true, there’s no way.

Even Karl, for all his incredible intellect and hunger for power, was too afraid of Mother Miranda to ever try anything as drastic as that. That being said however, even though Salvatore doubted that Karl would ever try to rebel against Mother Miranda, it did seem like the younger man was trying very hard to get Salvatore onto his side for some reason. In fact, both Karl AND Mother Miranda appeared to be trying to sway the eldest Lord in their favor, though for what reason, he still had no idea.

It was definitely something that made Salvatore slightly wary of the both of them, though.

There’s nothing in this world that Salvatore hates more than doubting his beloved Mother, but even he couldn’t write this oddity of a situation off as a mere one-off incident or sudden change of Miranda’s tune. Mother has been acting very strangely recently, doing things she wouldn’t normally do and acting overly affectionate as if to try and throw everyone off her tracks, and the longer Salvatore thought about it, the more he couldn’t help but wonder, as painful as it was to admit, if maybe Karl was actually onto something.

Logically, he knows that Karl is just being Karl, looking to stir up some trouble for his own, and supposedly Salvatore’s, amusement, and that Mother Miranda is likely just trying to enjoy the time she has left with her children before she leaves on her mission. However, something in the back of Salvatore’s mind can’t help but wonder if maybe there’s more going on than he’s been led to believe by either of them. And as if this situation couldn’t get any more confusing for the deformed man, now his overly anxious and analytical mind was beginning to understand what Karl meant when he said there was something strange going on, no matter how much the rest of him practically screamed to just listen to Miranda like he always has.

Shaking his head of his scrambled thoughts and turning his focus back to his work, Salvatore decides that the best thing he can do right now is keep an ear to the ground on both Mother Miranda AND Karl, just to be fair. He still isn't sure if he plans on being 100% honest with Karl regarding their deal, but he supposes that maintaining a good relationship with the younger man wouldn’t hurt in the event he turned out to be right and Mother’s plan backfired on all of them.

Besides, if Karl did turn out to be right, and Salvatore was ready for if things took a bad turn, he could still be there to rescue Mother Miranda and ensure she’s brought to safety along with them. He’ll have successfully fulfilled his family duties to both Karl and Mother Miranda, without ever having to actually choose which side he was definitively on. A perfect plan if the mutant man says so himself. Now the only thing left to do between now and whenever things started getting interesting was work on the reservoir and wait for his gift to finally arrive, his mood regarding this whole situation greatly improved thanks to Karl’s visit.

Hopefully, if things went well, he’d have some exciting news to tell the younger man the next time they met up.

Maybe he’d even have a new friend to introduce.

[illuminatedquill]

Na Bi x Do Hyeok: The Endgame

“Well, it seems to me that the best relationships - the ones that last - are frequently the ones that are rooted in friendship. You know, one day you look at the person and you see something more than you did the night before. Like a switch has been flicked somewhere. And the person who was just a friend is... suddenly the only person you can ever imagine yourself with.”

- Gillian Anderson

(This is going to be a shorter post as apology to the long one previously. Thank you to all who liked that one. It means a lot. I hope you like this one, too.)

Hello, again. Y’all mind if I talk about Nevertheless? Specifically, about Yoo Na Bi and Yang Do Hyeok? Okay, thanks. I appreciate it.

I love these two a lot. I could watch ten episodes of just these two (same with Soljiwan couple). I give a lot of shit to the writers for their portrayal of toxicity in relationships and how they seem to revel in it but, goddamn, they turn around and give us this amazing relationship. Na Bi and Do Hyeok are so pure and good together.

One relationship that gets paid dust in kdramas is friendship (actually a lot of our media tends to knock friendship, although that is changing). We are so used to seeing the main leads being romantic with each other but we disregard the whole friendship aspect of the relationship. I mean, you should want to be friends with the person you love, right?

Friendship is such an important ingredient in every day life. In a way, it’s better than romantic love which, as Jae Eon exemplifies, can degenerate into obsession. Friendship is all about sharing, usually without thought of reward. We share good times, bad times, fun times, everything with our friends. It is love in its purest, most unconditional form.

Na Bi and Do Hyeok growing closer together as friends has been one of the greatest highlights of this show and it’s something I’ll keep with me long after it’s finished. If you’re reading this, I know you agree. But people seem to view this as a weakness in their relationship and a roadblock to them being a couple in the future. (Because friends have never fallen in love before? Okay.)

This drama has always been about Na Bi and how she grows from this chapter in her life. Jae Eon, unfortunately, dominates it with his toxicity, but Do Hyeok, and his friendship, promises better things in the next one. We just won’t be able to see it (but that’s what FanFiction is for). Butterflies, as Na Bi’s aunt says, don’t just eat honey; sometimes they eat poop and other things for nutrients, too. Everything she’s experiencing now is to help her grow.

It’s this friendship aspect of Na Bi’s and Do Hyeok’s relationship that people keep hitting on, and I want to talk about how this friendship informs what I see to be in their future.

Do I want to see them as a couple? Absolutely. But Na Bi needs to do the work to fix herself first. And she doesn’t need a boyfriend for that.

But she does need a friend. And Do Hyeok delivers in that department perfectly. He is compassionate, supportive, and devoted to her happiness. He never asks for anything in return. Na Bi needs him. The road to a happier version of herself will be hard and full of obstacles but with Do Hyeok at her side, she’ll be able to navigate it without getting lost.

What I want from Na Bi and Do Hyeok in the finale is for Na Bi, and it has to be Na Bi who starts, to have a heart to heart conversation with Do Hyeok. Her feelings towards him have been growing in strength in the past few episodes and I’d really like to see her sit down with him and talk about their future.

I don’t necessarily want her to commit to dating him right off the bat, but seeing her open up and talk sincerely with him would be gratifying and help progress them towards an inevitable coupling. I want to know how she feels about him and how she really sees him. Do Hyeok, so far, is the only one who has laid all his feelings down on the table which has helped his and Na Bi’s friendship grow; Na Bi is more open and vulnerable with him than with anyone else. Yet she still hasn’t really broached her own complicated feelings regarding Do Hyeok.

(I’ve seen some comments that have said that Na Bi’s feelings for Do Hyeok don’t seem that strong and I would like to point out, again, the rain scene where she ripped out Jae Eon’s heart after she found out how he used her to hurt Do Hyeok. And that’s with Do Hyeok just as a friend. When they’re dating? Mess with Do Hyeok and Na Bi will be under your bed later that night with a knife.)

Receiving closure from Park Jae Eon and saying farewell will definitely help in clearing the way for her to examine her feelings for Do Hyeok in depth, so hopefully the writers don’t waste too much time with that (ha ha ha, yeah right). It’s time for her to return Do Hyeok’s sincerity with her own and be reassured that taking the risk to love courageously won’t end with heartbreak this time.

[normal-thoughts-official]

Ur take on a malec beauty and the beast au please

ugh you got me in a difficult position here because on the one hand, i do love the idea of a beauty and the beast malec au. i just think the idea of a socially isolated person who thinks themself/is perceived as monstruous and who has locked away their heart and doesn't believe they could ever be loved fits magnus like a glove. but on the other hand, i don't want to make magnus, a brown character, animalistic, for obvious reasons. and i can't really think of a way to make him monstruous that doesn't fall into animalization/beastification (both racist tropes) or ableist tropes

so i'm thinking... maybe the spell is just that people are repulsed by him/fear him automatically? like it just creates this horrible almost impossible to ignore repulsive/fear/"fight or flight activating" aura around him for absolutely no reason and makes ppl be repulsed and/or hate him. even if it doesn't change his appearance at all. it's not really a changing or shifting spell, more like a spell of hatred

which like.... i know doesn't sound like anything poc/queer people don't already go through but there is a main difference which is that it makes it impossible to find a community. like even other brown and queer people look at him and feel this... huge disgust and even fear and might even hide and so the isolation is absolutely total and it fucking hurts. and besides it is one thing (a very bad thing) to walk around and have to be on constant alert because you never know if someone is going to be violent, and have to deal with occasional comments and disgusted reactions... it's another to consistently have like, children screaming and people cowering 100% of the time without exception, you know? he's basically living the life ppl with social anxiety think they live and he has nowhere to turn to, no one who understands or who's more likely to actually want to talk to him because of his differences. there's no one to lean on. even the people who love him aren't immune to it, even if of course they are not turning their backs on him

so anyway here are my thoughts: this was totally done by camille lol beacuse the whole backstory about being mean to an elderly lady doesn't fit magnus anyway and also i just like sprinkling camille angst where i can. so after magnus finally got himself free of her and her stupid claws she hexxed him back into isolation. both as punishment (a kinda "if you don't want me, then you have no one" logic) and just to make him more vulnerable because again, abusers want you alone and isolated and away from a support network so you are more dependant on them and more likely to buy into their thwarped logic if they can immerse you in it. so she's just trying to manipulate him into getting back with her, because she wants him and most of all his power

and basically you know the drill, if he doesn't find anyone who will love him romantically until the rose withers yada yada he will die. and again she just wants to make the spell so it constantly drives home how alone he is and how he can't find anyone who will love him (except for her), and make it so he's more and more likely to come back to her as time goes by because then the spell will be broken

(sidenote: camille obviously doesn't actually love him, because anyone who does that to someone doesn't love them. but as the one who cast the spell, she can lift it whenever she wants. so all she has to do is kiss him and lift the spell and be like "see, magnus? who else would love you like this, but me? even after all these years?". and honestly if it had come to that magnus would know she was lying because there is no way this is love, none. but anyway it doesn't come to that, that's just what her plan is)

anyway it still doesn't work because magnus is done and he won't get back to her, and he particularly doesn't want to get back with her after, you know, all this trashfire. and he just sets his jaw and is like "fine" and accepts that he will live however long he still has with his friends and people he loves and away from her, basically

and like gosh sidenote but this would have been so painful for his friends. camille very deliberately made it romantic love because she knows magnus has so many fucking people who love him, but him and the immortal squad have found family dynamics, not romantic ones. so there is nothing they can do even though their love for magnus is just... so real and pure and they hate to see him like this, hate to know that right when he finally got rid of her she made sure he still couldn't go out in the world. especially since magnus has always been so damn sociable, loved to be surrounded by people and to meet them and care for them. but here he is, walking as hidden as he can and with his head down avoiding eye contact because he knows the horror is there and some children run away screaming when they see him

and i just picture this desperate little scene with raphael in particular where he's just like.... "i'll try to kiss you. we have to try" and magnus is all, "my boy, you don't even like kissing, and she was very adamant that it had to be romantic" and raphael is almost in tears like "but i do love you, goddamn it! i should be able to undo this spell" and it's so sweet that he's trying and willing to be in this really awkward position where he kisses (yikes) magnus (which is just weird especially since magnus is kind of a father figure to him) because he's just... so desperate to have him free of her, finally, once and for all, you know?

but obviously it doesn't work, not even with dot, who had a kinda fling with him in the past but doesn't really feel Romantic Love™ for him even though she does love him, it's just... not what the spell requires. and it's unfair as hell and there are lots of tears but just the fact that magnus falls asleep surrounded in a teary cuddle pile after some of the absolute worst kisses of his life because his friends/family love him enough to put themselves in such an uncomfortable position in the hopes of making him free, is enough to make him feel a little better. and the fact that they are still there for him and obviously still love him so fiercely even though looking at him now literally evokes fight or flight instincts in them is already more than anything camille could ever give him. if anything, she's proven how loved magnus is

and that helps him get through it that day and is something he tries to hold unto in the worst days, but still, it's hard and it just... sucks. it's tiring to go out in the street and always have people staring at you and to see the horror in their faces and be so isolated and never really know what might happen, if he will be attacked or harrassed or what exactly will happen. so he isolates himself more and more and soon the only people who ever see him or visit him are his friends. and fuck, do they hate seeing him like this

things settle in a weird kind of way. magnus is still living his life and working as a wizard and etc and in a way the spell even helps him have some more credibility because you know, isolated scary person is kinda what ppl expect from wizards. but he avoids having contact at all costs and mostly sends the potions they request and stuff their way, and the only ppl he sees are his friends unless he absolutely can't avoid going outside. and he's fucking miserable. and every once in a while camille will come back to be like "so, magnus, are you ready to stop with this little tantrum of yours and come back to me now? how is the rose doing, by the way?" because god forbid he catches a break

also it turns out that magnus' adoptive streak becomes even stronger because he is 1- extra lonely; and 2- empathizing more than ever with the outcasts. don't get me wrong, he always has, he's a fucking brown, bi trans man for fuck's sake. we all see ourselves in the stray dogs and lonely people one way or another. but now this is turned up to a thousand, so, you know

so he has one (1) extra kind of contact in his life which is basically with stray animals (particularly cats cuz u know, this is magnus) that he finds around in need of help. they can all leave if they want, but a lot of them stay, particularly the black cats, disabled animals, and others that have a particularly hostile environment outside. you know

(not me again with my very specific hcs about deaf pitbulls who fall in love with my faves but LOOK pitbulls are very sweet and caring animals who don't deserve the fame of monsters that they have and if the idea of one being best friend's with magnus and them having a loving and caring relationship doesn't appeal to you then idk what the fuck to tell you)

this of course doesn't help his image cuz this guy is just going there and collecting black cats and snakes and has a huge pitbull around with him at all times but it's not like it can get any worse so magnus doesn't care, and besides, he can't just leave them out to die in the cold and harrassment of middle ages white ppl who think black cats are the worst possible thing but rats carrying deadly diseases are fine (and look, i know rats are also animals that get a lot of shit and persecution, but like, seriously, clean the streets)

and every once in a while there will be a person in need too, like a homeless person in need of a place to stay or some sick person who has been abandoned or something of the sort, so magnus brings them in as well and cares for them as well as he can, but also tries to maintain minimal contact because he's been burned too many times, okay

so like, cue alec! i know in the original BATB belle ended up with the beast to save her father's life but fuck that. i lowkey consider making it "izzy ran away from home so alec comes after her and they both end up staying with magnus" but i think i like it better if it's just alec who decided to leave. like he's done with the abuse both towards him and his sister and he wants to be able to live his life even if he's gonna have to start over in some other village all alone. anywhere but here and all that

and of course alec used to be plenty rich and he has a lot of skills that help him pass by - he's a good archer and hunter, he's a good leader and organizer so he could do wonders for a failing business, he's smart and cunning - but he also has, like, 2 gold coins to his name. maybe some more from stuff he took from home and sold, but still

initially he is living at a tavern and i guess i'm making simon, raphael, and maia tavern owners again! i don't even care anymore, it suits them. rapha is the cook and the three of them run the business and simon also makes musical appearances during dinners every once in a while, and they are living the happy queer polyamorous life of their dreams. we have no choice but to stan

anyway alec is staying with them and he becomes friends with i think maia in particular since, you know, she is the one with the most contact with the customers since rapha is in the kitchen and simon is up the stage most of the time. plus they are both the same brand of bastard and they have an easy understanding between them that just works

and look! simon, raphael, and maia are 3 trans, non-christian/non-white (unnecessary addendum: the concept of whiteness didn't exist until around the 17th century, but whiteness as a concept came basically as a substitute for christianity [link to source], so i'm counting the fact that simon is jewish and raphael and maia are not culturally european as equivalent to non-whiteness in this context) people, so it's not like they would ever kick a gay man running from an abusive home out. but you know what they also are? magnus' friends. and after a while of talking to him maia thinks he is trustworthy enough for them to send magnus' way, because magnus needs as many friends as possible. plus, he wouldn't kick a person in need out, so unlike with them magnus can't really push this newcomer away so he'd have more company. plus, the possibility that he might fall in love with magnus and undo the stupid spell is there, i'm just saying! i'm not saying it WILL happen but why not give it a fucking shot?

raphael in particular is of course super protective of magnus and he swears to god that if this guy gives him half a bad look raphael will end him, which earns him some pats on the shoulder for his troubles and "rapha, we don't want magnus to be hurt either"s. maia says that she's been assessing him for quite a while now and she's pretty positive that he won't be terrible to magnus, but if she's wrong, she'll kill him personally too. and rapha trusts maia. how could he not? she's maia

so, they send alec magnus' way. "i'm sorry alec, but we are struggling to make ends meet *hides gigantic gold stash* and the tavern is packed *raphael upstairs stomps at maximum speed to make it seem like their 13 empty rooms upstairs actually have people* and we really need your room to give to this customer *simon in a wig* BUT we have a friend who we're sure will give you shelter if you ask, it's not very far away, and once we have a free room we will let you know". and alec is just like, okay, because he's been staying there for free or considerably less than the usual fee/in exchange for some stuff he hunts for quite a while now, and they are nice, so it's not like he can complain

and they don't tell him about the spell exactly because it is not their story to tell but they do let him know what to expect re: magnus' vibes and say it's a spell. and alec's like ok i guess. alec's very practical, he doesn't really care, and it's not like it's the guy's fault anyway. which is exactly why maia is sending alec there

so they send magnus a heads up ("magnus this guy is HOMELESS and we are SOOOOO packed can you please give him shelter for a little while thx xoxo"). alec arrives there a while later carrying like 3 prime rabbits he has hunted as a thank you gift because he hates being dependant on people but it's not like jobs abound in the middle ages, and he is actually a little embarrassed to go in and ask this guy he doesn't know for shelter but he IS kinda desperate. for now

anyway he is standing there with his 3 rabbits debating whether or not to knock on the door and magnus just opens it magically like "i know you're there, dear, just come in" so alec does and awkwardly presents him the rabbits and shit and is all "thanks for letting me stay, uh. i can help you with food and taking care of the house and stuff" even though, you know, magnus has magic and doesn't need it

(and magnus appreciates it deeply, because it is tiring to do it all magically on his own but most non-magical people don't even consider that)

and like... it is very awkward at first because magnus does NOT trust at all and he mostly just wants to keep away from anyone who can... look at him. but they ARE living together (oh my god they were roommates!! just kidding they each have their own room but you get it) so it's inevitable. but like magnus' insecurity makes him keep to himself for long times and makes things awkward, kinda like how the initial days with the beast and belle the beast was rude and kinda shitty except magnus is not shitty, just... private

and maybe the subject even comes up like "thanks for the meal alec. i'll go eat it in my room" "i mean, you could eat here if you want" "and ruin your appetite? no thank you" and alec is just like "*shrug* it won't ruin my appetite. unless you are my parents, the concept of failure, or some girl wanting me to marry her, i don't think there's a lot the spell can do to make me scared. besides, you literally have a kitten on top of your head right now and you refuse to remove it and are using a spell to keep her from jostling when you move" "her name is Fluffy, and she is sleeping!" "right, my bad" "wait did you say the concept of failure?" "yea"

it's not that the spell doesn't work on alec; it does, just like it works on his friends. but he is willing to go beyond that initial repulsive reaction that he knows is illogical anyway (and alec is the kind of guy who is just like "if my feelings aren't logical, i don't listen to them" which in this case is useful lmao). and the thing is that once you get to know magnus there is nothing about him that is scary, and the feeling just becomes completely ignorable, because humans are nothing if not adaptable. but most people don't want to go through the trouble to try, and magnus himself doesn't want to let himself be vulnerable enough to give them a chance because there IS a great chance that he will be met with some level of aggression, even if it's an unintentional microaggression

and eventually they grow closer and build trust. i think this happens particularly when camille steps in for one of her regularly schedule shoving-it-in-magnus'-face visits and alec is just like. "hey why don't you just use magic to keep her away?" and magnus realizes that he never even THOUGHT of that and like, jesus, how much has he been unconsciously torturing himself? so he does it, and he ends up telling alec about the story of the spell, which might be the first time he's told someone that didn't know him before the spell was cast

(alec: "so she's basically just killing you slowly?" magnus: "don't be silly, alexander. torturing me first is the most important part". and he sounds self deprecating and almost resigned and god alec feels murderous)

ohh but wait bonus: magnus says that she will only undo the spell if he gets back with her, he doesn't mention that it technically can be undone by romantic love or whatever bullshit's going on because he doesn't believe it can happen anyway, so, who cares

anyway! time goes by. fun fact: alec and magnus get along really fucking well. magnus is so so smart and knowledgeable and he shows alec many of his inventions that never got to see the light of day or that were stolen by someone else who wasn't cursed and took all the credit. he also fascinates alec with his magic, but mostly with his personality. there's something just endlessly endearing about this guy who is so fucking proud of his puns and so so nice and gentle to every creature he encounters, be it a kitten or a pitbull, who's letting alec stay with him for no reason other than that alec needs it

and alec is so goddamn appreciative of it because like he IS and we stan! and he's always trying to give back to magnus which is kind of a rarity, but most of all he's also extremely funny beneath the whole no-bullshit attitude, he's caring and fierce and resourceful and strong (so's magnus) and they click so well. they can also talk about their similar experiences with like, abuse and trauma without making it super heavy and they're just,,, so supportive of each other. so like yeah surprise surprise they fall in love

but they don't really say anything because (on magnus' part) that's just fucking ridiculous, he's a monster; and (on alec's part) he will put magnus is a way too uncomfortable position if magnus doesn't like him that way and they will just... be living together. and magnus will feel like he has to compensate to alec somehow and alec doesn't want that. it's just complicated when one of them is dependant on the other, and besides, alec has had very little to offer magnus so far

(no, he has no idea how much his company means to magnus and has brighted his depressed ass life. he is stupid)

sometimes magnus' friends visit and they're always just so happy for him, to see how he's hanging out more and let someone into his life after so long. it earns him a lot of forehead kisses and "i'm so happy to see you like this". and over time he starts to invite them over more as well as just open up back to the people in his life :')

angsty but also kind of fluffy sidenote: i picture that every time they kiss his forehead or cheek or whatever they linger for a little while and then open their eyes slowly and sigh like "i had been hoping that it would work this time. magnus, you know i love you, right?" and magnus is all like "i know just from you saying that, darling. it's just not how the spell works" and aaa

and like to be extra clear im not saying that alec fixes him or romantic love heals him or whatever, just that having let someone in, someone who didn't know him before the spell, and have them completely accept him and realize how much he had been missing out re: touch and human contact helps him realize how much he misses his friends and how pushing them away is stupid when they've never been anything if not supportive of him. they don't care that he's cursed. and obviously magnus was already on the way to that if he even managed to let alec in anyway

anyway! dramatic healing scene. LOOK. usually i'd be all for "they don't change back actually because people don't have to look beautiful to be lovable". like the original BATB disappointed me sooo badly because i had just been hoping that he'd stay the same way and still be loved. but in this case it's not that magnus doesn't look beautiful! it's that the spell has made him be hated by people for no reason other than existing. and breaking the spell is not changing magnus himself, it's changing that hatred. so, yeah. i'm not saying it's a deep metaphor or anything, just, you know daudhasdja it's different from the usual monster thing

and i'm torn here because on the one hand i LOVE the drama of the original BATB where everyone decides to gather to kill the beast and belle saves him and shit, but idk if it fits with the vibe ive been building here. no actually @ me shut the fuck up. you know how i mentioned that they kick camille out with magic finally? i actually had no intentions of following through with this in any way but like of COURSE she would be absolutely pissed out of her mind and want to get back in some way, we already know she's vindictive. so i'm gonna use that. this is what neil gailman meant when he said that writing is just making a rough draft and then writing it again but like it's on purpose this time

anyway! so after they yeet her camille is obviously furious and fuming and it might have finally dawned on her that magnus will NOT fucking cave and she is losing power over him, not gaining it. so she decides to play a last card and get him to almost die so he kind of HAS to take her bid, you know? so she makes up some shit about how magnus has kidnapped the lightwood heir and she's only now hearing about it, and no one else is safe and yada yada. and she has "proof" because alec IS indeed there and again the spell just helps everyone easily agree with her that magnus is That Kind Of Guy or whatever, and middle ages ppl weren't exactly waiting for a good enough reason to grab their pitchforks. and they don't even KNOW about the spell, really. all they know is that he's very powerful, secluded, and they all fear and almost hate him just from one look

so camille makes up some bullshit story about how he made a deal with the devil to become extra powerful, and that the source of his powers is the rose, so they have to get rid of the rose to kill him. (sidenote: i never understood why the hell the rose was never used as a weakness against the beast. like was he keeping it super guarded and safe just for the fucking shits?) so they devise an attack so someone can sneak up and get the rose, and camille makes up some bullshit story about how they have to destroy the rose a specific way so it takes longer and she has time to manipulate magnus before he dies. man, it's easy to be a villain when your target is secluded

anyway! big attack at magnus' house. magnus' friends don't hear about it until it's too late because camille knows exactly who they are and warned them that they were on "the witch's" side. alec is maybe away hunting when it happens? camille obviously has magic in this AU so she can check for that information. maybe she even says that she will be the one responsible for finding the lightwood heir so there is minimal risk of him revealing that she lied lmao

oh no, violence! they battle and yada yada. catarina is probably the first one to realize what is happening because i figure she, madzie, and dot are the ones who live closest to magnus'. they send fire messages and get ragnor, simon, maia, raphael, and meliorn to help. oh yeah, and alec i genuinely forgot trust me to forget about romance in a romance-focused au. but alec is the only one of them without any magical resources and he's far away and on foot, so he's gonna be the last to get there, which camille had been counting on

but alec or no alec, they can keep the attackers at bay because they're all powerful and smart and shit and a lot of them have magic as opposed to the mundanes who don't, but of course that's mostly because they are holding off on attacking and the invasion is mostly a distraction because their PLAN is to use the rose. and camille tells them all to leave once the petal puckering starts so she can "protect them from any lashouts" (have her big villain speech). and it's not like any of magnus' friends is gonna leave to go after them when magnus is dying, bUT they also won't attack camille because she's his only hope. and they won't be able to get to stop the rose plucking in time because that's in another room and while she made it slower than something that the person can use to kill him in a second it's also not slow enough for them to get there on time (maybe there's a spell against magic use near where magnus keeps the rose? just for extra safety, so the ones with magic can't portal there or whatever)

anyway. big villain speech. magnus screams in pain every time a new petal is plucked. his friends are either running to the rose thing desperately or trying to get camille to stop this madness, she's going to kill him for fuck's sake. i don't know which chooses to do what so you can figure that out i guess. and for that extra drama, right when the last petal was going to be plucked, wee woo alec lightwood arrives! and he went straight for the rose because magnus had told him about it and he figured that there was a good chance the attackers might go for it. so he shoots the person's leg or something and gets them away from the rose and yay, day saved! mostly. because now there is only one petal left to fall before magnus dies, so at the very least, his lifespan has been shortened considerably. also, he is still in pain

i'm torn about what happens to camille then. on the one hand, i love killing camille! bonding activities for the whole family. on the other, she kinda is the only one who can save him now. they all know magnus won't want to get back with her, but hey, it's not like camille wants a relationship! she wants magnus to be her asset. a relationship was just the best way to get him to do that she had initially. but magnus doesn't want to cave and be dependant of her, so, you know. but maybe they can try to convince her to stop this fucking madness, god knows how

so okay yeah no camille-killing yet because they don't want to jeopardize magnus' safety, so she just leaves convinced that either way, she wins, and this might be the best possible scenario actually because magnus will have lots of times to think it over and be real desperate and come to her and strike a deal. so, yay her! she just needs to lie to the mundanes that the mission was successful or whatever, and it's not like that's gonna be hard because magnus won't want to be seen there again, so

we are all running to check up on magnus now. he's kinda like, on the ground coughing blood, but he'll live for as long as the last rose doesn't fall. still, they all settle on trying to help him, getting him in bed, tending to his wounds, etc. and thinking about what the fuck they are all going to do now. so you have raphael and maia making magnus soup, simon running his mouth as he throws around ideas on how they can fix this, ragnor, cat, dot, and madzie (who is here now that the danger is over ofc) checking and rechecking magnus' vitals for the billionth time and trying to figure out how much time they have, meliorn using their fae powers to stop his pain. and madzie is all snuggled in bed with magnus holding his hand and asking if he wants her to tell him a bedtime story, and magnus just... feels cared for and loved

alec meanwhile i think would tell what ACTUALLY happened to the person who was doing the rose thing - i actually have thought about it and think it might make sense for it to be luke. just because i love him and it kinda fits the whole "initially sided with shadowhunters, lately became a downworlder" thing. and like luke genuinely believed he was saving a person/people so alec brings him in too and magnus is all "catarina, dear, can you help heal his leg? i would, but i don't think i have enough magic right now" because he is the sweetest man immediately wanting to help the guy who almost killed him. and luke is in awe

(and alec brings him on purpose, too, because he knows that anyone who actually talks to magnus for a little while will see what an amazing person he is. and he hopes that luke, as a mundane, can tell the others that and turn them against camille)

and after that, of course, alec sits down by magnus' side and Does Not Leave. he's just there holding his hand and talking to him and magnus' friends, who are all also kind of. sitting there, trying to snuggle up in a gigantic pile of like 10 ppl to cuddle close to magnus and make sure he feels loved and cared for and that they know he is real. madzie gets special privileges in that sense because she's smaller and also a kid, so she gets to be kinda snuggled up with him. so alec has to be content with holding magnus' hand lmao (which he is, he's just happy that he's alive and okay. and he has a whole plan to get camille to undo the spell, mostly involving getting the mundanes against her and telling her that she is only safe for as long as magnus lives, because once he dies, she will have a bunch of ppl who will hunt her down to the faces of the earth to make her pay for what she did to him. the only reason they didn't do that yet is because she can still save magnus' live, so is she really going to let him die knowing that she will be next?)

so alec takes his hand and tells magnus that they will fix this, he promises, and give a little kiss on magnus' hand. just a little peck, no deep intentions, but magnus gasps a little because he feels something, and his eyes water a little bit because he's so touch starved and tired and hurt and alec kissed his hand and he can feel this kind of ache inside him, somehow a good ache, but he just can't explain it. and so alec notices his watery eyes and he very tenderly wipes his tears away and tells him that they're all on his side, will always be, and kisses him on the forehead. and this kiss? this kiss is full of adoration and love and purpose, and magnus gasps and the wounds that hadn't been healed suddenly mend together, and the petals that had fallen go back to the rose before it disappears in a beautiful flash of light, and suddenly magnus' magic is back full force and he just looks at himself for a second, and everyone erupts into joy because holy shit, the spell is broken

and alec is so confused because again! he didn't kNOW about the whole true love's kiss thing or he would have asked magnus to let him kiss him as soon as he learnt about his feelings, because even if magnus didn't feel the same way, alec could undo the spell. and he's like "why the hell didn't you tell me?? we could have fixed this months ago" and magnus is like "i didn't think it would make a difference. wait, you're in love with me? have been for months?" and alec is like "first of all, yes. second of all, i have nothing else to say, i just said 'first of all' because i was so indignant"

and magnus laughs and jumps on him and kisses him on the mouth this time and they are both smiling and laughing into it and so so happy. and raphael is kind of just peppering kisses on maia's face too, like, "you were right, he undid the spell, thank you" and maia was never sure that this would happen but she will take the credit actually please and thank you

and they all live happily ever after and kill camille together the end i guess. god this post was so long i'm so sorry