#but i felt like i had to do this to complete the trifecta

[hellslayersomething]

I feel like I should write out some proper thoughts about my opinions on Veilguard, or at least an outline for the much longer essay that is currently calcifying in my heart. It's a mixed bag of a reaction, and I'm not going to compliment sandwiching any of it--this is all just stream of consciousness, so I'm probably going to snag on the negative and spiral down that pretty quickly. Spoilers, obviously:

I liked the battle system. For the first time in a DA game, it actually felt satisfying to play and had its own identity. I do wish the Pokemon element aspect was a little better balanced among the companions, but overall it was great.

That said, considering the length of the game, they needed way more enemy diversity, especially with the bosses. Eventually I was just fighting dragons, and every dragon had essentially the same moveset, one of those moves being "the dragon trips over her own dick and face-plants on top of Rook", which sure doesn't make the fights feel epic. Even very unique characters, like the Gloom Howler, were just reskinned basic demons when it came time to fight them.

The decision to tie companion approval to companion levels was a mistake. A massive and extremely obvious mistake. No wonder there are no disagreements or tension among the group--the game can't let you lose affinity with your team members, because then it would have to account for you leveling them down. The gameplay design here strangled the narrative design in its crib.

Speaking of narrative design: while I appreciate that the modular approach to companion arcs was experimental, it was extremely weird of them to take that approach in the only DA game where all companions are required. The story doesn't have to be written to account for the fact that you might not recruit some of them or they might die early--so why didn't they write one story about Rook and their seven friends instead of one story about Rook and also there are seven smaller, unrelated stories of extremely varying quality shoved in next to it?

The hyperfixation on the companion quests paired with their complete compartmentalization from each other means that each companion basically has nothing going on outside of their own quest and very few opportunities to engage with other characters' quests.

I was so starved for conflict in this game that I went from Solas-neutral to Solas-positive because he was the only character who the game allowed to be a bitch to me, and I respect him for that.

I do like all the horrid little sons the game gives me. I think I would appreciate them more if there was anything bad or tense happening in the story on a personal level that required some comic relief, but I am a sucker for a funky little guy none the less, and Manfred, Assan, and Spite are the perfect trifecta of funky little guys, as far as I'm concerned.

"We're only going to do character cameos if it's important to the plot." *does what they did with Isabela* Okay, devs.

"We aren't importing player choices but we won't override your decisions either." *several codex entries overriding player decisions later* Okay, devs.

I like the companions, generally. I see their potential. Fanfic will do right by them. Harding, in my mind, is the weakest of the bunch, just truly having no personality to speak of and talking like she was written by a Boomer who thinks that Millennials are still teenagers. (Everyone responsible for her uttering the phrase "Awkward..." like she's a character in 2011 quirky girl sitcom should be tried at the fucking Hague, istg.) And while I like Bellara, it was extremely frustrating to have a character that's just "Merrill, again, but with the edges sanded off". Taash and Emmerich are also glaringly the last additions in the writing process, each belonging to one of the two most underbaked factions and neither of them being tied to any of the game's few "big choices". There's promise in this cast, but I don't think any of them came close to realizing their potential.

Davrin and Emmerich's companion quests felt appropriately scoped to the size of the questlines, had good emotionality, good antagonists, and expanded on the lore of Thedas in ways we hadn't seen yet.

Lucanis's companion quest had potential, but it was too unfocused with three antagonists, too much attention to the boring Venatori shit, and not enough examination on Illario's motives or Lucanis's relationships with either Spite or Illario.

Harding's companion quest was fine, I guess (the people are starving for dwarf lore), but Harding could have been swapped out with literally any other dwarven character who wasn't Sandal and nothing would have been different. (Also weird that the whole quest was basically about Sandal while simultaneously fully removing Sandal from the narrative.)

Bellara and Neve's companion quests were just nothing. Just a whole lot of nothing. And Neve's also suffered from what I like to call "machete editing", where it is glaring obviously where things were cut, changed, moved around, and added at the last minute.

I say, from the bottom of my non-binary heart: Taash's companion quest is total ass. Real nice of Mae to come out of hiding and risk being found and executed by the Venatori to give Taash a Queer Theory 101 class, though, I fucking guess.

Is Lucanis's romance bugged? Apparently I'm not the only one who had that thought while I was playing it, so now I'm wondering. Like, there's no way they made it Like That on purpose, right?

Why and how are the Venatori still a force in Thedas, never mind a force with numbers so great (in spite of lacking a central leader) that they were able to simultaneously occupy the two largest cities in Thedas?

They literally didn't even try with the Antaam. The Venatori are at least theoretically still working to try to restore Tevinter to its former imperial might. The Antaam are just invading countries for literally no reason except ill-defined power grabs. Given the racial coding of Qunari, this writing choice sure is...something. (And that something is racist.)

That said, the revelation that the Butcher did a military tour in Europe and fell in love with the culture and just wants to drink wine and visit art museums now is fucking hilarious.

What the absolute FUCK did they do the Crows. I like the Crow characters from Tevinter Nights/the comics, and Zevran is my favorite character in the whole damn franchise, but they completely whitewashed both TN's mafia take on them and their original portrayal in DA:O. But it also doesn't really retcon anything, making it instead seem like the human trafficking and torture and sexual abuse that Zevran suffered at the Crows' hands A) only happened to him individually, and B) are fine, actually??? Even the very few times that characters express reservations about working with Lucanis because he's an assassin, if you play as a Crow, those concerns get immediately backpedaled, so the Crows end up being so ironed out that the game doesn't even let characters say of the Crows, "Murder is bad," lest it hurt a Crow Rook's feelings. That is how conflict-averse the writing is.

So I guess everyone in southern Thedas is...dead now? Several characters survived long enough to get a mention from the Inquisitor, but by the end, it sounds like Orlais, Ferelden, and most of the Free Marches are pretty much donezo. When Epler said the events in southern Thedas didn't matter, I didn't expect that to mean they were going to nuke the damn place. Even having generally enjoyed VG (in spite of all my criticisms here) that, uh...doesn't leave me enthused about the future of the franchise, ngl.

The layoffs of several writers (and other Bioware employees) before the game's release was obviously heinous. But after that secret ending, I'm now of the mind that of the writers that remain, at least a few of them need to be demoted. Like literally what the fuck was that. That was the dumbest plot point to ever appear in a Dragon Age game, and that is a high bar to clear. If you're not going to acknowledge our past choices, then keep Loghain's name out of your fucking mouths.

[rppromptarchive]

Sentence starters - The Pizza Brothers skits by Prozd. Edit as necessary! Or feel free to substitute pizza out for literally anything else.

King Dragon starters, Chairem Anime starters

"Brother...I know now."

"A good pie isn't just about ingredients or technique...it's about the love you put into it."

🎵 "Pepperoni pizza pie..." 🎵

"One of these days, we're gonna open our own pizza place."

"We're gonna make a pie so good, it'll reach the stars."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"What? I'm serious! C'mon!"

"Hey, cut it out, bro! That really hurt!"

"So it's a show about...pizza?"

"IT'S NOT JUST A SHOW ABOUT PIZZA!"

"I'm just saying...if we put...pizza on the menu..."

"We don't do pizza, [name]. I don't do pizza. Not anymore."

"I know this is hard for you..."

"You don't know. You can say you know, you can say you understand. But you don't. You need to let this go."

"Your brother wouldn't want this."

"DON'T tell me what my brother would have wanted. We'll never know what he would've wanted now."

"I applied to be your sous chef because I tasted one of your pies."

"I can't watch you do this to yourself."

"Then go."

🎵 "WHEN THE MOON HITS YOUR EYE LIKE A BIG PIZZA PIE, THAT'S AMORE—" 🎵

[doctorbitchcrxft]

Reflections | Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Warnings: alcoholism, toxic relationship dynamics, mentions/descriptions of smut (MDNI 18+ ONLY), angstangstangst, the crippling reality of being broke and in your twenties, an ambiguous ending! Up to your imagination what happens next :)

Word Count: 5026

A/N: For a lovely nonnie!! This fic hits close to home LMFAO as does the song the fic is inspired by. Not to call you out nonnie but tell me you’ve been in a situationship that ended horribly without telling me you’ve been in a situationship that ended horribly… lol. Anyway, i hope y’all enjoy this absolute angst cesspool of pre-season one Dean!! 

Songs of the fic ! (did anyone else’s exes listen to the trifecta of male manipulator music aka car seat headrest, cigs after sec, and the neighbourhood? bonus points if chase atlantic is thrown in there, too)

Reflections by the Neighbourhood

Casual by Chappell Roan

Working for the Knife by Mitski

It’s Only Sex by Car Seat Headrest

Cry by Cigarettes After Sex

Queue up your favorite music streaming service if you’d like, and have a wonderful read!

Meeting Dean Winchester was among the more wonderful things that happened to you. After graduating from college, your life had been complete hell. Between non-stop job interviews, working shifts at a crappy restaurant job you’d had since sophomore year to be able to pay your rent, and a crumbling relationship with your family, you were drowning. Needing a night off, you decided to go out with a few of your friends. 

It was that night that you met Dean. As soon as you walked into the bar, he caught your eye. He was busy chatting with a pretty blonde with long, toned legs, but you hardly noted her. He was all muscle, tall, freckled, and had probably been sculpted by the gods. 

Men didn’t usually hold your attention. You were too busy and had too many previous relationships with frat boys and abusive idiots to worry about or focus on another one. Dean, however, was different. 

Through the night, you tried to just enjoy your time with your friends, but every piece of you was hoping that the beautiful stranger would come over and talk to you. And finally, finally, your silent prayer came true. 

His confidence was intimidating. Your friends all blushed and giggled when he approached, and your best friend pulled your other two girls away to another table to let you and Dean talk. 

“Your friend seems disappointed,” he said evenly. 

“In what?” you asked, a smile pulling at your lips. 

“That I’m talking to you and not her,” the man replied. 

Oh, god. You knew his type. You knew he’d be horrible for you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. “You’re very sure of yourself…” you trailed off, waiting for him to tell you his name. 

“Dean,” he told you. 

“Dean.” The name felt good rolling off your tongue. “Nice to meet you, Dean.”

“Trust me, pleasure’s all mine,” he replied. 

You rolled your eyes playfully. “You can drop the cheesy lines.”

Dean furrowed his eyebrows. 

“C’mon, you know exactly what I’m talking about,” you smirked, taking a sip of your beer.

“Most girls like ‘em,” he said, confidence unwavering. 

“Do you think I’m like most girls?” you asked, eyes challenging and lustful. 

“No,” he smirked. 

***

That night was officially marked in the calendar as the night you had the best sex of your life. Dean was incredibly giving in bed, and he wouldn’t let himself finish until you did. He knew when to be gentle and when to be rough with you, and you appreciated how attentive to your reactions he was. 

After that, Dean came over to your apartment every night for four days. And yet, you still knew very little about him. 

“Where ‘re you from, Dee?” you asked, sitting on the couch across from him with a beer in your hand. 

“Lawrence. In Kansas,” he replied shortly. Dean normally wasn’t as curt with you, and you knew you needed to press further into that.

“We’re a long way from Kansas, Toto,” you joked. “What’s got you out here?” 

“Eh, y’know. My brother’s off at Stanford, my dad’s a dick when he’s not around, and I just needed to get away for a bit,” Dean explained, shrugging. 

“Brother?” you asked. 

A smile spread across his face. “Yeah, uh, Sam’s his name. He’s in undergrad for law. His freshman year.”

“Oh, damn. He must be really smart, then,” you prompted. 

Dean nodded, still grinning. “Yeah, he is.”

“What about you?” you asked.

“What about me?” he replied, taking a sip of his beer. 

“College?” 

He shook his head. “Nah. Dropped out as soon as it was legal to.”

You snickered. 

“What about you? What are you doin’ out here?” Dean asked, sinking further into your couch. Even the way he sat emanated confidence. 

You sighed. 

“Oh, sorry. Didn’t mean to upset you—”

You shook your head. “No, no! It’s okay. It’s just— It’s complicated.” Dean allowed you to collect your thoughts for a moment. “Went to school, got myself a degree, and I graduated last year. And now, I’m barely keeping myself afloat. Applied to tons of places, got interviews at some, and all of ‘em fell through.”

“Oh,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry.”

You shrugged, taking a deep breath. “It’s alright. I’m sure every new grad goes through this shit.”

“What about your family?” Dean asked you. “You close with them?”

You scoffed. “All of them can suck my dick.”

Dean chuckled, clearly caught off-guard. “Jesus. That bad?”

“Absolutely.” You stretched and put your empty beer bottle down on the coffee table. “Life’s not all bad, though.”

“Oh?” Dean prompted. 

“I met you, didn’t I?” you smiled lopsidedly. 

The man chuckled but said nothing. 

Immediately, you felt embarrassed. “Sorry, I— I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable if I did. I know we’re just hooking up, and—”

Dean shook his head. “No, no. It’s okay. Just… I wanna be upfront with you. I’m just rolling through. I’m never gonna be in one place for long.”

Your heart sank. “Oh.”

“It’s nothing against you, trust me. You’re—” Dean cut himself off, sighing. He sat up fully, put his beer down, and turned to face you. “Trust me. It’s not you.” He put his hand over yours, making you look up at him. 

‘Damn his gorgeous face,’ you thought. You would never be able to stay angry with him for too long. You surged forward and pressed his lips to yours, pushing him down on the couch. 

***

If you couldn’t have anything else with Dean, you were going to have sex with him as much as humanly possible. Slowly but surely, he was giving you indications that he was forming feelings for you, too. 

Dean started staying the night around a week into the two of you hooking up. You were pleasantly surprised when he’d hold you while you slept, too. The sex became more passionate as opposed to rough and hard, even though you thoroughly enjoyed both. He asked you questions about your upbringing and your job, and was giving you every signal that he was interested in you for more than just sex. 

And then, he disappeared. You called him several times, but you never got an answer. To say you were crushed was an understatement. 

Even though you’d only known Dean for three weeks, you were falling hard for him. He had an effect on you that no one else did. Dean was kind, compassionate, funny, smart, and although immature at times, he had all the makings of a wonderful man and partner. And just like that, he left. No word, no note— nothing. Just the night before he was telling you how glad he was that he met you. Maybe that should have been a sign that something was wrong, but you supposed hindsight was 20/20. 

At work that day, you were a complete mess of smudged eyeliner, knotted hair pulled back in a claw clip, and puffy eyes from crying. 

“You good, (Y/N/N)?” one of your coworkers asked when she found you on your smoke break. 

The cigarette trembled between your fingers, and tears poured down your cheeks. Your only response was a frantic head nod. 

She gave you a deadpan look. “What’s wrong?” she asked. 

Holding the cigarette away from your face, you scrubbed your hand over your eyes. “Just this fucking guy.”

She grimaced, sucking in air through her teeth. “Shit. That’ll do it.”

“Yeah,” you sniffed. “On top of everything else that’s fucking falling apart in my life, I thought—” you cut yourself off, sighing. “Whatever. He’s a dick.” You took in a deep breath, trying to steel your nerves, and took a puff of your cigarette. You let out all the air and smoke from your lungs and turned to face your friend. “I gotta get back. I’m sure table twenty-five needs another fucking bucket of Michelob.” Having smoked almost the entire cigarette, you dropped it on the ground and stomped out the remaining embers.

Your coworker laughed as you opened the back door to the kitchen for her. “Let me know if you need anything,” she told you. 

Nodding, you smiled in thanks for her kindness.

***

Truthfully, you were drowning. Bills just kept piling up, two more job applications had fallen through, and the restaurant had been slowing down on the weekdays steadily since summer ended. Tips were shitty, and your situation had gotten so bad, you’d need to start working a second job and taking the bus to work. If you couldn’t find a second job or a job your degree suited soon, you were screwed.

After yet another fight with your parents over how much of a screw-up you were in comparison to your brother and sister, you were done. You needed something to numb the world out. None of your friends were able to go out, seeing as it was a weeknight, and they all had “real” jobs. 

And so, you sat on your couch and drank alone. You didn’t want to run up your power bill any more than it would already be this month, so you sat in silence with candles lit as you drank. Your logical mind knew this was a horrible idea— combining emotional exhaustion, fire hazards, and alcohol— but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

***

Your next late-night escapade with drinking came when you discovered you could numb out the feeling of being hungry with alcohol. The fridge and pantry were virtually empty, and you hadn’t had enough time or spare change to go to the grocery store after barely scraping by on rent and your bills the week prior. 

Drinking also helped you to sleep through breakfast, so the only time you really needed to eat was lunch before going to work. You’d stopped responding to your friends’ texts, and your routine didn’t consist of anything aside from working, drinking, and applying to jobs. 

The weeks droned by, and despite the chaos in your life, your thoughts were still of Dean. Why did he have so much power over you? You didn’t even really know him, and here you were, a complete fucking mess because he left without a word. You knew you couldn’t have been in love with him; maybe infatuation was a better way to describe your feelings for him. 

Finally, your friend, Melanie, came over to drag you out of your misery. She did your hair and makeup, forced you to eat something, and brought you out on a Saturday night with your friend group. Her kindness was very much appreciated, and you thanked her profusely for it. 

Your night out with your friends relit a bit of a fire in you. What kept you on even more of a high note was the interview you had a few days later at a bar. It had gone incredibly well, and the manager told you to expect a call very soon. Hope filled your chest at the thought of being able to have more than just a few cents left in your pocket after the monthly billing period. 

***

You’d done it. You got the job! Your friends took you out once again as a celebration, and you felt like you were finally getting back to your old self. However, that was when your friends noticed something was wrong. You’d never been the friend to get blackout drunk; you were always holding your friends’ hair back while they threw up in the bathroom. And yet, you were as sloppily drunk as ever. 

The next thing to catch their attention was you stumbling over to them with a seemingly arrogant prick’s arm around you. 

“Guys,” you swallowed, “guys! This is…” you trailed off, not exactly sure what his name was. “Sorry, handsome, what’s your name?”

That was when another of your friends, Syriah, pulled you aside and away from the man. “(Y/N), what is wrong with you?” she asked. 

Your eyes were immediately dewey. “What? What’d I do wrong?”

“Babe, you’re all over the place. What’s happening to you?” she asked compassionately, steadying you with her hands on your shoulders. 

Tears slipped down your cheeks. “I don’t know,” you said earnestly, collapsing onto her shoulder when she pulled you into a tight hug. “I don’t like how this feels, Riah.”

She petted your hair and just held you against her. “Look, I’ll get you a cab. We just need to get you home safe, okay?”

You nodded into her shoulder, still hiccuping. 

Once you got back to your apartment, you flopped down across the couch. Against your better judgment, you called Dean. Of course, he didn’t answer, so you left a voicemail. “Hey! Hi, Dee.” Your voice sounded funny because your cheek was pressed against your couch, and you laughed at yourself. “Sorry for calling, I, um—” you swallowed harshly, “I just miss you. A lot. And I don’t know why. ‘Cause I kinda hate you for leaving me, y’know? Like, what the— what the fuck is wrong with you? I’m a catch, okay.” You paused, hiccuping. “And another thing, it’s rude to leave without saying anything. I thought we were better friends than just fuck buddies. Why wouldn’t you— why wouldn’t you say something? Anything?” Sniffles and tears escaped you. “You suck, okay? But also, I miss your dick. Bring it back, okay? But fuck you.” And then, you hung up. 

***

Thankfully, you woke up just in time the next day to get to your new job for training. You looked like a complete trainwreck, but you did your best to smooth out your hair and conceal the bags under your eyes on the bus ride there. 

You went about working absentmindedly and did your best to smile and joke around with your trainer. After an exhausting day with little time to recount the events of the night before, you went back to your apartment to catch up on sleep. However, your nighttime routine was interrupted by frantic knocks on your door. 

“Alright, alright I’m—” You cut yourself off, mouth going slack when you found Dean standing in front of your apartment. 

“Dean?” you breathed out. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” he smirked awkwardly. 

You suddenly snapped yourself out of your surprise and became incredibly angry. “You have a lot of fucking nerve showing up here, do you know that? What the fuck is wrong with you?” 

“I know, I know, I’m sorry. Can we— Can we just talk, please?”

“Why should I even give you the time of day?!” you snarked incredulously. 

“ ‘Cause you told me you miss me. And my dick,” he tried to charm you. 

You scoffed. “What?! No, I didn’t.”

He clicked his tongue. “Yeah, you did. In your voicemail last night.”

Your heart dropped to your stomach as you remembered flashes of leaving that horrifically embarrassing voicemail. “Oh, fuck.” You dropped your face toward the floor, pinching your temples and thinking. “You’ve got five minutes,” you finally told Dean, letting him into your apartment. 

“Look,” Dean began while you closed the door behind him, “I didn’t wanna leave.”

You scoffed again. 

“I know. But I had to,” he explained. 

“Why?” you asked. “If you had to leave, fine, but why couldn’t you at least call me back?”

“Because this isn’t good! For either of us,” he responded, voice rising slightly. 

“Why?!” you pressed. “And what gives you the right to make that decision for me?!”

“Because I can’t give you what you want!” Dean argued. “I can’t stay for longer than a few weeks at a time. I can’t. And I can’t tell you why. And I’m making that decision because I know you won’t make that decision for yourself.” 

“You don’t know me, Dean! We hooked up, for like, two fucking weeks!” you laughed incredulously. “I am perfectly capable of making decisions for myself, thank you!”

“I do know you. God, we are so much alike, and that’s just another reason why we don’t fucking work,” he responded. Then, Dean’s voice quieted considerably. “And, sweetheart, it’s not that I don’t want you. ‘Cause I do.”

“But we can’t see each other. ‘Cause you’ll just leave again,” you nodded, hugging yourself protectively. 

Dean nodded, his hands in his pockets. “I’m sorry I left like I did.”

“I’m sorry I called you,” you told him. 

He shook his head, eyes still fixed to the floor. “Don’t be.” Tears began to cloud your vision, and you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. “What are you still doing here, Dean?”

He didn’t respond for a moment. When he finally spoke, your breath caught in your throat. “I don’t wanna leave you.”

The next thing you knew, his lips were on yours. Through the rest of the night, the two of you apologized and made up and apologized again with deep kisses, your bodies connecting, and words murmured through shuddering breaths. 

***

To your surprise, Dean was still in your bed the next morning with his arms wrapped around you. As much as you were angry at him for a little over two months, the night you shared and words you exchanged had you forgiving him easily. 

He hummed, alerting you that he was awake, before promptly pulling you closer to him and burying his face in your neck. You giggled as Dean’s breath tickled your neck, and he peppered kisses against your skin.

“Mornin’,” his deep voice rumbled against you. 

“Mm, morning,” you replied, a smile stretching across your face. You bit your lip, and you tugged at Dean’s hair while he sucked a dark mark onto your collar bone. “I better be able to cover that up with my work uniform, or I swear to god, asshole—”

“It’ll be fine,” Dean replied, kissing your collarbone. “You got work today?”

“Yeah,” you sighed. “New job.”

“Oh, wow! Good for you,” he told you, picking his face up from your neck. 

“Eh, just another gig to make ends meet. Bar this time, though.”

“And the other one you work at’s a—”

“Restaurant—”

“—restaurant, right.” 

You smiled at the fact that he remembered. “I’m working, like, fifty hours a week, now. But I gotta keep my lights on, y’know?”

“Jesus, that’s a lot,” Dean grimaced.

“What about you? You never told me what you do for work,” you told him. 

“I don’t,” he replied quickly.

“Oh, god. Just what every girl wants to hear,” you joked. 

Dean chuckled. “My dad’s settin’ me up to take over the family business since Sammy’s off to be a lawyer, or whatever.”

“Family business?” you prompted, hoping he’d explain a little bit more. 

“Yeah,” he responded. You could tell he was dodging your question, but you wouldn’t make him talk if he didn’t want to. “For now, I’m just road-trippin’. Makin’ the most of my youth.”

“Well, I don’t know that hangin’ out with a girl like me is ‘making the most of your youth’,” you joked. 

“What?” he replied. “You’re awesome, what are you talking about?”

You shrugged, getting out of your bed. Dean’s eyes followed you as you moved around your room trying to get yourself ready for the work day ahead. “I mean, I ain’t got much. Two bucks to my name, a useless ass college degree, fifty-thousand dollars in debt, and two siblings with a long list of accolades that make me look like literal sewer trash in comparison.”

Dean nodded. “In case you haven’t noticed, sweetheart, I’m pretty much in the same boat.”

You turned to him while you brushed your hair, struck by his words. “Yeah,” you nodded. “I guess you are.” A smile began to tug at your lips. “Makes me feel a little better knowing I’m not the only disappointment to their bloodline out there.”

Dean laughed. “Amen to that.” He then noticed the bottle of beer you’d pulled from the fridge across the small studio apartment from his position on the bed. “Whoa. Little early for that, isn’t it?”

You shrugged, “It’s five o’clock somewhere, I guess,” and took a large swig. 

***

That day at work had been okay, and you were exhausted when you got back to your apartment. Dean was coming over, but you told him ahead of time that there would be no sex happening since you needed to get up early the next day. He’d given a petulant yet funny response but seemed eager to get over to you. 

And that was how your routine continued for a few days.  He would come over after you got off work, you’d have sex, rinse, and repeat. Then, after a particularly rough day, Dean found you indulging in the binge drinking habit you’d adopted. 

He burst through the door to your apartment concerned only to find you watching the television with a beer in your hand. “Holy shit, (Y/N), why the fuck didn’t you answer?” Dean then seemed to notice the several empty bottles on your coffee table. 

“I just didn’t wanna talk tonight, Dean, take the fucking hint,” you grumbled before finishing off the bottle in your hands. 

“Okay, you’re cut off,” he told you, trying to help you up from the couch. 

You jerked your arm away from him. “Don’t fucking touch me.”

Dean seemed angry, but his expression melted into something else. “How long has this been goin’ on?”

You scoffed. “Why do you care?” The words came out slurred. “You’re not my boyfriend or anything.”

“Dammit, (Y/N), that shouldn’t matter,” Dean insisted. “You know this isn’t good for you, right?”

A laugh escaped you. “You said the same thing about you, and you’re still here, aren’t you?”

That caught Dean off-guard, and he was silent, for once. 

“Just go away, Dean,” you said quietly. 

And he did. 

***

The next day, you were horrified by your actions. You called Dean once; no answer. The second time you called, there was still no answer, but you left a voicemail. “Dean? Dean, I’m so sorry. I— I remember what I said to you last night. God, that was fucking horrible of me. Please come back. I’m so sorry. I’ll, uh, I’ll talk to you later, please?” You hung up, running a hand through your hair. 

You did the only thing you could think to do in the moment and pulled out another beer. Your tolerance had certainly increased since you started binge drinking, and a bottle in the morning had become the equivalent to a cup of coffee. 

Against your better judgment, you called out of work. You needed the money from both shifts you were scheduled for today, but you couldn’t bring yourself to go in. 

Finally, Dean called back. 

“Dean!” you squeaked as soon as you answered the phone. “God, I’m so sorry—”

“I know you are,” he told you. The silence between you was thick; neither of you completely sure what to say. “How long you been actin’ like Lebowski?”

That actually made you laugh despite the perhaps tone-deaf nature of the joke. “Meh, I’ve always liked to drink.” You considered your next words carefully. “It, uh, it started after you left.”

Silence encapsulated the two of you again. 

“I’m so sorry,” was all Dean could say to you. 

“No, no no!” you said. “It’s not your fault. I’m just a fucking mess, ‘s all.”

“Yeah, but if I would’ve picked up the fucking phone—”

“Dean,” you asserted. “It’s not your fault.”

He sighed heavily. “I’ll be over later, okay?”

“Okay.”

You took the day to try and get yourself together a bit. By the time Dean arrived, the apartment was sparkling, the empty beer bottles were picked up, and your hair and face had been washed. 

Dean smirked lopsidedly when he noticed the work you’d been doing. “Good for you, sweetheart.”

***

That night, it was taking both you and Dean much longer than usual to fall asleep. 

“What’s on your mind?” you asked him quietly. 

“I’m not a good person, (Y/N),” he said, voice barely above a whisper. 

“What?” you asked, putting your hand on the side of his face. However, he wouldn’t turn it up to look at you. “How could you say that?”

“I shouldn’t have left you,” he said. 

“Dean, we already talked about this—”

“No,” he cut you off. “I meant last night.”

“Oh,” you replied, stomach flipping.

“I shouldn’t have left you like that,” Dean reiterated. “I just— I got so angry. ‘Cause you’re right. I’m not good for you. And it’s selfish of me to keep you on the hook like this.”

You felt your heart cracking in your chest. “Dean, I have no idea what we are or what we’ve been doing, but…”

“I know,” he said. “I care about you a lot, too.”

“But we’re not good for each other,” you admitted quietly. “I can’t— I can’t be what you deserve.” You swallowed harshly, tears brimming your eyes. “I’ve got too much shit going on. I can’t—”

Dean cut you off again. “I know,” he said, seeming like he was crying, too. “And I’m gonna have to keep leaving. And I don’t wanna leave. I don’t— I don’t know how to be alone.” Dean’s admission broke your heart, and you grabbed his hand. “I can’t give you a relationship. There’s just— There’s no room in my life for that.”

Your lip was trembling, but you tried your best to force your next words out. “It’s okay,” you said, even though it definitely didn’t feel okay. 

“I don’t wanna just keep having sex while you’re in the state you’re in,” Dean continued. “That’s not fair to you.”

You nodded. “Thank you.”

He snorted, caught off-guard. “What?”

“Thank you. ‘Cause I wouldn’t have been able to tell you to go,” you said. “You were right.”

“I know you, (Y/N). I see too much of myself in you,” he admitted. “And I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too.” 

A long moment passed between the two of you, the only noise coming from the window unit in your apartment.

“I’ll be gone when you wake up,” Dean told you, holding you against him. 

As much as your heart was breaking, you stayed resting against Dean’s chest, the rising and falling of it soothing you to sleep. 

When the sunlight streamed through the curtains and hit your eyes, you realized Dean followed through with his promise.

***

Four years went by. The first one had dragged as you healed yourself from your addiction and the loss of Dean. Admittedly, you’d tried several times to get in contact with him, but the number had been disconnected. The next year, you began to feel happy again. You’d gotten a steady job, had tons of alcohol-free fun with your friends, and generally had a more positive outlook on life. 

That third year, though, your life would change forever. The world of monsters, spirits, and demons was unveiled to you when your sister was found dead. The police arrested her husband since your mother had told them the couple had been having problems in the months leading up to her death, but you knew your brother-in-law wouldn’t do that. Everyone insisted you were just in denial, but your gut told you there was something else going on. 

The way she died raised red flags for you, too. It almost looked like she’d been mauled by an animal, and some of her organs were missing. Her husband was a relatively stable person; no way was he capable of something like that. And if he was, where were her organs? Why would he have left her on the living room floor in a pool of her own blood? Why did he call the cops himself? Nothing was adding up in your mind. 

As any person desperate for answers would, you turned to a psychic. She introduced you to the idea that your sister had died being attacked by a werewolf. At first, you laughed, insisting she was crazy. When all the evidence was presented to you, though, it was the only explanation that made sense. 

From that moment forward, you trained and researched relentlessly to try your hand at hunting. You knew that going it alone would be dangerous, but there wasn’t exactly anyone else in your life you could talk to about what you knew. 

The day after you met with the medium, you abandoned your apartment, cell phone, laptop, and car, and hit the road. 

A year into your new life of motel rooms and gas station dinners between ghost hunts, your job brought you to Wisconsin where a college athlete drowned in a lake outside her home. You’d already interviewed the girl’s father and brother as well as the local police chief that morning. Around one o’clock, you were starving and headed out of your room to get some lunch. 

When you rounded the corner of the building to head to your car parked in the front lot, you slammed into a wall of solid muscle. The man grunted, as did you. 

“Oh my god, I’m so—” you cut yourself off when you realized who you were looking at. 

“(Y/N)?” he breathed out. 

“Hi, Dean.”

Forever taglist is open! :)

[bluberryfields]

"I want a proper apology."

The dramatic “apology dance”

In the entirety of Season 2, I think the “apology dance” scene is pretty close to my favorite.

The way Crowley walks in like he’s entering a stage in a packed theater.

The way Azi clearly sees him coming and fusses himself up to look extra focused on his work and not at all excited about Crowley’s return.

Crowley, noticing that Azi has yet to look at him, ramps up the drama by:

Whipping off his glasses (taking off his armor)

Response from Azi? Clears his throat and focuses harder on his work.

Time for Level 2 Drama, it seems.

Stalking over to the table (no sauntering here)

Tossing the glasses down (looks casual but absolutely isn’t)

Ringing that little bell (like a ceremonial gong signaling “this is fucking happening”)

Walking back into the rotunda where he has maximum visibility (also maximum vulnerability)

Azi now has no choice but to react, which he does by slowly looking up and over at Crowley, who looks like the human-shaped embodiment of dread.

Finally announcing “I’m back” like the bitchy customer who just yesterday had declared they were never shopping here again

I mean, wow. Amazing. Glorious.

Not to be outcunted, Azi just casually turns back to his work and practically hums, “Yes. I can see that.”

Damn, Aziraphale, did you take lessons in passive aggression from my mother?

Now Crowley groans in a way that I felt to my core and asks, “Do you want a big, ‘I think I said the wrong thing,’ sort of an apology, or can we take that as said?”

He averts his eyes until the last second because this probably feels more demeaning than begging Azi not to do his magic act at Warlock’s birthday part.

Still turned away, Azi replies in a tone that is a mix of hurt and guilt that makes me think this has been coming for awhile. "I'd like the apology actually." I bet you would, Angel.

Back to Crowley, he pauses to assess his options, takes a deep breath, and says the magic words: “You were right.” Also looks like he almost says something else but either doesn’t know what to say or doesn’t want to say it.

Oh wow, so convincing. Bravo.

Finally, Azi puts down his glasses and his work and turns to address Crowley. He is not happy.

“Not good enough. I want a proper apology.” Also, side note, but Michael Sheen’s voice here is just…yum.

Before Azi can finish, Crowley is so quick to reject this idea. “No.” with a shake of the head.

You're not winning this battle, Crowley, and you know it.

“With the little dance.” Azi’s voice perks up and his eyes brighten at the hope this will happen. Seize that opportunity!

Again, Crowley barely let’s the word “dance” come out before he tries to shut it down. “I don’t do the dance.” Nope, no sir, not this demon.

Oh no, now Azi’s anger joins the hurt and guilt for a vicious trifecta. “I did the ‘I was wrong’ dance in 1650, 1793, 1941…” each date being spat out with increasing amounts of venom.

Oh Crowley, you brought this on yourself, girl.

This non-apology combined with his “I'm sorry. I apologize. Whatever I said, I didn’t mean it. Work with me, I’m apologizing here. Yes? Good. Get in the car.” and I can see why Azi reacts to this the way he does.

Crowley knows he’s beaten and concedes with a “Fine!” that feels the very opposite of the word.

Okay so before the “proper apology” can begin, Azi gets up from his chair, straightens his waistcoat, and stands with his hands grasped in front of him like a proper gentleman. A properly petty gentleman.

Then the main attraction! Crowley, looking completely stone-faced, does “the little dance.”

It’s wonderful. He looks so silly and childish and graceful and mature. And god, that deep knee bend at the end? Amazing.

Also amazing is Crowley’s face when he says "Kay?” while bobbing his head and eyebrows back like a sassy rooster? *chef’s kiss*

For Azi’s part, god it is just a delicious mix of polite poker face and barely concealed thirst. I see your eyes scanning Crowley, drinking in that thin, dark Duke. That little dance will live in his head forever.

And that’s the signal to go back to normal! Crowley regains control and Azi falls back into the supporting role.

Long-term relationships are hard, yo.

[disturbedbeautywrites]

Surprise - JJ Maybank Imagine

Warnings: Accidental pregnancy, cursing, Luke being a dick, mention of vomiting. That's it, I think

"JJ, why in the hell is there a pregnancy test on my bathroom sink?" The words had left Luke's lips less than a minute ago and all the oxygen felt like it was sucked out of the Maybank household. "Did you knock up some random girl?"

You hadn't known Luke was home when you went into the bathroom to take the pregnancy test. JJ had told you he didn't think his dad would be home today because he was supposed to be at work and the two of you wouldn't be very long; twenty minutes tops. JJ needed to do some miniscule repairing to the motorcycle and you were going to lay down because you weren't feeling good.

Nausea, cramping, bloating. The trifecta of symptoms had been hitting you the last three days and you felt incredibly sick. You had talked to Kie and Sarah about it, them jokingly saying you must be pregnant. You had all three laughed it off, but it sat in the back of your mind.

You and JJ had sex quite a lot and you were as safe as you could be, but the thought haunted you. You had decided to just ease your mind and grab a test to see, your intuition telling you it would be negative. You had to sneak it into your pocket after you sneakily paid for it, knowing you had to take it as soon as possible.

Therefore, you took it when you got to his house as he was outside. You sat the three minutes, waiting until it showed up as positive and you felt yourself vomiting into the toilet. This couldn't be happening. This couldn't. There was no way.

You shakily got up as you heard walking in the house, assuming it was your boyfriend, and you meant to throw the test away. However, you were now realizing you didn't actually follow through with that.

At Luke's words, JJ's eyes went wide and he got up out of the bed from where he had been cuddling you. He was in complete shock, his eyes darting from you to the hallway where his dad was standing. He saw the test in his hands and took it, his eyes landing on the result as he tried to figure out why you hadn't told him.

But, as he stood there and thought for a second, everything started to fall into place. He slowly walked back into his room, his eyes full of tears. He wasn't sure if it was from shock or fear or both, but his lip was trembling and he was slightly shaky. "Y-you're pregnant?" You could barely meet his eyes as you nodded, shaky breath coming out before you met his gaze. "Y-yeah, J. I am.." You stood up and ran a hand through your hair as you heard Luke chuckle, watching the two of you from the door frame.

"How can she even be sure it's yours? She might be messing around with the whole island, son. You can't take them at their word." Anger flashed through JJ's eyes as he saw how the words affected you, your legs carrying you out the front door and towards the road. JJ pushed Luke against the wall, pointing a solid finger at his face. "I'll deal with you later. But, if you ever talk about her like that again I will personally kill you." The words came out through gritted teeth as he ran after you, staying a few paces behind as he heard you break out into sobs.

It absolutely broke his heart as he walked up behind you, his arms wrapping around your waist. "Hey, listen to me." His voice was soft and comforting as he held you close, knowing how bad his dad's words had affected you. He had been dating you for a year and this was the first time he had ever seen you cry like this. "He's an idiot, you know that." He pressed a soft kiss to the skin that was exposed between your shoulder and your neck, his nose pressing against that area.

"I-I'm scared. We're not ready." The sobs racked your body as JJ carefully spun you around to face him, his eyes just as scared as yours. But, for now he had to be strong for you. Sure, he had to be a father. But, you had a living being growing in your stomach. He figured he would give you this time to be shocked and he would be strong for you. "We'll figure it out, if you wanna keep it.." His voice was soft as he pulled you flush against his chest, his hand rubbing up and down your spinal cord.

"I-I do... I think.. I mean.. I don't really know.." Your normally warm and bright eyes were absolutely full of terror and JJ absolutely hated seeing it. It broke him and he hated that he was partially to blame for this. "You don't have to decide right now, princess. Let's just go relax and try to figure out what we're going to do."

"Y-you're not gonna leave me..?" Your words came out in a soft and sheer panic as JJ realized that was what you were the most worried about. "No, baby. I'm here for you and our nugget, no matter what happens. I'm not going anywhere."

[channieskies]

𝕴: 𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖋𝖔𝖗𝖙𝖚𝖓𝖆𝖙𝖊

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader, Jeong(Jung) Jaehyun x Reader (Fem/AFAB/Curvy/Plus sized)

Genre: Smut (eventual), Angst, Supernatural Romance, Urban Fantasy

AU: Supernatural AU, Vampire Au, Werewolf AU, Witch AU

Word count: 3408 [Reading time: 14 Minutes ]

Networks: @neverendingdreams-net & @mirohs-aurora-society

Synopsis: Discouraged after a breakup and eviction. You return home to New Orleans just to find out the life you have been living has been a lie. Maybe all those scary stories your grandmother told you as a child were indeed true.

CHAPTER INDEX

You slumped in your seat, confidence blown to smithereens after hearing all the wonderful things Chris had done over the last year. What have you achieved besides homelessness, manlessness, and joblessness? The ‘I got nothing going on in my life trifecta.’ “I- uh…” You paused, trying to think of some way to embellish your shortcomings into something that sounded somewhat interesting. But it seemed your mind was packed up in one of the boxes in your backseat. “Honestly?” 

A.N: Please reblog and leave a comment to let me know how you feel. I'd love a little feedback. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it. Special thanks to @palindrome969 and @therhythmafterthesummer for reading over this for me. I could never thank you enough. Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Disclaimer: This story does not reflect the real lives or personalities of Stray Kids or NCT. I do not know them personally. This is purely a work of fiction.

Warnings: MINORS DNI! This post contains nsfw material. Please do not interact with it if you are under the age of 18. Do not translate or repost here or on other sites. This chapter contains use of explicit language.

If anyone asked you how life was going, you in turn would have to reply, “Fuck my life! This is complete and utter bullshit.” The large eviction notice sitting on your apartment door in bright red letters, set your face aflame for many reasons. One; Embarrassment. Two; Disbelief. Three; Now you were fucking homeless. The only evidence of your two years of living here was scattered amongst trash in the hallway. A few of your nosier neighbors stood outside their doors to watch the dismantling of your life (and quite possibly your mental health) unfold in the sweltering heat of the swampy Louisiana summer. “Fuck, where the hell do I go..” You asked yourself under your breath. Being homeless was not on this year's bingo card.

Sweat trickled down your neck, a bead slowly making its way down the center of your back. Your nerves were frazzled. You pat your pocket for a cigarette, just to be reminded that you didn’t have any, it was just an old habit you couldn’t shake. You heaved a heavy sigh and picked up what was left of your life -a few boxes of clothes and the picture of you and your mother and did the walk of shame down the long open corridor. Aside from the other two boxes you needed to get, this would be one of the last times you’d get to walk this oh so familiar hall. But maybe it would be a good thing that you didn’t live here anymore. So many of the memories here were shared between you and your ex here. so. Maybe you could escape the constant reminders of what used to be.

Some of the neighbors that peeked out the doors gave you sympathetic smiles but one woman hid her child's face from you so that they wouldn’t know what failure looked like, at least that's what you felt like to you. The lady you regarded as your apartment grandma, just shook her head as she tsked at you and that hurt almost as much as being put out of the place you called your home. The walk to your old beat up car felt like the longest mile. This must be what it feels like to be given the death penalty. Doom. Dred. 

This was an actual existential crisis. Where did you go from here? What do you do? What other choices do you have but to travel back to the place you thought you’d long left behind? That was your dilemma now. The box weighed heavy in your arms, making it feel as if you were trudging through sludge on the way to your car; or that could have just been your shoes actually melting against the blacktop. Who knows?

You could certainly feel the heat from the asphalt through the hole in your five dollar, bargain bin, walmart sandals as you put the lone box on the roof of your hatchback. Sighing, you traced your fingers over the dented roof of your rust colored 1982 ford fiesta. Life has been kicking your ass these last few months. First, you went through the biggest breakup of your life. Two years of wasted time, spent with a man who did nothing but lie, cheat, gaslight, and isolate you from the people you loved the most. He was a dick and you were better off without him, all but financially. You depended on his half of the rent, because the cost of living, even in this piss poor, podunk town with a population just over five-thousand, was astronomically high. Even living here in a motel turned into an apartment, if you could even call it that, was out of your budget by almost six hundred dollars. You fucking shared a kitchen with all the other apartments, for some fucking reason there was no elevator, and yet rent couldn’t be reasonable? 

Second, you'd lost your job. According to your boss, two flat tires wasn't an excuse not to get to work on time. You barely made it through the door before he promptly fired you and sent you on your way. You scooped ice cream. It wasn’t like you were doing life saving surgery or nurturing the young minds of the future. There was no need to fire the best employee they had, just because you couldn’t get there on time. You had a spotless attendance record other than that. For fucks sake! You’d shown up sick (masked up), and worked through it. And when your grandfather died, you showed up to work and took the almost three hour drive home to be with your mother after the fact. But missing two hours of work for your tires to be changed? That was the breaking point? You hated this god-forsaken town and its dumb as fuck residents. The sun felt like it had beef with you today too, much like your landlord, ex, and former boss, it was beating down on you relentlessly. “Fuck, dude, do I owe you money too?” You cast your gaze towards the sky, asking it a question like it had the balls to answer it.

“No. Well- at least I don’t think you do.” Your body tensed at the voice that spoke a few feet away from where you stood. You knew it, all too well in fact. It belonged to one of the people that you loved the most, but pushed away for your scumbag of an ex. You hadn’t seen him around these parts in a while, even though he had been frequenting the town long before you moved there. It was like he felt you were in distress deep down and decided to show up. Or maybe you were just hoping that was the case. You didn’t dare turn around, feeling the sorrow overtake you, even if you could hear the smile in his warm voice. 

“But you do owe me an explanation. If that counts.” 

Your shoulders dropped, you knew he was right. You put your best smile on and turned around to greet him. You could fake happiness for a few minutes. You’d been doing it for months now, what were a few more moments? Your eyes nearly bugged out your head, it has been a few months, but did people change that drastically? Have you changed that drastically?

“Chr- what? Loo-Look at you.” You couldn’t contain the shock you felt seeing his appearance. He had always been muscular, but never this buff. He was always on the lean side, always athletic, now it looked like he could lift your car with you and your boxes in it. He wasn't any taller, but he's filled out tremendously since the last time you saw him at your grandfather's funeral almost a year ago. “Ho-how?” 

There was no reason to ask if he'd been working out, it was pretty obvious half his free time was spent in the gym somewhere and the other in the tattoo parlor. He’d gone from someone who only had thoughts of getting a tattoo, to someone whose arms were completely covered in them. You stood there awkwardly gawking at the man, unsure of if it was appropriate to hug your old friend or not. Or if this was even your old friend or not, his face was the same, but everything else seemed like he body swapped with someone with a bit more edge to them. He was far from the goody-two-shoes, curly-haired, dimpled, student athlete you’d met at freshman orientation.

He laughed, tossing the two boxes you left upstairs next to the other  on your roof before enveloping you in a hug that warmed you from the outside in. It was too hot to be this close, sharing body heat, but somehow you didn't mind since it was him. 

“I've missed you.” He squeezed you so tight you felt like you might pop. You had forgotten how much comfort you'd get from hugging your best friend. He was the epitome of a warm home with the fireplace burning. He always smelled of ginger and sea water, like a day on the beach with fruity spritzers somewhere in the sunny land of Australia that he hailed from. One thing you never forgot about Chris was how he had the kindest eyes that contrasted perfectly with his large nose and equally pouty lips making his face uniquely his. No one looked or smelled like Chris to you. He was him, no one else compared.

You were suspended in his arms for what felt like forever. Only the tips on your toes were planted on the ground as he held you tightly to his body. He only decided to put you down when you cleared your throat out of awkwardness. He chuckled lightly, the sound of it rumbling in your chest as he gently sat you back down. 

“It's been a while.. hasn't it?” you mumbled. Why were you being so weird about this? Your voice didn’t even sound like your own. Why the hell would you even say something stupid like that? Of course it had been a while. It was your fault you lost contact in the first place. He tried for months to get a hold of you, but you dodged him and his attempts to get you. Your ex justified you cutting your college best friend off with "I don't like the way he looks at you. It's like he could and would eat you up. Then he looks at me like he wants to kill me.” Looking back at it now, it was probably for good reason. Chris always had a good read on people, your ex was now included in that.

“A while? That's a bit of an understatement, isn't it?” He raised an eyebrow. He had gone from someone you saw damn near everyday to this being the first time you'd seen him in almost a year. Pushing away your refuge and comfort person was the biggest mistake you'd made in this life, besides dating any of your scuzzball exes of course. “A year, give or take a few weeks maybe. It's been almost a year since we've last seen each other.” He placed a hand on your shoulder to reassure you, “But all that matters is where we go from here, yeah? I would love to be petty and say that you’ll have to spend the rest of your life making it up to me, but since you no longer have a place to stay that isn’t your moms…let's start off a new chapter.” 

He cleared his throat and took a step back from you. His shadow casted over you, giving you some relief from the scorching summer sun. A gentle breeze blew past, sweeping his seaside scent over your senses, transporting you to a better time and place where all of your time was spent in the comfort of his presence. He made you feel at peace, even if you knew your life had gone to complete shit over the last year. He made you forget about all your misfortunes. 

“Hi, I'm Christopher. I wanted to offer you a helping hand, since you have all these boxes. Would you like me to help you put them in your car?” 

You giggled, it felt like the first time you'd met him all over again. His accent sounded just as thick, his eyes shining just as bright, his smile just as warm as it was all those years ago. You dotted your forehead with the back of your arm in an attempt to get at least some of the sweat off, then rubbed it on your ripped jeans. You extended your hand, taking his much bigger one in yours. His hands were always so warm and this handshake was no exception. You slowly shook hands as if this was the first time you’d ever done so.

“It’s nice to meet you, Christopher. I’m Y/N.” You couldn’t help the smile that painted your face, maybe this was as good of time as any to start anew with your old friend. 

“You mean to tell me, you want me to believe you gave up all that money and your corporate job, to… teach?” He laughed, his lopsided dimples showing as he stuffed a few fries in his mouth. He’d convinced you to go get lunch with him at some out of town diner. It was on the road back to New Orleans and right now you’d do anything to get out of this shithole you were currently occupying space in. Running into your ex wasn’t something you even wanted to think about, let alone do. It’d be best to go back home to where you came from. Then at least you wouldn’t be living in your car or going through the trash of places like this after closing looking for food. Plus, Chris was back home. What was a better incentive than that?

He leaned back in his seat, “Yeah. Not long after your grandpa’s funeral I did a few volunteer hours at this home for disadvantaged youth. That led to me traveling to a few different warring countries to help build shelters and teach the youth some valuable skills.” He shrugged, “I found out that I loved it. Helping to mold youth with my own hands. They are the future after all.” 

You rolled your eyes, there goes that goody-two-shoes act. He hadn’t changed as much as you thought. “I took a month off work to decide if that was really what I wanted to do, and the rest is history.” He sipped his strawberry milkshake before speaking again, “What about you? Huh?”

You slumped in your seat, confidence blown to smithereens after hearing all the wonderful things Chris had done over the last year. What have you achieved besides homelessness, manlessness, and joblessness? The ‘I got nothing going on in my life trifecta.’ “I- uh…” You paused, trying to think of some way to embellish your shortcomings into something that sounded somewhat interesting. But it seemed your mind was packed up in one of the boxes in your backseat. “Honestly?” 

He nodded for you to continue. You chewed on your lip, fearing that honesty was going to make you seem far more pitiful than you were trying to let off. “Shit has been bad since I left New Orleans.” you paused to take a breath, feeling like the weight that had been dragging you down for over a year now was slowly being lifted off your shoulders. 

“I miss my mom, my friends, you…” You sighed, “I miss the city and all the shit we used to get into, the fucking food..” You had been pushing the food around on your plate for the last ten minutes, how the fuck did they mess up a club sandwich and fries? Plus your coke was flat and scarily see through. 

“I have to admit.. The food here used to be better.” His words sparked a memory. He did travel down to St. Martinville quite a lot back in college. You never knew the reason, it wasn’t like he had family here. “How about this- since this was my suggestion in the first place, I’ll pay for the bill..” He was going to do that in the first place, you knew him. Even if it had been a transformative year for him, he was still the same Christopher. “Then, when you get settled and back at home, you can treat me to a meal.” He leaned in as if he had a big secret to tell, “I still have a weak spot for your cooking, if you want to go that route and skip going out all together. That would also prevent me from purposely ordering the most expensive thing on the menu out of spite.” 

You laughed, appreciating his understanding of your current financial predicament. You had enough to get gas on your way back to New Orleans, but that was about it. There were moths in your bank account with how bare it was at this point.

“Cook you a meal? Sounds like a sweet deal to me.” You agreed, almost too easily. “It’s been a while since I flexed in the kitchen, though. My boy-,” You sighed, you still hadn’t gotten used to saying what your relationship with that man was now that you were no longer together. “My ex didn’t like cajun or southern food very much. Truthfully, he didn’t like anything with seasoning or didn’t come from a fast food restaurant or out of a bag.” 

You started to play with the food on your plate once again as you recounted your experience, “Last time I cooked for him, he said it was too spicy and that I was trying to poison him. He got so angry he threw the plate and it dented the drywall. His issues are why I’m not getting anything back on that stupid deposit. That and my late rent..” You felt annoyed. Why had you put up with your ex and his foolishness? He was a paranoid man child with anger issues and you sat by and let him treat you poorly, expecting that one day he might change. He didn’t, he was incapable of doing that, it wasn’t in him.

“You don’t have to worry about him anymore. He’s in the past and we will leave him there. You can get back to being the old you, find whatever parts of you that you feel went missing since you left town. You know I’ll have your back through it all.” Chris always had a way of lifting your spirits, making you feel as if everything could be alright, even if the current circumstances said otherwise. “It’s a long drive back home, you should get going.” He grabbed your hand over the table, giving it a reassuring squeeze. 

“Wait- aren’t you coming back with me?” He shook his head, looking down at his hand on yours, thumb tracing patterns on your skin. He took a moment before he spoke as if thinking deeply about what he wanted to say before uttering a word.

“I have a few things here to take care of here and after that, I’ll be back. I won’t give you time to miss me, I promise.” 

You couldn’t help the shy smile that graced your face at his words. “I’ll just be here overnight and then I’m heading back.” He sat back again, fingers slowly slipping away from yours to rest on his lap. “That will give you time to settle back into your old room. You know your mom hasn’t touched it since you moved.” 

You chuckled, she was a sucker for nostalgia. If she felt that was a way to keep a part of her baby with her, then she could rightfully do that. “So come up with a meal plan. I’ll pick you up when I get back tomorrow and we can go grocery shopping and I’ll introduce you to my roommates.” Chris had been living alone the whole time you’d known him. It had something to do with his allergies or something of that nature. Why all of a sudden did he have roommates?

“Oh? Is this the same guy who didn’t want to live off campus with me because of ‘allergies?’ That you?” He chuckled, shrugging his shoulders before looking you square in the eyes and answering. 

“Couldn’t shack up with the girl I like, now could I?” Did your heart just flutter? You shook it off. Brushing his comment off as just a flirty little joke. Christopher was a flirt, even if he’d vehemently deny it if you asked.

“Please.” You laughed, “The girl you liked? You must be referring to Suzy. Wait- no, Rebekkah with two ‘k's’.” You mocked the girl's annoyingly chipper voice while waving two fingers in the air like she used to when telling people how to spell her name. “Wait- no, not her either. What was her name? Oh Kimberly, the red head with the thick thighs and fat ass. You had the hots for her so bad you tripped over your own feet looking at her, not just once either. Didn’t you break your laptop like that?” His cheeks tinted with a soft shade of pink.

“You said you wouldn’t bring that back up!” He whined. This tattooed, buff, grown man just whined. And you couldn’t deny, it was cute as shit.

CHAPTER INDEX ⇠☾⇢NEXT CHAPTER

© ✐Channieskies 『MINORS DNI! This post contains nsfw material. Please do not interact with it if you are under the age of 18. Do not translate or repost here or on other sites. Please leave a like, comment, and reblog if you enjoyed this story.』

[soraviie]

tugging at his hair.txt

━ type: bts x gn! reader  ━ navigation

━ about: angst, fluff, (themes of) smut, the holy trifecta  ━ pictures taken from Pinterest

━ a/n: may or may not have seen Yoongi's insta pic...may or may not be feeling very normal about it

━ previously posted on soraviii

NAMJOON: Atypically, your boyfriend was actually quite the whiny guy. Friday evening, time - 20:30. Thanks to some uncanny miracle, Namjoon was free this night and you’d been eager to soak up each other’s company. You sat largely silent, tucked into his side and openly staring, merely breathing an infrequent “yeah” and “no way” so he wouldn’t suspect you were not listening. Though you were not listening, catching the jumping cadence of his offended voice only with the tip of your ears. Far too engrossed in admiring the glowing shade of his skin and furiously working cheeks, you felt your mind slip. Never before have you thought that someone resting on the couch, passively aggressively minding on chips could make your heart bleed with love. But everything about Namjoon was soft and comfortable. 

Unwittingly, you zeroed in on the tuft of his hair, poking out from underneath his hoodie. Without fully registering, you trailed your fingers down the hood, pulling it down and proceeded to tug at the back of his hair. Namjoon’s cheeks froze and with mouth full, he glanced at your side. 

“What are you doing?” 

“Don’t know,” you shrugged. “You’re compelling like that.”

He returned back to the chips, completely unperturbed by the looks of it. 

“You need to condition them more,” noting absent-mindedly, you played with whatever strand called your fancy. He rolled his eyes, pinching your bare thigh. 

“Ow!

“You should be whispering sweet nothings in my ear,” he grumbled. “Confess how much you adore me, how hot I am.”

“Right,” you agreed, leaning into his expectant expression. “Your hair is also greasy as fuck. You should shower more.”

Violently, he hurled you into the decorative pillows scrunched from your combined weight, frowning at the easy laughter bubbling from your throat.

“I’m dating a bully,” he muttered bitterly, yet when you nosed at his neck, he craned it with no small amount of enthusiasm, playing with the hem of your shirt. 

“Sure are,” you purred. “Can I play with your greasy hair more? Pretty please?” His eyes lingered, firmly set on the playing movie, but you reckoned his neck did grow increasingly warmer. 

“You’ll do it no matter what I say.” 

“‘Cause you’ve never said “no” to me.”

At that, he heaved a tormented sigh. 

“True. I’m but a lowly servant of love.”

You chuckled, pushing the black hair away from his forehead, messing it up. After a moment, with a barely concealed grin, he offered:

“Maybe now I can card through your leg hair.”

“Not funny,” you glared at him but Namjoon merely sniggered further on. 

“A little funny.”

YOONGI: Your hand was practically aching as it laid listlessly by your side, partially sinking into the plush sofa of his studio. Fully drowned in work, he sat by the monitor, one hand coming to rest by his lips, the other - tinkering with the beat. And his hair - the hair - curled around him like a ring of halo. He drew a heavy sigh, reaching up to muss the chief objects of unease further. Yet you couldn’t just follow the delirious caprice. Yoongi was a guarded man, he liked his personal space and, despite how much you longed for it, you couldn’t just tug at his long hair. The relationship was still fresh and had to be trodden like a melting glacier - nice and easy. Crossing the itching arms over your stomach, you huffed in discontent. 

“What?” he suddenly hummed, and you recoiled, assuming he was blissfully ignorant of your lingering stare. 

“Nothing,” you replied, but his chair turned, a pair of disbelieving eyes falling your way.

“Just say it.”

“I want to tug at your hair,” the sentence practically rushed out as though your body was actively disregarding your own orders. 

“Why don’t you just do it?”

You nibbled with your fingers suddenly feeling rather foolish. 

“I want to be respectful,” you muttered underneath the nose, and a second later, you grasped what sound Yoongi was making. Laughing.

He was laughing at you.

Resting his forehead against the desk, you saw his shoulders wag in muffled glee. 

“You know,” he faced you, eyes twinkling in amusement. “Most couples grope each other the first chance they get.”

“Oh, shut it,” groaning, you sank into the sofa, only for all objections to wither into the ether once Yoongi lowered his head with a soft “come ‘ere”. 

Cautiously, fearing the dream could shatter at the moment’s passing, you made your way to where he sat and with bated breath curled your palm around his fluffy curls, giving them a tender yet generous pull. Something akin to instant relief flooded your system, making the tips of your fingers tingle. 

“Enjoying yourself?” Yoongi wondered, the curve of his smile suggesting he was barely holding himself back from teasing you into oblivion. You tugged at his hair once more, this time harder, and a prolonged moan left his lips, startling you both. 

“Not as much as you, it seems,” you smirked down at him, enjoying how his eyes flitted away from you, self-conscious red dusting his cheeks. 

“Just go for it next time,” he grumbled shyly, making no move to pull away. “Before you give yourself an IBS.”

JIN: He knew what you wanted by the frankly terrifying gleam hidden behind your eye. There was something entirely transfixed passing your expression as you stared at his head with steely determination. Ordinarily, Jin was content with your inexplicable obsession. Rather this than pulling at his cheeks, he reckoned, however, now…

“I won’t pry ________ off of me,” he whined, gazing into a mirror. Even to his completely normal and unscrambled brain, the permed curls resting atop his forehead seemed inviting. Fluffy. Moussed. Reasonably asking to be tugged. 

“Oh, what a torture,” Namjoon dragged aridly, perched in the corner, not unlike a sullen owl. “You have someone to go home to who loves to play with your hair. Poor you.”

Graciously ignoring the seeping sarcasm, JIn breathed a tormented sigh. 

“I know right.”

Namjoon merely rolled his eyes, returning back to his quiet moping. 

When Jin crossed the threshold, he found you immersed in laundry, folding it and turning to greet him home like always.

“Hello!” you exclaimed cheerfully. “How was your da-”

Frightfully, he swallowed. Your expression grew distant and in spite of his jerky movements, your attention never wavered from the top of his head. 

“May I eat at least?” he mewled weakly and you nodded just not before actually thinking about it. 

After eating in peace, the last one he’d get for the evening, Jin slowly trodded to the bedroom, shoulders hung low in premature defeat. On the other side of the door, you were waiting for him already, blinking expectantly from underneath the covers. After a prolonged groan, he obliged your whims and settled his head on your lap. To get it over with. 

Instantly, your fingers delved deep into his curls, tugging and twirling them to your heart’s strange desire. 

“How cute,” you gushed. “So fluffy!”

Jin closed his eyes, trying to suppress the blossoming smile. Perhaps, he didn’t entirely hate being coddled in such a fashion but you didn’t need to know that. Unbeknownst, to him, you were more than aware as, in spite of his efforts to mask the pleased grimace, he failed to conceal the ears burning bright red. 

HOSEOK: “Sorry,” he said, squirming and glancing to the side. “But no.”

Well, no was no and you just had to learn how to live with it. Every time your hand subconsciously reached to grasp a strand of his hair between your fingers, not really meaning anything good or bad, just doing so out of instinct, you reigned it back, forcing the treasonous hand to ultimately fall unused. It may or may not have taken you a whole year to timidly wonder aloud:

“Why don’t you like for me to touch your hair?” 

Hoseok was practically asleep - his voice came crackling from the other side of the bed. 

“It’s nothing personal,” he sighed, cracking one eye open, glancing at your demure expression through the dark. “It’s just…” then he fell silent. Only after a pregnant pause, one long enough for you to assume he’d succumbed to sleep, he casually brushed it off:

“It’s just a preference.”

He rolled on the side and the conversation ended there. 

“Hey, ______________!” Jimin greeted you brightly the second you took a step inside the partially hidden makeup studio. Being nearly four in the morning, filming’s end, sparsely anyone was present and even those few people didn’t bother acknowledging you through the haze of insomnia. 

“What are you doing here?” 

He smirked, all cheek as always. 

“Could ask the same for you. It’s really late.”

You shrugged, enjoying the distraction of easy chatter. 

“Couldn’t sleep. Supposed Hoseok would appreciate some company home.”

“Ah, dear ______________,” Jimin snaked a hand around your shoulder. “Geniuses think alike.”

“Oh no,” you laughed, scurrying away from his treacherous hold. “Don’t try to seduce me into being your fangirl. It won’t happen.”

What was with Jimin and his tenacious will to make himself your bias you did not know and you never quite asked either, although it provided plenty of icebreakers across the slew of accidental meetings. 

“Shame,” he drawled. “Maybe better though. Hoseok would kill me.”

To properly lament the wretched situation, Jimin sighed and reached to rake a hand through his hair. Hair that had been growing out and now sat shining with silver highlights. Unwittingly, your hand jolted by the side of your thigh. 

“You want to touch?” he offered, sporting a grin too devious for your peace of mind. You probably shouldn’t but what’s the big deal…It’s just hair…

Doors to the room sprang open with a great bang and you crossed gazes with Hoseok, instantly swallowing in guilt. With expression previously lax, now growing cloudy, he flitted between you and Jimin. 

“What’s going on?” with narrowed glare, he questioned, voice falling in a carefully curated tone which was, of course, far more menacing. 

“Just waiting for you superstar,” Jimin laughed thinly only to wither when placed underneath Hoseok’s chilling frown. “On second thought, I’ll get home on my lonesome. Goodbye!”

And without giving anyone the time to even blink, Jimin had already disappeared into thin air. No, he was definitely not winning any favours from you.  

The drive back home was spent in fraught silence, with Hoseok’s hands gripping the wheel so tight, every now and then it heaved a maltreated scream. Any minute soon the wrath bubbling underneath his skin would surge like pressurised water out of a geyser. However, Hoseok wasn’t a jealous person, even less when it came to the members. Both were trusted explicitly. Was it stress perhaps? 

Finally, he crumbled. 

“What is it with you and hair?” he sneered sharply. Straight away you bristled at the unspoken accusation. 

“Nothing. Better yet what’s with you? I can’t even talk to Jimin now?”

“You went to him with the one thing, I couldn’t give you,” he countered as the car surged with tension.

“I did not go to him!” you squalled in frustration. “Are you even hearing yourself?!”

“It’s our thing!”

“No, it’s mine! You hate -!”

“It’s because of my ex, okay?!”

An awkward silence settled in the space between you. Red light pooled through the windshield.

“She liked to play with my hair,” he explained, anger abating as it was quickly seized by contrite embarrassment. “And I was afraid that if you’d do it, I would unwillingly think of her. You deserve better than that.” 

You bit your lip to stop the growing smile, simply breathing: “I see.” Then - 

“However, how would I know what you’re thinking?”

He stared ahead, lips thinning identical to yours. 

“Probably wouldn’t,” he sighed. “But I’d feel at blame.”

You hummed and gazed outside the window, still battling the blossoming smile, though it was nothing compared to the warmth churning within your chest. A hand reached for yours and Hoseok guided your fingers towards his hair. It was finer than you realized but nice. It was Hoseok after all. 

“Are you thinking of her?” you gently pondered. 

“Not at all,” he whispered in a breathy voice, eyes briefly falling shut. “You’re the only one for me.”

JIMIN: Instead of happiness, his lips pursed into a thin line, gaze becoming evasive. 

“Thank you, but I’m too tired.”

“I’ll help you.”

“I…I’m not in the mood for sex either.”

“It’s not that,” you sighed forlornly, literally feeling him slip through the cracks of your fingers. “Just…get in, and I’ll take care of you,” in a smaller voice, you added. “Like you do of me.”

Standing in the cracked gap of the bathroom door, he contemplated for a second, before breathing a heavy exhale, one expressing the entire weight of the world. Water sloshed as he got in the bath you drew up, and the window soon was covered by a thick layer of condensation, the deep black night growing matted behind it. 

“You don’t have to do this,” he tossed over the bare shoulder, but you brushed his concerns away. 

“I want to.”

“If it's because what I said -”

“It’s not.”

“- then I was out of line.”

“You were not.”

“I take it back.”

“You shouldn’t.”

“But -”

Every time he spoke, his head turned to steal a glimpse of you, perhaps entirely on instinct, the water doused you with a heavy wave, drenching the floor and dumping the rose petals out with it. You grasped his head between your palms, keeping him still at least long enough to apologize sans the pain of his scrutinising gaze. 

“I’m sorry,” you confessed, letting your forehead rest on the back of his neck. “I won’t ever let you feel like taken for granted.” 

He sat unmoving for a long time and you gasped shakily, trying to swallow the budding tears. Well, obviously you would self-sabotage the only good thing in your life. Only naturally at this point in life...

…but this was Jimin and it didn’t matter whether you tucked yourself away in a locked room or an ocean away, he’d extend you the same kindness you were so eager to return. Pulling your arms around his neck, he smiled, laying a tender kiss upon your trembling knuckles. 

“Nothing to forgive,” he muttered. “We were never in the wrong.”

You choked back a sob. Nonetheless, the night was still about him. 

“Right,” you sobered up, pushing him lower in the water. “Just try to relax.”

“Are you planning to kill me?” he teased tiredly. “Besides, it’s a bit difficult given that my cock is just…out here,” he gestured vaguely at his lower part and you chuckled thinly. 

“Nothing new to me. This is just…romantic.”

“Well, you certainly know the befitting aesthetic,” pointedly, he peered across the dozens of scent-free candles littered over every available surface of the bathroom and the pink petals now displayed haphazardly between the bath and the grey mat beside it. 

Pressing a handful of shampoo in his hair, you hissed with mock annoyance: “oh, zip it.”

You kept working in now pleasant silence. Peace was in the house, at least it was until…

His groan was near explicit and watching Jimin throw his head back, nuzzling deeper into your hands, you knew you’d never forget the sight. It didn’t even seem like he’d registered it and soon enough the curiosity overwhelmed you. You rinsed his hair and then scratched lightly across the scalp. Another moan, even longer and somehow so filthy you could swear your entire body flushed. 

“So…” he chuckled, strangely nervous. “Did I just give you a quick way to control my entire nervous system?”

You laid a kiss on his nape and the water rippled from his shudder.

“Sure did.”

The moons now adorning his spine were entirely at fault here or so you insisted, tugging his styled hair between your fingers, occasionally scratching just to see the struggle to keep his eyes open. 

“The stylist is going to kill you,” he warned breathily but Jimin was never more grateful for losing his composure, that day in the bath than he was at this moment. Like grime washed away by a wet towel, your presence eased his worry into the void, while your fingers twirling his hair kept him there. How strange that such a small thing could do so much but then again if it did not, then would Jimin have bought a ring that now laid in his jacket pocket, heavy and searing like the infinite weight of Cosmos.

“Worth it,” you hummed. He couldn’t agree more. 

TAEHYUNG: Frankly, the question of your enjoyment never made it into the equation as before you could even wonder of the idea, Taehyung had shamelessly thrust his head into your lap. 

“I don’t wanna,” you whined by now not needing a verbal order to know what he craved. 

“Too bad,” retorting without so much as an ounce of empathy, he grasped your fingers, bringing them down upon his head. Five minutes later he was snoring on your legs and no amount of force could rouse him, divine or otherwise. It was a language of his, one he talked exclusively with you. 

Trees breezed past the rolling car and sitting still, you watched them blur into wide, rushing lines. At first innocent, his palm intertwined with yours, gaze locked on the road ahead. You hummed. He liked to hold hands, and so did you, only for yours to suddenly be submerged within his dark curls. 

“Seriously?!” you yelped, and he chuckled with no small amount of glee. 

The door smacked behind, or it would have if Taehyung had not been hot on your heels the entire way home. 

“I’m sorry,” Taehyung mumbled, by now so many times it didn’t remotely even sound like a proper sentence. 

“Not accepted,” you sneered, yanking off the jacket, maybe tearing a button or two in the process. “You embarrassed me! And for what?! Some childish caveman display of jealousy?” 

The rest of the insult is expressed through a hardened scowl. As you jostled, enraged and unthinking, to peel off the stifling layers, Taehyung enclosed you into a hug, towering above you, his head lowered into the crook of your neck. 

“Please, don’t be mad at me,” pitifully he muttered, a warm breath ghosting over your collarbone. “Take it out on me but promise you won’t be mad afterwards.”

Without even quite thinking, you wrenched out of his grasp and seized his hair, yanking it harshly towards you. At the back of your mind, panic took root - were you hurting him? Was this not wrong? But Taehyung grew positively limp, pliant, Adam’s apple bobbing nervously as his widened eyes tracked your every movement. 

“I’m really angry,” you whispered with a frown. 

“I’m sorry,” uselessly, he whimpered when you grasped at his locks. “It’s just…”

All you have to do is tug again for a high-pitched squeal to rip from the depths of his chest. “Don’t want to lose you.”

Something in the near incoherent way he breathed it, made your heart soften. 

“Why are you crying?” you asked quietly, wiping the stray tear off his cheek. 

Early morning hued the sky pink as you lay beside each other, relishing in the muted stillness of the room. 

“Don’t know,” Taehyung sniffled. “Felt like it.”

You reached to brush his hair and soon enough he was slumbering again - all tears faded into the dawning cold. 

JUNGKOOK: Frankly, you didn’t grasp why in situations such as these the other partner always offered sex. You were far more willing to simply lug this nightstand at Jungkook’s head. Without knocking you cracked open the doors to his gaming room, discerning the explosive sounds of combat swirling around the room. 

“Jungkook, you promised!” you complained and he held out a hand, gaze locked on the game. 

“I’ll be there soon, babe,” he lied in between strangled curses. “Just one more round.”

He’d muttered that already two fruitless hours ago. 

“No, now!” you threatened, coming to stand by his chair, watching the battle unfold, thoroughly unimpressed by it. He offered some incoherent noise that lacked any meaning, and in a flash of swirling annoyance, you yanked at his hair, forcing his eyes to land upside down upon your face. 

“Now.”

Most people would hastily become upset at such a gesture but the little masochist grinned from cheek to cheek, expression gaining a certain twinkle. You groaned at his satisfaction. Couldn’t even playfully torment him. The brat enjoyed it. 

“Okay, folks,” he spoke into the headset, with your hand still firmly latched in his shaggy hair. “It’s been a pleasure, but I’ve got to go.”

Someone hollered in the chat but it went entirely unheard. Pushing the chair away from the desk, he reached to pull your other arm to rest on top of his thundering heart. 

“What’s up, babe?”

For someone who was jerked by the roots of his hair, Jungkook appeared entirely too delighted. 

“I need you -”

“Oh, you need me?”

“To hammer in the nails to the nightstand. Brat,” saying so, your grip on his hair grew harsher. All that came of it was Jungkook’s raspy laughter, eyes briefly fluttering shut and lips carving a sharp line in his dimpled cheeks. 

“Couldn’t you just do it yourself?”

“Well if injury is to happen, I’d prefer it is you, not me.”

“Liar,” he smirked. “You cried when I tripped.”

Traitorous heat snuck its way onto your cheeks. 

“I thought your leg broke,” you muttered before nudging him outside. “Now get to working.”

“Yes, my liege,” he curtsied, proceeding then to wring his tattooed hands around your waist, making you hobble like some sort of overtly humped creature. His nose quickly delved into its reserved spot in the crook of your neck. 

“Always smell so good,” hazily, Jungkook muttered and you shook your head at his antics. 

“You’re so weird.”

“Says the one who's constantly trying to dom me by hair pulling.”

“It’s not a dom thing!”

“Sure, baby,” he rasped, planting a wet kiss against your neck. “Whatever you say. Just remember you now owe me three hair pulls in return.”

© soraviii/soraviie 2022-2023

[virtie333]

Trifecta

Well, hello! First of all, thank you to my regular readers who followed me over to this ship. Second, for those who don’t know me, I usually write for straight monogamous relationships, namely Damerey. But I’ve been wanting to sail on this ship for a long time, and finally got the guts to visit.

It must be noted that while Finn and Poe are in a committed sexual relationship at the beginning of this story, I myself do not know enough about gay sex to be comfortable writing it. Yet. Therefore, this first foray of mine will be focusing on Rey and what her boys can do for her. I may venture further into their relationship in the future.

As always, all sexual relations are consensual and loving!

Explicit Sexual Content, Polyamory (MMF), Oral Sex (both M and F receiving), P in V (all are on Star Wars version of birth control), Multiple Female Orgasms (It’s my party!), Creampie x 2, Way Too Many Emotions Just under 7k Words

Also found on AO3

Rey was dozing as she sat on the floor, her back against the sofa, the holomovie that BB-8 was projecting in front of her nearing the end, when a soft sigh of pleasure jerked her awake. Grimacing slightly, she glanced over her shoulder at the two people cuddled on the sofa behind her, knowing what she would see. Finn sat with his head resting on Poe’s shoulder, a smirk on his face, as Poe sat with his eyes shut tight, his jaw slack, his breathing heavy. A blanket covered their laps, but Rey was pretty sure she knew what was going on underneath.

With a soft sigh of her own, she turned back to the movie. She wasn’t mad. How could she be mad? The two people she loved most in the galaxy had finally realized they loved each other and had settled into a committed, faithful relationship. They were still her best friends and still in her life, sharing an apartment just down the hall from her own. She was so very happy for them.

But there were still times they inadvertently made her feel so alone.

It wasn’t their fault. They did an amazing job of including her in everything they did, and they never made her feel like she wasn’t wanted. She was busy enough that they had plenty of private time without her, so when she was with them it always felt like the three of them were whole once more, as it had been during the war, when they first bonded with each other. But when it was late, and they were all tired, the two men tended to get handsy with each other, and while she knew they made an effort to not make her uncomfortable, she was far too attuned to the both of them to not notice what was going on.

The last few months since the war’s official end had been busy for all of them. Finn had set off with Lando Calrissian and Jannah to start looking for his birth family as soon as he was able. Rey had hated seeing him go. She had formed a strong attachment to the former stormtrooper, and had even thought there might be more than friendship once upon a time, but when Finn’s attention had turned to Rose, Rey had stopped thinking like that about him. Eventually, he and Rose’s relationship had turned into just friendship, but then the war had ended and he had headed off to seek his past. She supported him completely, but missed him while he was gone.

Fortunately, she still had Poe. When the newly formed Intergalactic Alliance had asked her to join their efforts as they tried to establish a new, peaceful government on Coruscant, she couldn’t help but say yes. Temporarily. When Poe had also accepted their request for his help, she had been overjoyed, knowing she wouldn’t be alone. And Poe had indeed stayed with her through it all, joking that he was protecting her from unscrupulous politicians and making sure she wasn’t taken advantage of. She knew it wasn’t a joke; he really did scare off anyone that even thought about using her for their own political goals. They acquired apartments next to each other and spent most of their free time together, already planning for the day when they could leave the newborn government and do what they really wanted. Poe wanted to start a flight school and Rey, of course, wanted to start training young Jedi. Poe knew the perfect planet for both schools.

The day they learned that Finn had found his home planet, and that both his parents and his two siblings had been killed years ago trying to defend him and other children from the First Order, they had both immediately taken leave and come to him. They brought him back with them to Coruscant, and without almost any discussion at all, he had moved in with Poe. Rey had been so happy to see the two of them finally settle together; it was inevitable, she had thought. They were meant for each other.

Just as she was meant to be alone.

Rey closed her eyes and tried to focus on the words and sounds coming from the movie. She tried to tell herself she wasn’t jealous. How could she be jealous? It’s not like she had ever had a physical, romantic relationship. Why should she miss something she had never had? But maybe… maybe that was her problem. Maybe she was just… horny. Maybe she should take a lover, someone to help her discover the intimacies of sex without the emotional attachment. Could she do that? Could she trust someone enough to become physical with them?

The credits began to roll and she opened her eyes. Now was her chance to escape. She yawned and stretched her arms up into the air. “I think I fell asleep,” she said. “Did I miss anything?”

“Naw,” Poe grumbled good naturedly. “It really wasn’t that good. We need to pick something better next time.”

“I told you,” Finn argued back. “We should have picked Beckett’s Last Stand. That one looked good!”

Rey looked back just in time to see Poe roll his eyes. She laughed, then pushed herself to her feet. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow,” she told them softly, her heart swelling with emotion as she looked at her boys, still cuddled together on the sofa. She really didn’t want to leave, but she knew she couldn’t stay. “Have a good night.” She turned toward the door.

“Rey?” Finn sat forward suddenly.

She looked at him, then at Poe, who was watching Finn with a furrowed brow. She looked back at Finn. “Yeah?”

Finn glanced at Poe, then he sat back, his expression almost sad. “Nothing. We’ll see you tomorrow.”

Rey nodded and gave them a quick grin. Poe was looking at her again, his eyes huge in the dim light of the room. He almost looked… wistful.

She smiled again, turned, and left the apartment.

******

Tylan Montrose was on the same committee she and Poe sat on. He was tall, smart, funny, and very good looking. He was a few years older than Rey and had been a part of the Republic Navy when the Hosnian System had been destroyed. He had been visiting his family on Vernell when the cataclysm had happened, and he had stayed there to help protect his planet, but he had also been a part of the great force that had attacked Exegol, answering the call for help when it came. He and Poe had become good friends since their arrival on Coruscant, and he had shown a definite interest in Rey. When she had politely declined his offer to go out for caf, Poe, who had overheard, told her that she should have said yes. “He’s a good guy,” he had told her.

If Poe trusted him, then she could. Right?

So, she had found Tylan after their meeting and struck up a conversation with him. After a while, she had asked him to join her for dinner that night at the Rockani, one of her favorite restaurants. He had said yes without any hesitation, a huge smile on his face.

Rey had no clue what she was doing, but she must have been saying the right things that night, because when he saw her to her apartment after dinner and she asked him inside, there was once more no hesitation from him. Unfortunately, only minutes after he started kissing her, she knew it wasn’t going to go any further. She was uncomfortable and felt no desire whatsoever. When she pulled back, Tylan didn’t push forward.

“Too soon?” he had asked.

Laughing nervously, she nodded. “I guess.” She wasn’t sure she would ever be ready. Not with this man. Not with anybody.

He had left without any anger and Rey found herself sitting on the floor, her back to the front door, trying not to cry.

A knock sounded and she jumped. She had a bell. Only one person ever knocked.

Sighing, she stood and keyed the door to slide open. Poe stood on the other side, Finn right behind him. They both looked worried.

“He didn’t stay long,” Poe was saying. “Is everything okay?”

She huffed and turned to walk over to her sofa, sitting down on it heavily. “What? Are you guys spying on me?”

They followed her, and as they often did when they thought she needed comforting (they always knew when she needed comforting), they sat on either side of her, Poe on her left, Finn on her right.

“Of course not,” Finn was saying.

“We just knew you had a date with Tylan and were paying attention when he brought you home.” Poe was looking at her intently. “He… didn’t try anything you didn’t want, did he?”

Rey looked at him, giving him a smile with no humor in it. “Don’t you think you would have found him in two pieces on the floor if he had?”

He rolled his eyes and brought his arm up around her shoulders. “Yeah, yeah.”

“Just not your type, huh?” Finn asked, leaning into her.

She sighed, already more comfortable sandwiched between these two men than she had been with Tylan at any point during their date. “I’m not sure I have a type,” she said. “I just want…”

“What?” Finn whispered.

“Someone with a lightsaber as cool as yours?” Poe asked.

Rey laughed and turned to him. “There is no such person.”

Poe grinned. “True.” His smile faded and he looked past her at Finn. “But… there is us.”

Rey frowned at him, glanced at Finn, then back at Poe. “You?”

Poe nodded. “Yeah. Finn and I.”

Rey’s heart started to race. “I – I’m not sure what you mean?”

“We love you, Rey,” Finn said, bringing his face close to her. When she turned toward him, he brought his forehead in to touch hers.

“And I love you both, but…”

“But?”

“You have each other.”

“You don’t think we’re capable of loving you just as much as we love each other?”

“I… I didn’t think you looked at me that way.” Her voice sounded small. Hopeful.

“We always have,” Poe said softly. “We’ve been wanting to ask if you felt the same for a while. I knew you felt that way for Finn, I just…” he paused, glancing at Finn again, then looking back at her. “I just wasn’t sure you looked at me like that.”

Rey stared at him now, and she felt tears well up in her eyes. “I do,” she whispered. “I always have. Since the first day I met you.”

“I told you so,” Finn said, a smile on his face.

Poe shoved Finn slightly with the hand that was over Rey’s shoulder, then focused on her again. “Do you trust us, Rey?”

“Implicitly.”

He nodded. “Then let us take care of you.”

Rey felt a sudden tightness between her legs at his words, and she squeezed her thighs together, the shot of desire much stronger than anything she had ever felt before. She looked back and forth between the two of them, in awe of how they were both focused on her, looking at her the way she had only seen them look at each other before. Was it possible, she wondered? Was it true that she could really become a part of their bond in this way?

“Yes,” she whispered. “Please, yes.”

They ended up at Poe and Finn’s apartment because Rey mentioned that their bed was much bigger than hers.

Rey couldn’t believe how excited she was as these two men she loved and trusted more than anyone led her into their shared bedroom. Once there, Finn wrapped his arms around her and began to gently nuzzle her cheek. “You’ll let us know if we do anything you don’t like, right?”

Rey nodded, suddenly afraid. What if she didn’t like any of it? She’d touched herself in the past, but it had always led to less than satisfying results. Maybe she couldn’t enjoy sex?

Finn moved his face closer to hers and she closed her eyes as his lips made contact. He was so gentle, and so careful, and she liked it. It wasn’t at all like the kisses she had just shared with Tylan. She wanted more.

She brought her arms up around his neck and opened her mouth, inviting more from him, and he responded by opening his own mouth and letting his tongue touch hers. She shivered, loving the sensation, and began tasting him in earnest. He moaned, his arms tightening around her middle. All too soon, he pulled back, looking behind her at Poe. She also looked over, a bit dazed, and her eyes were immediately drawn to the older man’s bare chest. He had removed his shirt while she and Finn had been kissing.

He looked at her, a question in his eyes, and Rey reached for him, anxious to touch him. To taste him next. He smiled and drew her into his arms as she ran her hands along his bare shoulders.

“Poe’s gonna lead us through this, okay?” Finn said quietly from behind her. Rey looked at him over her shoulder. “I didn’t have a whole lot of experience before he and I became lovers, and none of it was really great until him.”

Rey looked back at Poe. “I have no experience,” she whispered.

Poe smiled softly. “I think you’ll figure it out pretty quick,” he told her. He looked at Finn. “This is going to be all about Rey tonight, Finn. Is that okay?”

“Absolutely,” Finn responded without hesitation. “I can’t wait to see her come over and over and over…”

“Finn!” Rey giggled, feeling her face heat. She looked at Poe, suddenly nervous again. “What if I can’t?”

Poe brought a hand up and stroked her cheek. “Judging by your reactions to us, I think you can,” he told her. “But even if you can’t, we’re still going to make this as enjoyable as possible for you. Deal?”

Rey nodded, and Poe’s lips quirked once more before he moved in to kiss her. Rey didn’t even hesitate this time, opening her mouth to accept his tongue, loving the feel as much as she had with Finn. As they kissed, she felt Finn’s hands on her hips, stroking her through her leggings, squeezing her. Suddenly, she wanted nothing more than to have them both touch her bare skin. She ran her hands down along Poe’s chest, enjoying the smoothness and heat of his skin. She looked down as her fingers trailed over his nipples, watching as they peaked at her touch. She looked over at Finn, realizing he, too, had removed his shirt. His dark chest was just as smooth as Poe’s but different. The contrast between the two men excited her. She wanted to explore them both completely.

Poe began to kiss and lick on her neck and she closed her eyes, letting her head fall back. Finn’s hands had worked up to the front of her body and were skimming up under the loose silky shirt she had worn for her date with Tylan. She held her breath as they reached her breasts, which she had left bare as she usually did when she wasn’t working. She let out a gasp as his hands cupped her gently, his large, rough fingers squeezing her firmly. A rush of moisture flowed from between her legs, and she wanted to be embarrassed, but she felt too good. Both of them touching her, standing shirtless with her tucked between their hard bodies…

She cried out, her knees feeling weak. She grasped Poe’s arm with one hand and reached back for Finn’s shoulder with the other to keep herself upright. “Kriff!” she swore. She never swore!

Poe lifted his head and she could hear his soft chuckle in her ear. “Yeah, I think you’re going to enjoy this, Sunshine.” He moved back more and she immediately missed his heat. “Let’s get you undressed,” he said, then looked at Finn.

She glanced at the man behind her, who was grinning and nodding. He also stepped back a bit, grasping the hem of Rey’s shirt and pulling it up and off of her in one smooth movement. Rey gasped again, looking at Poe in surprise, feeling far too exposed. He was looking at her breasts, biting his lower lip, and his appreciative expression actually soothed her. He looked up at her, maintaining eye contact with her as he stepped close once more. He reached for the fastener to her leggings on her hip, undoing it while he nuzzled her nose with his. He glanced behind her to Finn, and once more the two men seemed to communicate silently, as both reached for the waistband of her leggings and began tugging them down, taking her underwear with them.

Rey bit her lip as she reached out to brace herself on their shoulders, a laugh of pure joy bubbling up as they worked together to get her shoes and leggings off. Before she knew it, she was completely naked and the two men stood straight, both moving in front of her, both looking at her with hot eyes.

“Perfect,” Poe whispered.

“Kriffing beautiful,” Finn agreed.

Rey felt her whole body heat and knew her skin, so much paler than either of them, was turning bright red in various locations.

Poe smiled again, warm and inviting. “Why don’t you lay down on the bed, Rey?”

Taking a deep breath, Rey did as he asked, her legs still shaking. She crawled to the middle of the big bed, then lay down on her back, bracing herself on her elbows as she watched the men in front of her work at removing their boots and trousers. They were so different, she thought. The way they looked, the way they moved, the way they spoke. And yet, their hearts were almost identical. She felt tears form in her eyes as they gave each other a sweet kiss, suddenly knowing that was why she loved them both. They were both so very good, two extraordinarily kind people who had lived very hard lives and were now ready to live their happily ever after.

And they wanted her to be a part of it.

Her eyes were drawn downward as they turned to face her once more. Again, they were very different from each other, but both were rather intimidating. While she may have never had intercourse before, she wasn’t unfamiliar with male human anatomy, and both of these specimens were impressive. Finn’s was a bit longer, she thought, and the head was larger, but Poe’s was overall thicker. Finn was already almost fully erect, his dark cock standing stiffly out from a thin nest of black hair. Poe had more hair, and he was still only at half-mast. He gripped himself as she watched, running his hand along his length, and she knew it was age and experience that made him seem more relaxed, not lack of desire. She felt her pussy leak and she moaned softly, her hips rocking unconsciously.

Poe gave her a wicked smile and moved to the side of the bed on her right, still stroking himself. “Mmmmm,” he hummed. “You smell that, Finn?”

“Frick, yes!” Finn exclaimed, moving toward the opposite side of her.

They both climbed on the bed, stretching out on either side of her. “Let’s give her the perfect first time,” Poe whispered. Rey let herself fall back completely on the bed, and Poe followed her, taking her mouth with his once more and kissing her like there was no tomorrow. She felt Finn’s hand on her breast, and then his mouth. She arched her back and moaned into Poe’s mouth. She felt a hand, she wasn’t sure whose, gently grab her left wrist and direct her to Finn’s cock. She wrapped her hand around him, and as she did so the person directing her, Poe she determined, took her other wrist and directed it to his cock. Then he left her lips and moved down to mouth her other breast. She cried out, her hips jerking upward as they both began to suckle on her gently, her hands tightening on their cocks. “Oh, my stars!” she cried, as even more wetness leaked from her pussy.

Poe’s fingers found their way down her belly and were soon delving between her legs. “Shit, Finn!” he cried softly, lifting his head from Rey’s breast to look at his partner. “She’s so fucking wet!”

Rey watched as Finn brought his hand down to join Poe’s, and she almost began crying as they both fingered her, touching her where nobody but herself had ever been. “Oh, please!” she cried, tears leaking from her eyes.

“I want to taste!” Finn said, his voice rough. “If she tastes half as good as she smells…”

“Rey?” Poe was looking at her, one eyebrow arched. Asking for permission. At this point, she was quite sure she would deny him nothing.

“Please! Yes, please!”

Both men smiled and glanced at each other before sliding down the sheets. Rey automatically lifted her legs, spreading them wide, and they easily slipped underneath, placing her ankles on their shoulders, holding her open.

“Fuck, Poe! Look at her!”

“She’s dripping! All for us, Finn!”

Rey cried out, arching her hips up toward them, her heels digging into their shoulders, uncaring how desperate she seemed.

They heeded her unspoken request and dropped their heads, lips and tongues and teeth attacking her center. Her inner thighs, the super sensitive area between the crease of her thigh and the edge of her pussy, the lips of her pussy, her clit. They never stilled, working her over as she never, ever dreamed she would enjoy. As Finn toyed with her clit with his tongue, Poe inserted a finger into her cunt. She rocked against it, shocked how much she loved the intrusion and how much she wanted more. Soon, another thick finger joined the first, and Finn began sucking gently on her clit. She felt her body quicken shockingly fast, and the explosion took her by surprise. Her vision flashed white and she screamed, her hands coming down on top of the heads of her tormentors. She gripped Poe’s thick hair and her fingers tightened along the curved braids along Finn’s skull.

She felt her body go limp and she dropped her hands, opening her eyes to see both men smiling at her, almost giddy. “Told ya,” Poe said smugly.

Rey laughed, her body still trembling.

Poe turned to Finn and the two kissed, sharing her juices between them. Rey moaned at the sight, shocked that she could get so turned on again so fast. Poe pulled back first. “Keep her wet down here,” he told Finn. “I’m going in.”

Finn grinned. “Yes, sir.” Rey shifted, hoping she was ready for whatever Poe had planned. It was apparent as she watched them together that while she suspected Finn topped when they had sex, Poe was still in charge. She had to admit, she liked having him in charge.

He slid up to lie next to her again, then gently pulled her right arm upwards. “Lay on your side,” he said softly. As she did so, he positioned himself behind her and then reached down to pull her right leg up. She didn’t resist, but then whimpered as Finn immediately dived in to start licking her wide open pussy once more. “We want you wet and loose,” Poe whispered in her ear. He nipped her lobe, which sent a whole new batch of shivers up her spine. “No pain today. Not if I can help it.” As he spoke, he let her leg down to rest over his hip and he used his hand to direct his cock up to her weeping hole.

She felt him slide inside with no resistance whatsoever, the pressure was intense and amazing. “Oh, my Force!” she cried. “Oh, yes!” She felt Poe smile against the back of her jaw where his face was resting, and then his hips were moving. Back and forth he moved, sliding in and out of her. Finn continued to tongue her clit and she closed her eyes, so absorbed by the pleasure she was feeling that she felt as if she were floating.

“Oh Kriff!” she heard Finn mutter.

“Stay with us, Rey,” Poe growled in her ear.

She opened her eyes and realized she was floating. Not very high, but high enough her boys were having a tough time finishing what they started. She gasped a laugh and dropped back to the bed. “Sorry,” she huffed.

Poe chuckled, and she could feel it as well as hear it with his chest pressed against her back once more. “I’m taking it as a compliment. How about you, Finn?”

“Hell, yeah,” her best friend uttered as he continued his ministrations between her legs.

Poe’s thrusts got a bit harder and Rey could feel her body climbing once more, this time a little slower. But not much. She reached for her release this time, knowing exactly what awaited her and craving it. Her body spasmed even harder, and Poe’s arm tightened around her middle, holding her close to him until she came back to herself. It was an amazing, comforting feeling. She brought up her right hand to lace her fingers with his where they rested on her belly. She used her other hand to push gently on Finn’s head, asking him to stop, as Poe slid out of her.

Finn moved up again so that they lay face to face, and she smiled softly at him. He stroked her cheek gently, then moved in to kiss her. He tasted salty and a bit sweet. He tasted of her.

They lay there together for a long moment, letting Rey rest, but soon she became aware of Poe’s still hard cock poking her buttock, and Finn’s was bobbing gently between them. She looked him in the eye. “I want you, now.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, his dark eyes gentle but excited. She felt another gush of wetness between her legs at his husky voice.

“Oh, yes.”

Immediately, Poe moved away from her, gently pushing on her shoulder so that she once more lay on her back. Finn moved to Rey, his muscular body seeming huge as he kneeled between her legs and lowered himself over her. He settled on his elbows as Poe demanded softly, “Lift your knees, Rey.”

She did as asked, and felt the tip of Finn’s cock brush up against her clit. She arched up and cried out.

“You want me inside you?” Finn asked, his voice rough, his jaw tight.

“Yes!” she almost shouted. “Please, Finn!”

“Listen to your Jedi Master, Finn,” Poe grumbled, his expression almost wild.

Finn groaned and used his hand to aid in his entrance, then he slid in just as easily as Poe had. Instinctively, Rey brought her legs up further so she could wrap her ankles around his thighs as he began to thrust. She gasped and threw her head back on the pillow, closing her eyes. How did she never know how good this could be?

She opened her eyes to see Poe’s face next to hers. “You like that?” he asked, his eyes dark, his pupils dilated in excitement. “You like Finn fucking you?”

“Yes!” she groaned, then reached for him, grabbing him by the back of the head and pulling him down for a kiss. He devoured her mouth as Finn started thrusting harder. Rey once more felt her body ignite and knew what was coming. She pulled back, shouting “Yes!” into Poe’s mouth.

“Come again, Sunshine!” Poe demanded. “Come again for us!”

And she did.

******

Poe was the one who got up to get them some water a short time later.

She watched as he walked naked across the room, his penis still erect, the head red and weeping. She looked down at Finn’s cock as she sat up, realizing that he was still hard, too. As Poe brought back a large glass of water, Rey looked back and forth between them. “Are you..” She cleared her throat. “Are you going to… come?”

Poe just smiled at her as he sat on the edge of the bed, handing her the water. “Well, I would like to at some point,” he said, his voice teasing. “I’m sure Finn would, too.” Finn nodded his head vigorously. “I guess the question is where do you want us to come? On you, on each other, or in you?”

“In me!” Rey exclaimed without hesitation, then she looked down, embarrassed, as she took a sip of water.

Poe’s smile just got bigger. “I was hoping you’d say that. You’re up to date on your contraception shots, I assume?”

Rey nodded, looking up at him again, then looking at Finn as she handed him the glass.

Finn grinned as he accepted the water. “It’s gonna get messy,” he said, waggling his eyebrows.

“It’s already messy,” Poe argued. “Have you seen what this woman is doing to our bed?”

Rey reached over and slapped his chest lightly with the back of her hand. “And whose fault is that?”

The three of them laughed as they passed the glass around, finishing the water. Rey noticed that their erections had softened a bit during their rest, but Poe had a solution for that.

He lay on his back and patted his thighs. “Ride me, Rey,” he told her.

She straddled his thighs and watched as Finn sidled up next to them, laying half on his side facing them. He and Poe kissed before Poe looked at Rey once more. “Take us both in hand,” he said. “You’ve got two of them for a reason.”

Rey giggled and rolled her eyes. “Very funny,” she said as she took him in her left hand and Finn in her right. She began to slide her hands up and down their cocks, her breathing quickening once more. She could feel them get stiffer in her hands, and she was not surprised when her body responded with even more moisture.

“There you go, Sunshine,” Poe said softly. She was already dripping on his thigh. “Now, when you’re ready, mount me.”

She nodded, let go of Finn, then shuffled forward and up, slowly impaling herself on Poe’s cock. “Mmmmmm,” she moaned. This position was different, but felt just as good.

“Good girl,” Poe said, and Rey felt her breath catch.

“Hmmm, she likes that,” Finn growled. They had both noticed her reaction to Poe’s praise.

Poe grinned. “Just like you like being told what a good boy you are?”

Rey looked at Finn who looked moderately embarrassed. He sat up a bit and leaned toward her. “I guess we’re both lucky we found our Dom, huh, Rey?”

Rey nodded, not really wanting to contemplate the fact that she liked being told what to do. But only by Poe.

“So, does that mean you’re going to keep doing what I tell you, Rey?” Poe asked, one eyebrow raised.

Remembering what Finn had said to him earlier, Rey bobbed her head. “Yes, sir.”

Poe nodded, then shifted his hips, making Rey gasp. “That’s my girl,” he whispered. “Now, lean over and put Finn’s cock in your mouth.”

Rey’s eyes immediately turned to the cock in question, then she looked upward to see Finn, an excited look on his face, lay back down, scooching up a bit so she had easier access to him. Licking her lips, she grabbed his once more fully erect penis and bent over it. Carefully, she wrapped her lips around the large head, curiosity and desire driving her on. Poe was rocking his hips up into her steadily, and as she tasted Finn for the first time, she felt another wave of immense pleasure wash over her. She began to rock her own hips to meet Poe’s thrusts and matched the movement with her hand on the base of Finn’s cock, squeezing him as she sucked on his tip.

“Oh, fuck, yeah,” she heard Finn groan, and she looked up to see him lean over and kiss Poe. “This is a kriffing dream come true,” he said, breathing hard against Poe’s mouth.

Poe groaned and closed his eyes. “If this is a dream, I don’t ever want to wake up!”

His hips increased their pace and Rey couldn’t concentrate on Finn anymore. She sat up, her hands on Poe’s belly, rocking against him, seeking that amazing high she knew existed now. She reached for Finn’s cock again, trying hard to focus on him as well as her own pleasure, but the feelings were too intense. “Oh!” she cried. This felt different. Less like an explosion and more like a tidal wave. Her thighs started to tremor uncontrollably and she felt as if she was falling. “Finn!” she cried as she reached for him.

He sat up and pulled her into his arms. “Let go!” he told her. She did, letting the wave take over and crying out into Finn’s shoulder. She looked at Poe as she slowly came down, wondering if he had felt the same intensity she had.

He was looking at her with wide eyes. “You are so fucking beautiful,” he said gruffly.

She started to back off of him, only to realize he was still hard. “Poe,” she said as Finn let her go. “You didn’t come.”

He smiled. “I will, Sunshine,” he told her. “But I want Finn to claim you first.”

Finn’s expression was startled. “Poe?”

“You found her first,” Poe said with a soft smile. He pushed back and sat up. “But you better hurry. I’m not going to wait for my turn forever.” He gripped his cock, running his thumb over the tip and the bead of precum that sat there.

Finn looked at Rey. “Okay.”

Rey nodded. “Okay.” She bit her lip. “How..?”

“Can I..?”

“Oh, just take her from behind,” Poe interrupted. “You know you want to.”

Rey grinned at Poe’s outburst, then she softened her smile for Finn before turning her back on him, spreading her legs and leaning down to brace herself off of her elbows. She looked back at him over her shoulder. “Come on, General. Give it to me.”

As Finn groaned, Poe shook his head. “Oh, Kriff! We created a monster.” He shoved Finn’s shoulder. “Hurry up and fuck her!”

Finn did as told, moving up behind Rey and pushing into her in one smooth motion. Rey gasped, once again startled and pleased all at the same time by the different feel these different positions gave her. He was so deep like this. And he was so hard!

“I’m not gonna last long,” he huffed as he began to thrust.

Rey couldn’t form any words as the slap of his hips against her ass got louder and faster. Kriff! She wasn’t, either! His hands gripped her hard, his fingers biting into the flesh of her waist. He moved one, placing it flat against her back in between her shoulder blades, but he didn’t put much pressure on her. It was almost as if he was bracing himself, so he wouldn’t fall over onto her. Her fingers gripped the bedsheets tight.

“I’m coming. I’m coming. I’m coming,” he began to chant.

“Give it to her, baby!” Poe growled.

Poe’s exclamation was all it took for Rey to feel her body overload once more. It wasn’t as strong as before, but it felt amazing, especially when combined with the feel of Finn’s release inside of her. She could almost imagine his hot seed coating her insides. As she suspected, he fell onto her, but not heavily, catching himself before his full weight came upon her. He kissed her shoulder blade wetly, then turned to Poe, who was laughing joyfully. They kissed, then Poe leaned down to kiss her as well. “I can’t even explain to you how beautiful you two look together,” he said, his eyes huge.

Finn backed up, pulling out and pushing himself up to the head of the bed, falling back onto the pillows. “Your turn, General.”

Poe looked at him, then looked at Rey. For the first time that night, there seemed to be some uncertainty in his expression, and Rey remembered that they had not asked her if she wanted this sooner because Poe believed Rey didn’t love him the way she loved Finn. She smiled and turned over onto her back, keeping eye contact with him. She spread her legs wide, grasping herself under the knees, holding herself open.

“Your turn, General,” she repeated Finn’s words.

His chest heaving, his cock now rock hard, he moved to kneel between her thighs. He placed his hands gently under her knees, pushing hers away, holding her open himself now. Still looking her in the eye, he moved forward and slid into her without any assistance. Rey was super sensitive now after literally being fucked over and over again by these men and coming… five times now? But she wanted this. She wanted him. All of him.

“You feeling my cum in there, Poe?” Finn said with a grin. “Got’cha a little extra lube this time. Not that you need it with how much she wants you.” His voice had gotten deep and lazy as Poe started driving in and out of Rey. Long, slow thrusts. Finn’s words combined with Poe’s intense look was too much!

Rey threw her head back. “Oh, please! Fuck me! Give it to me!”

With a soft roar, Poe obeyed and began thrusting hard. The slap of their skin, the squelching sound of his entry into her now saturated pussy, the grunts as he worked his hips into her… “Ahhhhhh! Poe!” Rey screamed, coming hard, her body spasming. She reached for Finn and he grabbed her hand, hanging on tight.

Poe’s body seized up as he began to fill her with his seed, his hips pulsing a few more times as he emptied himself. Rey fell limp. She let go of Finn’s hand and brought both of hers up to her face, rubbing against her eyes as she felt the tears come, overwhelmed.

She felt Poe slowly back out of her, but his fingers were up against her pussy immediately. “None of that!” he said huskily. “You stay in there were you belong,” he said as he pushed into her sensitive hole. He was pushing his and Finn’s combined cum back into her. Finn moved to help him and the two grinned at each other, kissing as they fondled her sore pussy gently. She giggled, knowing they were intentionally making her laugh, doing their best to keep her from becoming too emotional.

They looked at her, and their expressions made her want to cry again. It was a combination of love and awe, and she knew exactly how they felt.

Poe cleared his throat. “Come on,” he told her, moving to help her sit up and move back up to the head of the bed. Finn jumped off and headed for the ‘fresher, bringing back a couple of wet washcloths. Together, they cleaned up Rey and each other before settling on either side of her.

Rey was so, so tired, but even as sated as she was, she couldn’t help wondering if they expected her to leave and go back to her own apartment for the rest of the night. Force knows she didn’t want to.

As if he was reading her mind, Poe’s voice broke the silence.

“Move in here with us, Rey.”

For a moment, Rey truly believed she was imagining things, that her hopes and wishes were just manifesting themselves through dreams.

“You don’t have to,” Poe continued, his voice nervous now. “I mean, you’re used to living alone. Having your own space. I get it.”

Rey lifted her head and looked at Finn. “Do you want me to move in?”

He smiled and touched her cheek. “Yeah. But we’re not going to pressure you. We know it will probably cause a lot of gossip if you do.”

She scoffed. “As if I’m not already the brunt of gossip around here. Besides, we won’t be here much longer.” She looked at Poe. “Right? We’re still going to Yavin IV when things here are settled?”

Poe blinked quickly, and Rey could see the tears in his eyes. “Yeah, Sunshine. As soon as we can.”

“Yes,” she whispered. “Yes, I’ll move in with you.”

“I love you, Rey,” he said softly.

She reached up and ran her hand along his beard stubble. “I love you, Poe.” She turned to Finn. “And you, Finn. You both mean so much to me.”

“I love you, Rey,” Finn told her, his eyes shining now. He looked up and over her head at Poe. “And I love you, Moof Milker.”

Poe leaned over Rey and pushed his hand into Finn’s face. “I love you, too, Fart Face!”

Rey started giggling madly as she started tickling Poe.

He jerked back. “Hey! No fair!” He started tickling her back. Finn joined in and they wrestled with each other for a moment, but exhaustion soon overtook them all.

Curled up between her boys, it didn’t take long for Rey to fall asleep, knowing that whatever the future threw at her, she had finally found her happily ever after.

THE END

[tgmsunmontue]

It's all academic darlin' PART 9/10

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

Part 7 and 8 are Explicit. And nothing else makes sense without the first six parts but you do you!

PART NINE

            Jake goes through the next few minutes in a haze as he finishes the washing up and watches Bradley hug Admiral Kazansky good bye, telling him they’ll see him tomorrow. He’s told it was very nice to meet him and Jake returns the sentiment, meaning it wholeheartedly. Still difficult to think of the COMPACFLT as someone who makes amazing waffles and likes Star Wars, but he imagines he’ll get there. Bradley leans into his space, hooks fingers into the loops on his jeans and grins at him.

            “So. You survived.”

            “Yeah, he’s actually pretty cool.”

            “Well yeah, he’s… he was the steady presence for me. The one I felt like I could always call up and get advice. Proper advice. Not Mav’s just do it attitude, deal with the consequences later approach… It works for him but I’ve always been a little more careful.”

            “Risk averse?”

            “Not really, but definitely always wanted to weigh things up before committing properly.”

            Jake hums, because he’s wondering if he’s reading too much into that statement, that Bradley is saying something about not wanting to risk committing being with him. He doesn’t think so. It goes against everything Bradley has said and done in the last twenty-four hours but he can’t help the little niggle of doubt.

            “So… He gave you permission to tell your friends.”

            “You were listening huh?”

            “Of course I was. Ice knows I always listen in. More difficult to do when he’s only using ASL though. He’d have used pen and paper if he really didn’t want me to know.”

            “I’ll add it to my pile of stuff to learn…

            “You’re going to learn ASL?”

            “Well, I want to be able to understand whatever you guys are saying to each other. I mean, I thought this sign was pretty obvious,” he makes the two-handed gesture he had thought meant blowjob and Bradley snorts, rests his forehead on Jake’s shoulder and his laugh is gentle and quiet and he never wants this feeling of rightness to end.

            “Oh no, that’s totally the sign for what you think it is. Blow job.”

            “What?!”

            “It was a comment I made months ago, when Mav was telling me about you. About how you disobeyed orders and saved his life…”

            Jake can’t believe that Mav just talks about fucking top-secret missions. Obviously he’s assuming Bradley isn’t sharing it with anyone who doesn’t already know, but how the fuck has Admiral Kazansky not murdered Maverick yet?

            “How the fuck does Kazansky say anything at home?”

            “Well, he doesn’t,” Bradley says and Jake groans at the bad joke.

            “Shut up! You know what I mean!”

            Bradley laughs, shakes his head and shifts his hands from the belt loops to hook his hands behind Jake, pulling him close. He shoves his hands into the back pockets of Bradley’s jeans, needs somewhere to put them to stop feeling awkward.

            “Anyway, Mav told me about you saving his life and I jokingly asked him if he’d wanted me to give you a thank you blow job. You know he kept sending me things to do at the cabin, like he was trying to make me stick around until you got there. He likes to think he’s sneaky but he’s like a sheet of glass.”

            “So what, you’re with me because you’re grateful?”

            “Nope. Don’t get me wrong, I am grateful, Mav is pretty fucking important to me. But I’m not with you because of that. You’re funny and intelligent and you aren’t intimidated by me or my career. That’s a pretty fucking amazing trifecta right there,” Bradley says, and he’s completely serious now, his eyes intent on Jake’s face like he really wants to press home how much he believes what he’s saying and Jake shifts uncomfortably, not used to being the subject of such an intense gaze.

            “And then… and then, on top of that, my dad, Mav, already likes you. Tomorrow night he was going to try and set me up with you a third time. And Ice? He thinks you’re hilarious. That you’ll, and I quote, fit in with our crazy family without even trying, end quote. I’ve adlibbed a bit. Anyway, those are five things which I find are pretty important. I usually don’t have the Mav and Ice approval so early on… Jesus Jake. Do you have any idea how amazing I think you are?”

            Jake swallows, throat tight and he shakes his head a little, because no, he didn’t think Bradley thought anything like that about him. Not like that.

            “And then there are the sprinkles and cherry, which are you getting on with my friends, maybe a little too well to be honest. And all of this? Wrapped up in something that looks like you do… it’s like hitting the jackpot.”

            “Oh.”

            “Too much?”

            “Maybe a little?” Jake says, unsure as he sucks in a shaky breath.

            “Okay… so what did you want to do today? We’ve got all afternoon and all night…”

            “Whatever will we do to entertain ourselves.”

            “I’ve got some ideas.”

…         …         …

            Bradley doesn’t know exactly where Jake’s insecurities come from, but the lack of him talking about his parents makes him wonder. Jake hasn’t said they were dead, only mentioned his brother and sister when they’d emailed about family. Jake is confident, cocky and a touch arrogant like every naval aviator Bradley has ever met. It hasn’t seemed to bleed into his relationships though, not if he’s never really had one. And maybe that’s the telling part. It’s okay, he can work with that. Finds himself willing to work with it, when Jake is just… leaving himself so open like this.

            They make out against the kitchen bench for a little while, there’s no sense of urgency for him. Not when he’s had more orgasms in the last twenty-four hours than he’s had the entire week prior. Still, there’s a low buzzing thrum of arousal in his body and he’s pretty sure that it will just become his natural state when Jake is nearby. Another thing he’s willing to work with.

            “So, are you going to tell them?” Bradley asks, because he’s insanely curious and part of him wants all of Mav’s usual machinations to be ruined just so he can see the look on his face for once.

            “Who? Oh, the other Daggers coming tomorrow? Yeah. Probably. Think I’d like to introduce you to Javy if that’s okay?”

            “Yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t it be? You met most of my friends last night.”

            “Javy is my best friend.”

            “Okay…?”

            “He’s definitely going to want to meet you…”

            “You want to have him around, cook dinner?”

            “No. I don’t want to spend time cooking for them when I’m still getting to know you.”

            “You’re secretly the sweetest, you know that?”

            Jake looks embarrassed, doesn’t meet his eye and Bradley kisses him again, slow and gentle, tries to reassure with every press of his lips. Then Jake is pulling back, eyes wide and he’d be worried except Jake looks delighted.

            “Oh my god… I can fuck with him. I can fuck with him so bad.”

            “What? Who?”

            “Javy… this is like a triple blind.”

            “What do you mean?”

            “He knows I’ve been emailing this professor. He probably isn’t picturing someone like you, when you think professor.”

            Bradley’s takes that for the compliment he assumes is there somewhere, grins and nods encouragement.

            “So I let him meet you, and he’s not going to expect you at all… then… do you have a photo album or something?”

            “No, Mav’s got most of them. I’ve got a couple of pictures somewhere. What do you want exactly?”

            “Picture of you and Mav…”

            “Oh… what, you going to bring him back and introduce me and then just hope he stumble across a photo album picture of me and Mav?”

            “Well, when you put it like that…”

            “Nah, I think I can think of something. Put some on the fridge maybe? I’ve got a graduation photo as well somewhere. I hide it because Kezia gives me shit about how young I look.”

            “Yeah… do you mind?”

            Bradley grins and shakes his head, is pretty sure Jake is now feeling the same glee he had when he realized he could maybe get Mav.

            “I’ve got to ring him, stupid asshole, trying to hide the fact that he’s in North Island…”

            Bradley pulls away slightly, clearly isn’t allowed to go to far as Jake refuses to remove a hand from his back pocket, tugs him close as he presses call on his phone and waits for his friend to answer.

            “Hey man, how’s it going?”

            “Hey. I’m good. And I have a bone to pick with you. You’re in North Island.”

            “How the fuck did you find that out? It was meant to be a surprise!”

            “A little bird told me…” Jake looks at Bradley then and he laughs silently, little bird indeed. Standing so close he can hear everything, especially with how Jake is angling the phone.

            “Who?”

            “Not important. Anyway, I wanted to talk about something. You know that guy I was emailing?”

            “Who? The professor guy?”

            “Yeah. Him.”

            “Ooohhh… you hot for teacher?”

            “Yeah. I am actually.”

            “Holy shit! Really? He’s not like old as fuck and walking around with a zimmer frame?”

            “No, no zimmer frame in sight.”

            Bradley laughs silently again, is a little horrified that maybe Jake at any stage thought that maybe Bradley was that old, but listens as Jake arranges to meet Javy for an early dinner in a few hours at one of the burger bars downtown. He hangs up and then kisses Bradley firmly.

            “Man this is going to be fun. I see why the Admiral is so excited about tricking Mav now… and why Mav must enjoy doing it to people.”

            “Do not encourage him. He doesn’t need encouragement okay?”

            “Yeah yeah… okay. Fuck. I’m sorry. I should have checked. Are you okay with me going out to dinner?”

            “Of course… I’m not your keeper or anything.”

            “But we’ve only just… met. I don’t want you to think that he’s more important –”

            “Jake. He’s your best friend. Has been your best friend for years. Someone who you also haven’t seen in over seven months I’m betting. He’s more important. I don’t mind at all.”

            He really doesn’t, the fact that Jake had immediately wanted to arrange to see his best friend, even if he’s using the excuse to fuck with him, tells him more than Jake probably realizes. That’s he’s loyal, and places importance on his relationships in equal measure. It’s a good sign. He can’t handle being the only person in anyone’s life, learnt that one early on.

            “Well, I know you have work to do. Don’t pretend you don’t… you were complaining about it in your last email.”

            “Yeah, but you’re here…”

            “I am here right now. And I’ll be back later. Consider it an incentive to get as much work done while I’m gone as you can…”

            “Yeah okay, I’ve always been pretty focused with the right motivation…”

            “Good to hear. You know what I want to do right now?” Jake asks, and both his hands are back on Bradley’s ass, gripping him through his pockets.

            “What?” Bradley asks, letting himself grind up against Jake with clear interest.

            “I want to fuck you.”

            “You going to ask nicely?”

            “Bradley, please, let me fuck you. I want to get my mouth on you, my fingers inside, stretch you open for my cock, then I want to fuck you and leave those marks all over your chest you asked for and want to see if you’ll beg me to touch your cock, or if you can come without that…”

            “Yeah… that’s pretty nice…”

…         …         …

            Jake leans down, latches his mouth on the sensitive nipples he’d discovered last night and sucks. Bradley’s cock jerks between them, a spurt of precum dripping from the head.

            “How are you so hot?”

            “Good genes…” Jake snorts, licks his way across Bradley’s chest.

            “You sure about these marks? You know I’m not a horny teenager unable to control myself…”

            “Channel your inner teenager, go to town okay? I want to look absolutely wrecked.”

            “This better not fucking backfire…” Jake mutters, because while he’s not generally a guy that gets off on leaving marks, it isn’t exactly a hardship to suck at Bradley’s body when he responds so beautifully, because him enjoying it is something that will get him off.

            “Trust me…”

            Jake can’t believe it, but he does, he really does. He thrusts forward, not quite getting the leverage he’d usually have considering he’s trying to mark Bradley up as much as humanely possible with his mouth.

            “You can leave more later, please, just fuck me… come on.”

            “Okay.”

            He lets himself focus on drawing back before snapping his hips forward, watching Bradley’s face carefully to gauge whether that’s okay. The way his eyes fall shut the same time his mouth gasps open he’s going to take it as a winner and he does it again again again, feeling his own orgasm coiling up in his gut. He can see a half-dozen bite marks starting to darken across Bradley’s chest and collar bone, feels an unexpected thrill. Inner teenager indeed.

            Bradley isn’t making any move to touch himself and he wonders if he needs or wants Jake’s hand on him, whether he’s holding back for some reason Jake’s not aware of. Bradley’s hands are all over Jake’s body instead, running over his chest, down his arms, digging into his shoulders and he’s getting close, wants to touch Bradley now but also wants to know what exactly might tip him over the edge. He has a hunch. He adjusts slightly, mostly maintaining his pace and then he scrapes a blunt nail across Bradley’s left nipple and bloody fucking hell. He almost jackknives up and headbutts Jake in the face, though the loud whine he makes has Jake doing in again; ready this time for the entire-body jerk and he presses down with more force, captures Bradley’s mouth in a hard kiss.

            Then he shifts again, sucks the same nipple into his mouth and yeah, Bradley’s coming, his voice making broken sounds that have Jake’s name mixed in and he licks one more time, savors the full body spasm that Bradley gives and then he fucks into him a few more times, watching Bradley as he lies almost catatonic beneath him, and Jake has never felt so fucking smug before in his life. Yeah. This is fucking amazing.

            Later, post showers, music playing in the background, they sit on the sofa, Bradley reading through essays he’s marking, constantly muttering under his breath and Jake can’t help but smile to himself every time Bradley grumbles and taps away, clearly making comments. Jake’s replied to some emails and is now reading the manual for one of the aircraft he’s going to be asked to inspect as part of his interview for the test pilot position, and he feels quietly comfortable. He makes a few notes, wonders if he could ask Mav some questions and guesses he can likely ask Mav many things now.

            He gets up and uses the bathroom, comes back through to the kitchen for a glass of water and sees there is already a new photo on the fridge and it’s Bradley as a toddler, with an incredibly young-looking Mav grinning at him. There’s a couple and he recognizes Nick Bradshaw from the Navy database photo. The woman must be Bradley’s mom. She has the same easy smile and a little part of him aches for the fact that he’ll never meet them but Bradley will never meet his own parents either so it doesn’t make him feel bad enough to dwell on it.

            He’s a bit peckish so he raids the fridge and cupboards, prepares a plate of cheese and crackers along with some apple slices and grapes; things that can be eaten one handed. He brings it back to the sofa, kicks at Bradley’s feet and passes him a glass of water, leaning down to give him a kiss before going back to his reading.

            “Thanks…”

            “I’ve got a vested interest in making sure your energy levels stay up.”

            “Yeah you do…”

            They grin at each other but lapse back into doing their own thing.

…         …         …

            He has no idea how he lost time so quickly, or how he quite got through so much marking. Definite motivation he guesses, glancing at Jake. At least that’s what he’s going to put it down to. Jake bringing him snacks has let him keep his momentum, rather than get distracted and it’s kind of nice to have someone else just showing that extra consideration. He hadn’t expected it and it makes him feel a little unprepared for just how easily Jake had just simply thought of him and what he might need.

            “Hey, I’m going to go, I’ll see you in a bit okay? I’ll bring you back dessert…”

            “Mmm… look forward to it.” Bradley says, deliberately misconstruing his meaning and running his eyes down Jake’s body meaningfully. Gets a playful shove in response and he laughs.

            “I meant ice cream, but sure, you can have me too…”

            “Wait, you want to take my car? And take the spare key.”

            “Uh… what?”

            “Take my spare keys. They’re on a hook behind the door. It’s not like I’m going anywhere. Then you don’t have to book a Lyft or be buzzed in, or knock on the door. That okay?”

            “Yeah. Okay. Yeah.”

            “Good.”

            “That made my brain go offline…”

            “More than the idea of me wanting to eat you for dessert? Clearly not doing a proper job of it.”

            “Fuck Bradley…”

            “Yeah, we’re pretty good at that…”

            “Oh my god, stop already. I’ve got to get going,” Jake mutters, but he still looks pleased, and definitely less spooked than he did mere moments before. “I’ll stop in at the grocery store on my way back. I’m bringing Javy back to meet you remember? So don’t strip yourself naked and wait for me on the bed. Do more work and I’ll see you later. Don’t forget to eat something more than cheese and crackers. You need anything for these brownies we’re apparently taking tomorrow?”

            “Oh. Dark chocolate. I like the idea of being naked and waiting for you in bed… we’ll have to explore that later.”

            Jake grins, gives him another kiss, firmer this time and Bradley presses into it.

            “I’ll pick up the chocolate.”

            “Thanks. Enjoy dinner with Javy…”

            “Will do.”

…         …         …

            He walks into the bar and spots Javy easily. He hadn’t expected for them to be joined by Trace and Floyd but there they are, all chatting with each other and dressed in civvies, and he slides into the spare seat at the table, greets them all.

            “You don’t seem surprised. Did the little bird tell you that they were here too?”

            “Yep. Dinner tomorrow night.”

            “Huh. I want to know who this birdy is… Mav?”

            “He’s really shit at keeping secrets sometimes,” Jake provides, thinking about Mav’s whole secret relationship with the Admiral, but then not stopping to think about sharing mission critical information with Bradley. Or Jake’s own medical history. The fact that he hadn’t exactly told Jake that they were in town, and Bradley had just let him overhear is something he won’t ever be admitting to.

            “How are you two?” Jake asks, because unlike Javy who he’s emailed a couple of times a week since they went on their first deployments in different directions, he doesn’t keep in regular contact with either of them, just the standard group chat that the Dagger Squad have which goes through peaks and troughs of communication. They talk about superficial things for a while, take in the ambience of the burger joint and place their order with the waitstaff.

            “Any particular reason we’re eating so early?”

            “I had a late breakfast so needed an early dinner.”

            “A late breakfast huh? Were you busy in bed?” Javy asks, grinning and leaning back, knowing he’s just let the cat out amongst the pigeons and Jake doesn’t care, because he’s going to get them all and he’s going to enjoy every fucking minute. Phoenix and Bob both look between him and Javy, expressions only mildly interested.

            “Yep. Sure was. Had someone special cook for me as well…”

            “Jake’s been emailing this professor guy, getting all hot and bothered via email!”

            “God, shut up…”

            “I’m not saying anything untrue!”

            “Well, we’re not emailing anymore, I met him yesterday. Properly,” he adds, thinking back to over ten months ago when he’d first met Bradley at the cabin.

            “Yeah? What’s he like?”

            “He’s great. He’s smart, and funny and understands being in the Navy pretty well for a civilian. We went rock climbing with his friends last night… I was going to ask if you wanted to meet him,” Jake says, looking at Javy, because he’ll know how significant that is. He’s never introduced anyone to Javy before.

            “Oh holy shit. You’re serious?”

            “Yeah. It’s pretty serious.”

            “Wow…” Javy says and Jake’s pretty sure he’s at a loss for what to say.

            “You got a picture or anything?”

            “Uh, no…” He doesn’t want to say they’ve been a bit busy to take selfies, although he will definitely want some photos next time he’s away from Bradley. Fuck. Bradley’s going to need a better phone with a decent camera and Jake can’t trust him with that. They’re going to have to figure out something though.

            “Look at that blush!”

            “Too busy with other things huh?”

            “Shut up. You want to meet him or not?”

            “Hell yes! I’m picking if he’s into rock climbing he’s not in his eighties.”

            “He’s a couple years older than me, and he can definitely keep up with me…” Jake says, and he realizes then that Bradley likely grew up training with Mav and being expected to go on runs with him and likes to exercise, rather than needing to do it as a requirement for his job like Jake needs to do.

            “And I’m sure you’ve tested that out…”

            “Yes, several times in fact,” Jake grins back, feeling pretty smug.

            “That invitation to meet him open to all of us?” Phoenix asks and Jake shrugs, like he doesn’t care either way, knows if he plays it too keen they’ll get suspicious.

            “Yeah, sure. Come and meet him. He already said he wants to meet Javy.”

            “Really?”

            “Yeah, he’s heard a lot about you…”

            Javy’s eyebrow goes up at that, and Jake grins, because he’s referring to Bradley’s comment about Mav talking about all the Dagger Squad. Bradley’s likely to have an idea of each of them through whatever Maverick thinks of them, which is a little humbling because from what Bradley has implied Mav seems to think Jake is somehow someone worthy of his respect. And time. Someone he thinks is good enough for Bradley to be with, and he finds that to be a pretty huge commendation on what Mav thinks of him.

            Their food arrives and he flicks a quick message to Bradley, no idea if he will even check it before Jake gets back to the apartment. Their conversation turns to work, talking about different aspects of training they’re each carrying out in different parts and he mentions he’s applied for the test pilot position at Fallon on Mav’s recommendation. Phoenix is taking an instructor role at Top Gun for the next two years, while Javy and Bob are slated to do training of new pilots at Pensacola for eighteen months. Jake doesn’t have any current orders, having only returned from a seven-month deployment at sea, but he’s hoping he’s at least going to be land-bound for the next little while even if he doesn’t get the test pilot position.

            “Okay, I need to go to the grocery store on the way back. I’m just getting some ice cream and chocolate. I’ll meet you guys outside the apartment building,” Jake says, giving them the address and watching them all plug it into the map app on their phones.

            “Can you get Moose Tracks?”

            “Who said the ice cream was for you?”

            “You mean you’re getting ice cream and chocolate and not going to share it with us?”

            “The chocolate is for the brownies we’re making for dinner tomorrow, not for eating.”

            “Just buy more chocolate.”

            “Wait. Is he coming to dinner tomorrow night?”

            Jake freezes, and shakes his head, thinks frantically.

            “Uh no, of course not. I’m just bringing some brownies for tomorrow. Bradley’s a really good cook…”

            “I was going to say, inviting the guy to Mav’s for dinner seems a little rude.”

            Jake laughs, wonders if they can here how crazy he’s feeling. This subterfuge shit is harder than he thought. God he needs to get back to the apartment.

            “I’ll see you guys there! Bye!”

…         …         …

            They’re waiting for him outside and he’s glad he didn’t tell them the apartment number. Wouldn’t have put it past them to buzz Bradley and ambush him before Jake got back. Javy is looking at the keys in his hand with a raised eyebrow and Jake simply makes a what would you have me do face. He’s aware he’s falling hard and fast, but he also feels like Bradley’s a giant safety net ready to catch him. He opens the apartment door, trying to be a little noisy to give Bradley some warning, because his five phone messages have all gone unanswered and he wonders if it’s finally death-knell time for his current phone. For all he knows ten months might be a personal record.

            “Hi…” Bradley says, appearing in the doorway to the hall and he’s clearly had a shower and changed, no longer wearing the tank and sweats he’d lounged around in most of the day. Instead he’s in jeans and a dark blue Henley, looking all sorts of delectable and Jake gives him an approving smirk and gets an eyeroll back in return, it’s accompanied with a grin though and yeah, he’s falling and falling, doesn’t want to stop.

            “Hey. Uh. These two were there as well.”

            “Okay,” Bradley says, walking over and holding out a hand to shake, starting with Javy and he bites back a comment about making Mav proud with his manners.

            “Bradley, this is Javy Machado, Natasha Trace and Bob Floyd. Javy, Natasha and Bob, this is Bradley Bradshaw.”

            “Hey man, nice to meet you,” Javy says, shaking Bradley’s hand, and he’s definitely scrutinizing Bradley for asshole vibes and Jake can’t help but feel a deep swell of appreciation for his best friend. Yeah. He’s got his back. Bradley is shaking Natasha and Bob’s hands and then reaching for the grocery bag.

            “Let me take that and put it in the freezer… Wow. Did we really need four different flavors of ice cream?”

            “Well, I don’t know your favorite, so I got vanilla and chocolate, and then she wanted the Moose Tracks,” Jake says, pointing at Phoenix who looks suitably annoyed at being thrown under the proverbial bus. “And when I’m already getting three tubs of ice cream I figured I might as well round it out with strawberry. And I got fudge sauce…”

            “Fair argument. I prefer vanilla with fudge sauce, so top marks…” Bradley says, throwing him a wink and Jake flushes, because he knows Javy is going to take that as some sex role-play thing when it’s not, just a reference to their conversation yesterday. Fuck. Was it only yesterday?

            “Make yourselves at home, does anyone want tea or coffee? Bowls of ice cream? Or are we all wanting to forgo bowls and just eat directly from the tubs and enter sugar highs side-by-side?”

            He walks towards the kitchen and Phoenix and Bob follow him and he lets Javy tug him to the side a little.

            “He is not what I imagined.”

            “Nope. Pretty fucking hot right?”

            “I mean… I guess? I’m more impressed with the way he looks at you like he’d give you the world if you asked for it. I was worried that you were gone on this guy, but he seems pretty gone on you too, so… that’s good. You deserve a guy that wants to do everything for you.”

            Jake nods sharply, because he gets that. In theory. It’s nice to hear, even if hearing and feeling it so much in the last day has felt overwhelming, even if it has been positive. He glances up and Javy is looking at him like he understands, gives Jake a quick hug before heading to the kitchen to join the other two in getting ice cream. He glances around the living room and sees two new photo frames, Bradley’s graduation photo with Maverick set at about eye-level, and another frame set at about knee height, where the Admiral is in uniform with Bradley standing beside him, so there’s definitely no mistaking him and he grins.

            “Are you sure we haven’t met, you just look really familiar,” Phoenix is saying, like she’s trying to place him and Jake hides his grin. Wonders if Bradley knows Mav has a photo of him on his desk. An old photo, but still a photo.

            “Maybe I just have one of those faces?” Bradley suggests, catching Jake’s eye.

            They’ve clearly decided to start in on the ice cream, digging in and serving themselves up and using bowls; the kitchen isn’t big enough for five people, so he reaches to give Bradley a kiss across the counter and Bradley obliges by meeting him halfway. It feels so easy and the rollercoaster ride does a loop-de-loop again.

            “Jesus Bagman, did you become a vampire while you were deployed?”

            Jake looks to see what she’s talking about and Bradley’s Henley has pulled slightly, caught between the counter and his body as he stretched across to kiss him; revealing the highest of the marks Jake left and another a little lower. Bradley pulls back, tugging the Henley back into place and shrugs, clearly not embarrassed at all so Jake decides to follow his lead and just smirks at her eyeroll. Bob has headed out to inspect the bookshelves and Jake can feel the anticipation growing.

            “So, what do you do Bradley?”

            “I’m an engineer. A problem solver.”

            “Well, good thing you’re with the biggest problem we have then.”

            “Hey!” Jake objects, but they’re all laughing at him and he rolls his eyes, flicks them the middle finger, but Bradley is wrapping his arms around Jake’s waist and kissing his shoulder.

            “If you’re a problem then it’s the kind of problem I like to have…”

            The look Javy gives him is flat, like he thinks Jake is maybe an idiot for thinking that Bradley is somehow not into him. Or maybe Javy is the idiot, because there is no way that Jake is letting this go.

            “Hey Phoenix, do you mind putting the ice-cream back in the chiller?”

            She lets out a put-upon sigh but does it with a mouthful of ice cream, spoon hanging out of her mouth and Jake waits, watches as she opens and then closes the door, her eyes catching the photo. She’s generally more observant than Javy so he’s hoping she’ll get the ball rolling, or Bob will see the photos on the bookshelves first.

            “Is this… Who are these people in this photo?”

            “My parents and godfather…” Bradley says. “And me as a kid obviously. My dad died not long after that photo was taken actually.”

            “Oh… I’m sorry,” Phoenix says, looking uncomfortable and Jake wonders if that’s going to derail everything, but Javy is now looking as well, then glancing at Bradley.

            “Thanks. It’s fine. Was a long time ago now obviously. My godfather really stepped up and helped my mom raise me. She passed over twenty years ago though, so that’s one of my few family photos.” Jake hadn’t really put all that together and he wonders where Bradey usually keeps it.

            “I’m sorry, I just have to ask, what’s your godfathers name?”

            “Pete.”

            “Peter Mitchell. Maverick,” Javy states, looks to Bradley for confirmation and he gives a nod. Jake grins, pretty impressed Javy put I together the fastest. “Plus you have a moustache that belongs in a porno from the 80s…” Javy adds and Bradley’s eyebrows shoot up, he looks to Jake and Jake coughs, his ice cream catching in his throat with an aborted laugh. He’d forgotten he’d said that.

            “Holy shit, you’re Mav’s son. He has your photo on his desk,” Phoenix says. “That’s why you looked familiar!”

            “Guilty as charged. Don’t hold it against me. Jake wanted to have a little fun…”

            “Hey! Don’t blame this on me!”

            “It was you going on about a triple blind…”

            “What are you guys talking about?” Bob asks, coming back to stand in the kitchen and he’s looking between them all and he wonders if he heard the conversation.

            “Bradley here is Mav’s son.”

            “Oh. Huh. That explains the photo of him on the bookcase. I was going to ask how you knew him.”

            “You must know Mav’s partner. Oh my god! You almost slipped up and told us he was coming to dinner tomorrow, because of course he’s coming to dinner tomorrow. At least you don’t have to worry about introducing the boyfriend to Mav!” Phoenix says, laughing and Jake shrugs, because she has a point. Not that he’d ever really thought about seeking Mav’s approval for that part of his life.

            “Wait, so you’ve already met Mav’s partner? It’s a guy right? That’s the big secret right? What with DADT and everything…”

            “That was definitely part of it… but uh…” He stops, feels unsure suddenly, because even though Admiral Kazansky gave him explicit permission, and Jake clarified, that he’s expecting Jake to tell them, so Mav can’t ambush them with the same information tomorrow he realizes the amount of trust he’s been given.

            “His partner’s also in the Navy. I met him this morning.”

            “Is it Cyclone?”

            “Idiot! He’s met Cyclone. Will we know them?”

            “Yes. And its going to fuck you all up so much…”

            “You’re enjoying this way too much,” Javy mutters.

            “He told me to call him Tom and made me waffles this morning, and I’m still processing it okay? I just want to make you all freak out like I did…”

            “Can’t you just tell us?” Phoenix asks, looks at Bradley and he shakes his head. Jake blinks. He just said his first name. What the fuck?

            “Nope. Jake made me put clues out and everything. Pretty sure you can figure it out. And you’re right, it’s not Beau.”

            “Did you just call Admiral Simpson by his first name?”

            Jake snorts, lets out a little laugh and catches Bradley’s eye, clearly amused.

            “I call most of them by their first names. Some of them I’ll call uncle… And I’m just a civilian remember.”

            “Holy shit,” Bob says, voice quiet and Jake looks to see what he’s looking at.

            Sure enough he’s finally noticed the picture of Bradley and Admiral Kazansky, sitting the perfect height to be noticed if you’re sitting down, but not if you’re standing.

            “Admiral Tom Kasansky.”

            “Bullshit,” Javy says, emphatic and Jake just smirks, knows he’s got a couple more bullshits to get through before he starts to accept it.

            “Are you… you’re… holy shit. You’re serious.,” Bob says, looking between Jake and Bradley and then back to the photo.

            “Yep,” Jake says, popping another spoon of ice cream in his mouth.

            “Is he telling the truth? I mean, anyone can doctor photos now…” Phoenix says, and again she’s skipping over him to talk directly with Bradley.

            “All true. I mean, I call him Ice because I grew up calling him that.”

            Javy makes a high pitched sound that Jake will take as something equal to a second bullshit.

            “Anyway, he wanted to meet Jake without the whole formal dinner thing. So he came around and made waffles.”

            “Bullshit. No fucking way did the COMPACFLT make fucking waffles!”

            “He did, and he is telling the truth,” Bradley says, starting to look a little worried that Javy seems to be freaking out. Jake moves an arm to wrap around his waist, gives him a quick wink to try and convey that everything is okay and it seems to relax him.

            “Wait… you seriously met Admiral Kazansky this morning?”

            “Tom,” Jake provides, ignoring the immediate sense of wrongness at the name, but he’s going for shock value.

            “Bullshit…” Javy says again, but it’s quieter now, and Jake can tell he's processed the worst of it.

            “Nope. He told me to call him Tom.”

            “I need a fucking drink.”

            “I can help with that,” Bradley says.

PART TEN

[papasmicstand]

My Writing:

Struggling to Procreate the Unholy Bastard (23 chapters/complete)

-You have been the Cardinal’s Prime Mover for two years and have yet to conceive. The elder clergy are losing patience. What lengths will you go to to secure the Emeritus line, and what will it cost you?

TW: Non-con, self-harm, character death, blood (see AO3 for full tags)

Tied As One Infernally - A Dracopia Story (12 chapters/ongoing/ slow burn)

-Cardinal Copia is really struggling to be a vampire. He's disgusted by blood and by himself. Did I mention he's in charge of the infirmary? To combat his feelings he starves himself, or sometimes he is able to feed but purges later.

TW: Bulimia, anorexia, Non-con, blood (See AO3 for full tags)

Sex Surrogacy for Satan (3 chapters/ongoing)

-After discovering that the congregation is not being satisfied, Primo invites you, a sexual surrogate, to come to the abbey to help his brothers improve their skills. This is a large assignment, are you ready?

TW: Sex Surrogacy, Sexual Dysfunction (see AO3 for full tags)

The Celi-Bet (5 chapters/complete)

-The Papas undertake a ‘No Nut November’-esque challenge to raise money for the church. Will any of them make it?

TW: Abstinence, Failed abstinence (see AO3 for full tags)

The Devil's Lace (3 chapters/complete)

-An illness hits the band as they return home from the road. It’s lucky really, had it struck during the tour it would have been devastating. But it may take more than medicine to help the ailing musicians…

TW: Non-con elements, vomiting (see AO3 for full tags)

The Morning After (One shot/complete)

-It was the morning after the Spring equinox party and it had been epic. You shifted uncomfortably in the large bed, it felt like you were surfacing from a coma. What did you do? More importantly, who did you do?

TW: Non-con elements, infidelity (see AO3 for full tags)

Papa's Purple Pastrami (One shot/crack fic/complete)

-Papa takes out his pent up sexual tension on an innocent pastrami melt.

TW: Masturbation, sandwich defilement

Will you spill the wine? (One shot/complete)

-An embarrassing accident for Papa Emeritus III somehow devolves into in a smutty game.

TW: Piss (see AO3 for full tags)

Series - Cum-pletely Fucked - Unplanned Pregnancies in the Abbey

Part 1: You Get Me Closer to God... I mean Satan (One shot/complete)

-I offer you a virginal Cardinal Copia. He's madly in love with you and ready to be deflowered.

TW: Vomiting (see AO3 for full tags)

Part 2: Trifecta (One shot/complete)

-Copia had told you that the four Emeritus brothers had undergone a special communion with the dark lord, and that they would only be capable of siring children during Prime Mover rituals. You believed this because none of them had produced offspring, although they were all sexually active. And in Terzo’s case, extremely active... So, why are you in this predicament?

TW: Angry sex, vomiting (see AO3 for full tags)

Part 3: Vessel of Possibilities - A Choose Your Own Adventure with Terzo (4 chapters/ongoing)

-An encounter with Papa Emeritus III leads to a possibly life-altering decision for you. You are in control, so proceed as you wish.

TW: Unplanned pregnancy, abortion (see AO3 for full tags)

Series - CNC the Light

Part 1, Copia: Green Light of the Spectrum (One shot/complete)

-Copia would do anything for love, but can he do this?

TW: Consensual Non-Consent (see AO3 for full tags)

Part 2, Terzo: Wood (One shot/complete)

-Would you trade the beauty for the beast?

TW: Consensual Non-Consent (see AO3 for full tags)

[remainseatedatalltimes]

2023: Bow Down To Barbenheimer

Oh 2023.  You came and went in a flicker.  And so will the memory of your cinema releases. 

Okay, okay.  It wasn’t that bad.  But in many ways, 2023 felt like a complete repeat of 2022 with the release of a series of decent, entertaining enough films to help moviegoers like myself enjoy a cinematic escape from the real world.  

Now don’t get me wrong, there is absolutely nothing wrong with that.  In fact, it’s precisely what my overactive brain yearns for.  And it’s a large reason why so many of the movies I review tend to sit squarely in the 3-to-4-star category.  I’m so grateful for that escape that I genuinely do like most movies.  But essentially, a movie needs to make me FEEL something that compels me to want to talk about it to get above or below that range.  To keep that escape going beyond the boundaries of the cineplex.  Good, bad or otherwise (we all love to share horror stories of the appalling film we had to endure…remember Cats?).  So whilst I thoroughly enjoyed my cinematic escapes in 2023, very few films kept me thinking and talking extensively about them beyond the boundaries of the cinema.  With a few exceptions…

But first, let’s talk about the three movies that DID make an impact in 2023 with most cinemagoers:  Barbie, Oppenheimer, and The Super Mario Bros. Movie.  All 3 were big successes that certainly lit up the interweb.  And whilst Barbie certainly drew lots of well-deserved praise, unfortunately for me, most of the sequences with Will Ferrell and the Mattel leaders – who clearly had to be larger than life caricatures so to not offend the real-world company banking the film – just completely ruined the overall tone and impact.  Which is a shame, because if these characters had in fact represented the real-world business leaders, it would have elevated this already joyous and clever film to greater heights.

Meanwhile, The Super Mario Bros. Movie did great fan service with a fun and fast-paced film that finally gave the biggest names in gaming the cinematic star-status they deserve.  Even if Nintendo clearly didn’t read the Disney rulebook on merchandising by failing to release a new gaming title in line with the film…go figure.

But it was the final film in the 2023 trifecta that transcended the crowd to take the crown of my number 1 film of the year.  That film, Christopher Nolan’s dark, anxious and ambitious study of guilt, in the biopic, Oppenheimer.

To be honest, this movie probably does deserve a higher ranking than I’ve awarded it.  It is pretty close to cinema perfection.  A stellar cast, a stunning soundscape, a captivating story, and some of the best scene composition I’ve seen in years.  But I review from my heart, and I still left Oppenheimer stunned, but slightly hollow.  Which arguably is the entire point of the film.  I think we’d all have been very confused if this had been a musical retelling (don’t laugh, it’s actually a thing - Google Australian musical Atomic).  But when I look at other films I’ve awarded higher scores to, I stand by my score based on my personal taste.  I am quite thrilled it still managed to take out the no. 1 spot, however.  And hey, this is my list, so I can do what I want 😉

Interestingly, my second favourite film dealt with very similar themes – depression, grief, isolation – but in a VERY different way.  Quirky, brilliantly acted, and at times both heartbreaking and hilarious, The Banshees of Inisherin did find its way to my heart, and captivated me for 2 joyous hours of intrigue, laughs, tears, and WTF is happening musings.  Not to mention the haunting, yet stunning landscape sitting at the films core.  I lied.  I did mention it.

Rounding out my top 3 was another Barry Keoghan star vehicle, and one of 2023’s most controversial movies.  Whilst not quite as sublime as Emerald Fennell’s spectacular 2021 film, Promising Young Woman, her recent take on wealth, privilege, desire, and greed was impossible to look away from (even though I kind of wanted to in several instances).  But that is precisely the point of this film.  Reminiscent to me of one of my favourite films of all time, the underrated The Talented Mr. Ripley, this cynical, shocking, and brutal film was intentionally wicked and wonderful to behold.  Even if it may not be for everyone.

Similarly to 2022, I ended up awarding 12 films this year with 4-star ratings.  So there were plenty of other very good films released this year that you should catch up on if you haven’t already.  These ranged from the wonderfully optimistic and sentimental, Wonka – which, despite the director’s claims to the contrary, is the very definition of a MUSICAL; to the brilliant and most original film of the year, Poor Things – which very nearly pipped Saltburn for my 3rd place.  Emma Stone can literally do no wrong.  I also thoroughly enjoyed the animated gems ranging from the best superhero film of the year – Spiderman: Across the Universe; to Pixar’s romantic comedy, Elemental; to Disney’s latest animated musical, Wish – a charming, somewhat clever tribute to the 100th anniversary of the studio. I also clearly have a thing for seeing the upper echelons suffer, because the disturbing, yet brilliantly funny Triangle of Sadness also wet my whistle.  And rounding out the top 12 were three bigger blockbuster style films that shot well above their weight:  The best game adaptation of a movie to date (no, it’s not the one you’re thinking), Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves; the Nike origin story (is that a thing?), Air; and the hilarious, Joyride which accelerated nicely, but took out a few orange safety cones on the way to the finish line.

Thankfully this year was very firmly tipped in favour of the positives, with only 2 films falling below the 3-star level (although several such as the over-rated critical darling Tár, and the underwhelming slew of Marvel 2023 releases including The Marvels and Guardians of the Galaxy: Volume 3, did teeter precariously close to that edge.

Instead, it was another Marvel film, the over CGI’d and yet rather dull, Ant Man sequel, Ant-Man and the Wasp: Quantamania that unfortunately became my first Marvel Cinematic Universe film to drop below the 3-star level.  Mostly because it felt pointless, hollow, and somewhat dull.  The sooner Marvel realises the solution to their box-office woes right now is less about super-hero fatigue, and more about the fact they’ve lost their human elements – and in doing so – their emotional core, the better.  The solution:  Ditch trying to go “bigger”, and bring the action back to Earth, in a setting we all find familiar, to make the action more personal.  In other words, bring in the moral quarry that the X-Men present.  There is no better time than now to tell the mutation story.  So they should hurry up and re-tell it the way only Marvel Studios can.

And finally, rounding out my list in last place was the incredibly oddly executed black comedy – Allelujah.  I say black comedy because that’s my best guess as to the genre this film was aiming for.  But unfortunately, not even the talented cast could save this film from delivering a storyline that has been done numerous times before (and better) on television, in a way that felt both shallow and frankly insulting, all at the same time. 

[hurricane-heatt]

Hey hi hello!!! May I ask 6, 8, and 18???

hi liquid!!!!

6. Are there any fics from others you reread all the time?

IS THERE!!! my bookmarks on ao3 is basically everything i’ll read over and over, but some are trifecta, bitter/sweet, nayq and destination which come to mind first.

8. What project(s) are you currently working on?

full speed ahead on cyberpunk au. bad for business has its first chapter complete but unfortunately it may have to take a little longer bcus cyberpunk:) all my kinkmeme claims r also slowly getting done, when i get round to it ill deanon a couple and u can put a name to the porn

18. What’s one of your favorite lines you’ve written in a fic?

omg this one’s hard. think i’ve answered before so i’ll go with a newer fic, my fave line from chandeliers is;

“You said yes. Changed your mind?” Mark laughs low in his throat, because Sebastian wouldn’t. There’s no point asking stupid questions, Sebastian had told him years ago in the corner of a garage in China. 

Why did you do it? asked Mark.

No point asking stupid questions. said Sebastian.

i think it’s so simple? idk. it felt like a very canon(?) piece of dialogue to me, and the changing meaning within the fic also gives it a lot of weight.

thank you!

[no1shouldknoe]

Olongapo, maybe?

So, I’ve been driving non-stop to and from Manila, Bulacan, and Subic/ Olongapo since Thursday. It was very tiring but I’m not gonna lie, Subic grew on me a bit.

I had a lot of complaints on the entire itinerary because 1) I really had no business to go between these places everyday, 2) I very much would just like to chill at home, and 3) while I generally like driving, it is exhausting and even more so when you’re doing it as an errand. The series of travels had to happen because of my sister, and I did not have any choice.

Luckily, my old friend, Jian, and his girlfriend, Cha, were in Subic over the weekend and they happily indulged me when I asked them for dinner! We ate at El Filo, inside the Freeport Zone, and had a beach walk while catching-up.

Cha was a local and she reminisced her childhoold while we were on the boardwalk—how her day went back in highschool, chilling by the beach every after class while munching on bbq and other snacks with friends. At the time, I felt envious of her. She’s so lucky to grew up by the beach and have easy access on beach waves and sea breeze. It must be nice to grew up under the coastal sun, with the sandy air blowing everyday.

It’s that thought that made me think, what if I stay here? What if I put up my law practice here? Imagine, after a stressful day at work, you can be at the beach in minutes and take everything slow, even just for a brief moment. Plus, it’s a city, but not really that city. It’s convenient but cheap, and still gives off the probinsya vibe and sense of community which is lacking in Manila. Most of all, it’s just two hours away from home. I can go back and forth without dreading the journey because both destinations will be where I belong. How nice, right?

I’ve been to the mountains in Baguio, and to the city in Manila, so maybe I can complete the trifecta and be at the beach in Subic. Haha. But on the bigger scheme of things, I’ve realized these past few years that I cannot make a life in Manila. I can stay there, but I cannot possibly live there. Like my heart would always yearn for home, because Manila cannot be home. It’s a place to work your ass off, make money, and spend it off. I may be born to hustle but I’m not meant to be a Manila girlie. This, I know.

Oh, also, here’s a photo of me in Hometown Cafe, a hidden gem in Subic. Their Dirty Horchata is truly the bomb, nothing compares.

[yearofthemagicaltorment]

Weekly Round-up January 7th

I hope y’all had a wonderful holiday season. I know I did. I spent a lot of quality time with my family. I even visited my partner’s parents which was super awkward since my partner had them under grey rock. He had attempted to go full no contact but there is too much manipulation for him to have the ability to do that. 

Which brings me to this - If you are an adult child of an emotionally immature parent I suggest blocking them and concentrating on yourself and the family you’ve made. I know it’s difficult. It took me more than one time to block my mother completely. Emotionally you will feel guilt. You will still desire to have that parent or parents as you grow up. 

The thing that you have to remember is that they are not a parent. They never were. They do not have the ability to be. By all means, forgive them. Even tell them you forgive them. They will never comprehend what it is you are forgiving them for as they do not have the emotional capability. It gets easier. You will be happier. It's so much simpler than dealing with their cycles and being their pawn.

Now on to fun things!

Over the past few weeks, I lost track of everything I received in the mail so I’m just going to go over the highlights.

Wellness

Larq Pitcher Purevis with advanced Filter - My previous water pitcher was broken due to the lid falling off. I had been searching and this brand came up under gmadeals. The pitcher is normally $168.00. I purchased it for $139.00. It looks like that is the sale that is still on. You also get 2% through Rakuten but I always suggest checking your credit card company as well. 

The lid on this is super tight so it does not fall off and the water tastes very clean. Like bottled water. It does not leave any distinct flavors like a Brita filter. For this, there are two filter choices, either $20 or $30, and they need to be replaced every two months. To me, this is well worth the investment. 

Sakara -

I’ve canceled Sakara due to a mess of problems. This may or may not happen to you. The food is tasty. I just could not get things straight through customer service. There is one thing I cannot stand when working with a business it is shitty customer service. 

I had what I felt was a simple inquiry as I had not received a shipment in a week and a half. We got up to 19 emails (back and forth) and I did not get escalated or offered a phone call. At that point, I had been offered free items and a week of free meals. All I wanted was to know what was actually due to me and when. I wasn’t looking for free stuff. 

I was so frustrated at the end I requested to cancel and a refund for anything I had remaining. Someone else did this so I assume it was finally escalated. The really sad part is I would have remained a customer had the first person just called and talked to me for 5 minutes to clarify. 

I will continue to order their detox tea because it’s delicious. Do not confuse this with their digestive tea which is not delicious.

Trifecta -

This is what I’m trying now although so far I’m unimpressed. My first shipment did not include breakfast. They refunded me the difference but this was at the point that I was already charged for my second week. We’ll see what happens next.

Other meal plans I am looking into are Veestro and Sprinly. Sprinly looks like it might be more flavorful so I might try them next. 

Makeup

I received my Violete_FR Bisou Balm. This stuff is beautiful. The colors I purchased were Guimauve and Calisson. This is a sheer matte lipstick. These colors essentially blend into the lip giving you an MLBB look. The feel of this formula is so good. My only critique is the smell. I can’t quite put my finger on it but it’s a little off-putting when you first apply. I wear them anyway because I love everything else about them.

Because I loved this formula so much I went back to the site and noticed their skincare. I ordered the Boum-Boum Milk. This product is supposed to be a toner, serum, and moisturizer all in one. It is a probiotic-based formula that can also be used in your hair. I cannot wait to try it.

Lancome Lash Idol - This mascara gives me the biggest lashes. I think it’s the brush itself. It’s curved on one side and flat on the other so you can really manipulate how you shape your lashes. 

Ciate Wonderland - Also a great mascara. Lashes are thick and separated. The brush is nice. I go back and forth between this and the Lancome mascara. 

Melt Four Twenty Palette - I’ve used this palette a couple of times now. Only the mattes so far. They are a little bit chalky and can get muddy when blending. I’m not a pro by any means but I’ve never had this happen. I did the Smoking Sessions and Millennial Pinx Palettes during the 40 percent off sale - which is still going on! They also still have $25 and $75 mystery boxes which are an amazing deal. There is a general description of what is in the boxes but no color options (that's the mystery). I will follow up after I try the other items.

Skincare

Whish Pink Champagne Lip Balm with Bakuchiol - I received this in my Allure December box. I am absolutely obsessed with lip products but this is by far my favorite. It is a non-sticky formula with amazing slip on your lips. The bakuchiol really does help the vertical lip lines. I was able to see this right away. 

When I saw this I went to the Whishbody site and ordered the lip mask, lip scrub, and two more lip balms (Vanilla Bean and Pear - these flavors are on sale). The lip mask is more of a traditional balm. It's waxy and melts into the skin rather than sits on top of it. I put this under a lip mask or the Whish lip balm. The sugar scrub is very nice. It’s a fine-grain sugar scrub. It does a very thorough job of exfoliating. Both the mask and the scrub have bakuchiol in them and the jars are 1 oz which is giant for these types of items. 

If you are looking for a more cost-effective option. Chapstick has a very nice one -  - you can get it from Amazon for $5. It is a tiny little powerhouse of a scrub. I don’t know what a Sugarplum is or if this tastes like it but the flavor is lovely. The ingredient highlights are Vitamin E and coconut oil. The size of this scrub is .27 oz but as with all scrubs, a little goes a long way. 

Kjaer Weis Eye Balm - This stuff is so much better than expected. I have used so many different eye products and I recently tried Vitamin C Lactic Firm & Bright Eye Treatment and it literally did nothing for me. I’ve been using Perricone MD High Potency Growth Factor & Lifting Eye Serum, again, nothing. I put this KW Eye Balm on and immediately I felt the relaxation under my eyes and I was able to see it. The next day I woke up and I still see it. I continue to use it and I continue to see results. I don’t know if I’m seeing what I want to, but to me it looks like the results are compound. 

For a more cost effective Eye Balm - I recommend I Dew Care Glow Key - This has Caffeine and Vitamin C. The bright pink formula camouflages the skin under the eye. It has a handy little tool with it. This stuff is great to refresh the eye area, as for heavy-duty ingredients, it just doesn’t have much. It’s more for those in their 20s or possibly when you need to refresh after a hangover ;)

Ella and Mila - I have been using nail stuff to strengthen my nails. It’s working but I am still a chronic nail-biter. I am working on it though!

I guess that’s it for now. Do y’all have any opinions on any of these products? Any suggestions for prepared vegan meal plans? How do you deal with flying monkeys? See ya soon!

[berrylover0571]

It's really cool that I have nice friends who can make shit that makes me feel better about things because if I didn't have friends who could even vaguely make me feel better, I think I would just give the fuck up.

Like it's so goddamn annoying how much I hear like I'm pretty, because I'm sure it's true., but for some reason, I just don't feel attractive. I barely feel like I appeal to anyone near me. I feel like the majority of people find me only somewhat attractive. Feel like it's partially my fault, but at some point you get either rejected or just straight up ignored enough times or even just straight up turned down before you even prompt it before it's not a you thing, it just feels like shits against you.

Like do you know how tiresome it is to like really like somebody, and and to maybe even try the very first minimal steps towards maybe working up the courage and before you've even gotten there, they just fucking shoot you down? Do you know how many times that's just kind of fucking happened? At least three of them have just been passing jokes! It it hurts. It hurts a lot!

Like I just want to feel like I'm pretty enough to fucking even approach having a chance with someone, and I barely have it. I barely have it. I can't fucking stand that.

Like, I got kissed on the forehead tonight. And that's the first time anyone, and I cannot stress that enough anyone, has shown me any sort of truly meaningful physical affection who is not my family. And that feel good! Something really small and genuine felt really good and genuine and nice and just completely unprompted. And then, on the same night, somebody I have admired for a while and who's now kind of open to explore things with new people just shut that door before I even asked.

It just hurts. It just fucking hurts.

Everyone I would really like to connect with is either fucking far from me or doesn't like me in that way. And truly that pisses me off more than being cheated on! Because at least when I was being cheated on, there was a modicum of love before it happened. At some point we did enjoy each other's presents. At some point I can know that I was a good part of their life, even though they cheated. Being rejected before I even prompted the question, that's like not even tabling the idea. There wasn't even a hesitation it was just, "this is out of the question. I don't like you in that way." Which, to be honest, I'm not going to hate that. I will be the bestest friend anyone could ever have. Because it's just something I like doing. I don't like ruining relationships, I truly don't, I don't ever want to like ruin a friendship with somebody if that's a possibility. I've had that happen too many fucking times without involving sex and relationships. That being said? Still fucking hurts.

Cuz, it makes me question if I am pretty when they call me pretty. It makes me not feel like I have the ability to attract anybody. Especially when they told me I could. Cuz I don't believe anybody when they tell me that, what are you crazy? Are you fucking insane? I am mid at best, with a stereotypically weird fetish to boot, who is transgender. I have the shittiest hand. I have a trifecta of negative modifiers, so I'm already fighting an uphill battle with the odds, the fact that I am just not on the table for one person just hurts a little more.

Like I didn't even try... there was no hesitation... but God damn, God fucking damn, it's just how I needed to end the fucking night. I love life. I knew there was going to be a backswing. I knew it was going to oscillate into a bad fucking day, why did I get my fucking hopes up? Why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why?

It was such a fucking Fool's dream to even believe it would work out. I wish I didn't even feel that way. I wish I didn't fall for people so easily.

I wish I felt attractive. At least then I would have that.

Tw // Vent

I sincerely hope not a single one of you ever has the Misfortune to dwell within my head. I hope no one does.

There is only one consistent through line when it comes to my life, before and after transitioning, before and after becoming the person I want to be, just before and after everything. That consistent through line is that it doesn't matter what I do, it really doesn't, people only like me just enough.

That is a fraught thing to admit on the internet, it opens the doors for some of the most asinine people on the planet to say the most unhinged things because, well, vulnerability of any kind no matter the error of the internet is seen as a weakness that should be exploited and not a Humanity that should be praised. This is because a bunch of assholes have used and weaponized vulnerability to such a sadistic extent that we cannot distinguish between genuine and ingenuine vulnerability, and honestly that's a tragedy I am so deeply depressed by. I don't want to be adored by a hundred thousand fucking vague people who don't know me and form a parasocial bond with me. That's not what I want to do and it's not what I want to be.

I just want someone, someone out of the goodness of their heart to like me. To make me feel like I can be a giddy young girl, who feels pretty and worthwhile to make an effort.

Because it has never fucking happened.

My first relationship, my only relationship, was one born out of fire and rage and sadness and the desire to be a fucking Band-Aid for somebody who needed it desperately. Just as desperately as I needed one. And for 7 years we kept lacerating each other because we weren't helping each other, we loved each other, but it hurt it's so many ways and I can't get that time back. I can't get the person I was back. And I'm so deeply saddened by that.

I loved her after she loved me and it couldn't work because we were going to kill each other because we needed to be somebody else for each other. It didn't help that somebody fucking decided to make it their business to interfere and ruin things even further, making any interaction even harder and making our lives a living hell.

Now I am here, three years later, scarred and tired and I just don't get it.

Why am I the fuck up? Why am I the failure? Why don't people like me enough to tell me when I'm not depressed? Why is it that I have to have tears streaming off my face for somebody to tell me they like me? Tell me they've had a crush on me or to tell me they've enjoyed me?

Before I transitioned it was even worse, if I liked anybody it was a joke.

So you can imagine how little I actually felt people liked me that. Being rejected twice does not help that, and it doesn't help that no matter what you did everyone just kind of looked at you funny. Just a little bit funny.

You know what the fucking stupid is part of this is? Someone's going to read this and say I'm a fucking incel because I'm fucking angry that it's nobody. Not a single person. Or when it happens it's when they definitely feel pity for me. It's never out of the blue, it's never when I want it to be, never when I need it most, when I fucking at my limit and I hate it.

I saved myself for marriage to a person who now blames themselves for the destruction of our relationship. I waited patiently to do something everyone else has been able to do and explore. Do you know what it's like, going basically 24 human years with maybe 3 days worth of intimate touch? Maybe that.

The last time I felt like I meant something to someone was almost 6 years ago, it's been more than a decade and I hardly remember it. It hurts. It hurts so much.

And I'm always there, for my friends who are struggling the most with some of the worst fucking shit they've had to deal with it, and I get it. I get feeling like shit and not feeling like they scared to get better but God damn, if I unload all of this up to somebody I don't think they'd be able to fucking breathe.

Because it's not just not being able to be around the person or to touch a person or to be touched by a person for 24 years it's the sheer fact that your constantly reminded of it by everyone around you from family to friends to your fucking mother.

I look just like my mom in so many ways and when she spiral so badly it says everything that hurts and everything she has issues with, I look at myself in the mirror and I asked if I have the same problem. Because she's a little been alone for half the time I've been alone. What if all of her worries are true, for both of us?

What if I'm going to die alone? Scared and unloved and unable to experience the one thing I haven't?

Do you know how much it fucking hurts to see everyone I care about doing great with regards to that stuff? Do you know how much I just want to be happy? Do you know how much I movements for that I don't even get dirt from in return? It makes me not even want to try.

I started doing this, posting more regularly on this blog and being more open about myself as a means to get more comfortable get my skin. Now I'm very much more ready to be even more comfortable in my skin, and I'm comfortable enough to want somebody to you know, want to get to know it, and for fuck sake there's not a single person. Not one. It's just nobody.

They don't want to get to know me outside of a surface level, they don't want to say anything to me, do anything to me, they just want to fucking stare, it hurts.

I don't want to be "fierce." I don't want to be "powerful," I don't want to be told I'm gorgeous in a space where everyone's lifting each other up because we're all one bad day away from a grave and a candlelight vigil. I don't want to be remembered as "brave." Fuck being brave, I want to be told in the quiet depths of the stariest nights is that my eyes have hypnotized someone. That my hair reminds them of their favorite stuffed animal. That I look good in blue, that I'm smart, I want to feel romance. Because I don't. I don't feel it.

I feel like a decoration, a diary, a dog, kept just happy enough to stay, told every secret, admired but never touched except when my usage is up and god DAMMIT I am so fucking exhausted.

I don't just want to survive. I don't want the bare minimum. I don't want to just eek out a measly modicum of enough. I want to live. To love. To be loved. To feel like enough.

Cause I don't.

One of my best friends tonight said that I could absolutely "get some from someone." I don't believe her.

Why would i?

I've never been the first choice.

[knewyouwereaweirdo]

theatre family headcanons (that live rent free in my head)

- back when johnny’s dad was still in jail, rosita would be the one to make surprise visits at the garage and make sure if he was eating well, sleeping well, not overworking himself for the bail money. the usual motherly duties, amongst many other things.

- marcus literally has no hesitation to show all of johnny’s friends his baby photos.

- ash and nooshy together have the most chaotic of friend relationships—they’d say yes to jumping off a cliff in a synced heartbeat and they would think it’s a good idea to do so.

- when it used to be just ash, meena, and johnny, ash was the one who demanded they made a groupchat.

- and when she did make the groupchat, she proceeded to name it “the holy trinity”, then “the trifecta to dissect ya”.

- most of their groupchat conversations would be something like:

ash: hey guys guys guys guys guys guys

johnny: what??? its two am

ash: i just did some intense math like

ash: i just ate a whole box of frosted flakes

ash: its like a thousand grams

ash: im 52kg

ash: that means im 2% made of frosted flakes

ash: holy shit

johnny: please go to bed ash

- both ash and johnny had posters of clay calloway up on their walls when they were kids—you can’t imagine the excitement they felt when they met him.

- johnny probably called his dad that moment, like, “dad, you won’t believe who we’re performing with, it’s clay calloway, dad—can you believe it?”

- as for johnny, he grew up with calloway’s songs because it used to be his mother’s favorite singer.

- basically they’re his comfort songs and listening to them helps him calm down or fall asleep.

- rosita is the one to buy snacks for the cast who are rehearsing and you cannot imagine the amount of food she brings along (and she’s right to do so because all of them surprisingly eat a lot).

- when they arrived at crystal hotel, all the kids excitedly asked if they can look around the place while the adults unpacked and did their own boring stuff:

ash: moon, can we pleeeeaaassseeee go and explore?

buster: of course! just remember our room number—oh, here’s your room key, don’t forget that—and just make sure to be back by thirty!

- and basically that day they completely forgot they had a “curfew” and proceeded to go play at the hotel swimming pool.

- rosita and buster spent hours looking for them and rosita gave them a bit of a scolding when they were found splashing each other on the river ride.