#by which I mean feel free to ask about them

[kingkonoha]

hello. just recently started reading your dad!gojo fics and i am obsessed with them. i saw you mention taking requests for it, so i thought i would send something in. feel free to change any details.

i would like to request a scenario about megumi finally feeling maternal love. i noticed he's always afraid y/n and gojo will change their minds about adopting him and he always compares himself to yuji.

could i request some bonding time between megumi and the reader? maybe he opens up about his worries and feelings. i was thinking the reader could defend him when someone being rude to him as well, but any direction you go in, i will love. i just really am asking for bonding time between mother and son.

MY SON || SATORU G.

♡ — SUMMARY: After you & Satoru adopt Yuji and Megumi, Megumi can’t help but fear that you both will abandon him.

♡ — CONTENT: general angst with comfort, satoru being a great family man, mentions of depression, not eating, very brief mention of wanting to die, & happy ending. you & satoru have a biological child as well.

♡ — WORD COUNT: 4K

♡ — AUTHOR’S NOTE: This fic is part of my Dad!Gojo series, but reading the other parts isn’t necessary.

Megumi’s eyes snapped open. Beads of sweat coated his forehead and neck as he was greeted by the darkness of his bedroom.

Another nightmare.

His fourth one this week.

They weren’t about curses or haunting memories of his past battles, not at all. But, what he did dream about was equally as terrifying; his belongings tossed out on the streets in garbage bags.

“We don’t need two adopted teenagers,” you’d say, glaring at him with utter resentment.

“We have Yuji. He’s the perfect son,” Satoru would add on.

Just like that, he’d return to his old, familiar title of an orphan. Just like that, he’d have to wonder what it felt like to be loved by a mother and father instead of experiencing it himself. Just like that.

He tried to shove the memory of those dreams away because that was all they happened to be. Dreams. A manifestation of his horrid fears. They weren’t real, right? Not some twisted form of foresight?

Megumi rolled over onto his side. The digital clock on his nightstand flickered to 3:47 A.M.

His left pajama pant leg was rolled up to his knee, and the neck of his blue t-shirt was damp with sweat — all signs of a rough slumber, though he had hardly slept at all.

He pulled the messy sheets and comforter over his body, but there was no chance of him falling back asleep. He never did after his nightmares, and it was evident based on the dark circles forming underneath his blue eyes. He’d just lie awake, and let his mind wander . . .

It wasn’t a dream.

It would soon become his reality.

He knew it.

He wasn’t your biological kid like his little sister, Maya. He wasn’t even half as energetic or enthusiastic as Yuji. That boy constantly showered you both with appreciation. Beyond that, Yuji's sudden appearance in your life was the main reason you and Gojo considered adopting Megumi in the first place, despite you both having known Megumi for years prior.

Why did you never consider adopting him before you met Yuji? Why?

It could only mean that his suspicions were correct. You and Gojo didn’t want him. You wanted Yuji and didn’t want to hurt Megumi’s feelings. So, you ended up adopting two teenagers instead of one.

And it was only a matter of time before you and Gojo would get fed up with him.

He should leave first instead of waiting for the day in which you both decide you’re better off without some moody sorcerer bringing the rest of the family down during board game nights and movie marathons.

He’d do it.

He’d pack his bags and leave.

No one would notice.

No one would care.

He was unwanted.

He wasn’t your son.

He was stowaway.

—

It was edging closer to 9:00 A.M., and there was an empty spot at the breakfast nook in the gourmet kitchen.

The table was packed to the brim with servings of toast, meat, eggs, and rice. Satoru took a bite of his egg, watching Maya spread jam on her piece of toasted bread as best as she could, all while Yuji gobbled down his food as if someone was going to snatch it from him.

“Slow down,” you approached, coffee in hand, ruffling your boy’s messy hair.

“Huh?” Yuji paused with a mouth full of food. He swallowed, then said, “Oh, sorry. Everything’s just really great!”

You took a sip of your coffee, frowning upon seeing that Megumi wasn’t at the breakfast nook.

“Did Megumi oversleep?” You locked eyes with Satoru.

“I’m pretty sure he’s awake,” Satoru said, grabbing a napkin before gently wiping strawberry jam off of his adorable daughter’s face. Speaking to the young girl, he mumbled, “careful now, Muffin.”

You took a tentative sip of your warm beverage. “I’m gonna go check on him.”

—

Three gentle knocks sounded from Megumi’s bedroom door.

“Megumi?” You called from the other side. “Breakfast is ready.”

There was a beat of silence, then, he weakly replied, “Not hungry.”

“Can I come in?”

Megumi sighed, but even so, he said yes, and you entered your son’s room to see him still in bed, curled up underneath his covers, the majority of his body hidden underneath the thick fabric.

“You barely touched your dinner last night,” you said, leaning against the frame of his door. “You’ve barely come out of your room at all. Are you feeling sick?”

“I’m fine.”

It was a lie.

You read enough books about raising teenagers to spot false tales. Even so, you didn’t press him, even when an enormous lump of worry started to form in your throat.

“Alright. Food’s here when you want it.” You grabbed his door handle, closing it slowly, awaiting his response, but one never came.

—

Two hours had passed. This time, when someone knocked on Megumi’s door, it was in the form of a rather silly tune, and that person did not wait for permission to enter. Megumi knew exactly who it was without emerging from underneath his comforter.

“Fushigubro!” Yuji peeled the layers of covers back and shook the boy’s shoulder. “Wanna see if Nobara’s free later? Maybe we can all catch a movie or something.”

Megumi didn’t answer. Instead, he grabbed the covers Yuji removed, and rehid himself as if the covers served as some sort of protective shield.

“You seem kinda tired,” Yuji tilted his head a bit. “Did you stay up late?”

“Go away, Yuji.”

“Why? You’ve been ducking me all week!” Much like the conversation between you and Megumi earlier, Yuji, too, waited for a response that never came.

With a heavy sigh, he started to leave his brother’s room. “Alright, your loss. Some pretty great stuff is coming out this weekend.” It was one, last, desperate attempt. An attempt that failed. With another sigh, Yuji mumbled, “See you later.”

—

The pitter-patter of small feet could be heard approaching Megumi’s door around noon. For Maya, Megumi at least built up both the patience and energy to turn over onto his side, facing the door as the little girl opened it and ran into his bedroom.

“Meg-mi! Come on, let’s play! Let’s play!”

He gathered all the energy he could muster to say, as kindly as he could, “Not right now.”

“But we always play,” Maya frowned.

“Maybe later.”

“Pleaseee?” She tapped her feet.

“Go away.”

Those words hurt her. Maya was almost five years old, and though she was one of the kindest kids one would ever meet, she was still incredibly sensitive. It was no surprise to see the young girl’s eyes widen with sadness and her bottom lip start to quiver. Megumi, who was the coolest person in the world to her, had never spoken to her in such a way. It hurt.

Her little sniffles grew louder as she left his bedroom.

—

By the time Maya made her way from Megumi’s room to the living room, she was practically drowning in her own tears. Through blurred vision, she sought out the hazy figure sitting on the couch, her arms outstretched.

“What’s wrong, Muffin? C’mere.” Satoru scooped her up, sitting her on his lap. “What happened?”

Hearing the commotion, you stepped into the living room, your eyebrows knitted together in great concern.

“Meg-mi didn’t wanna play,” she sniffled. “He-he said to go away!”

“I’ll play with you, sweetheart. We can play whatever you want until lunch is ready, hm?” Satoru wiped her tears away with the end of his sleeve. “Don’t cry. You’re breaking my heart.”

“Okay,” she spoke with a little mumble. “Does Meg-mi hate me? ‘Cause he’s my brother . . . and brothers aren’t s‘posed to hate you.”

“No, no, he doesn’t hate you. I think he might just be a little sick right now,” Satoru paused. “Sometimes people want a little peace and quiet when they’re not feeling well.”

“And soup.”

“That’s right, and soup,” Satoru gave her a soft smile.

“How about I make you something special for lunch, Maya?” You suddenly caught the young girl’s attention, faking a bright smile with the hopes of cheering her up. “What do you want to eat?”

“I . . . umm . . . uh . . . sandwiches!”

“Sandwiches it is. Mommy’s gonna make you the biggest sandwich ever,” you promised.

“Let’s go play,” Satoru said to Maya.

She hopped off of his lap, running as fast as her tiny feet would carry her to the backdoor, where she and her dad would spend the next hour playing together in the enchanting backyard.

—

Beautiful sandwiches were stuffed to the brim with meat, veggies, and sauces — every sandwich customized to each specific family member’s liking. They were cut in half, resting on plates with apple slices served on the side.

Satoru and Maya would be inside soon to gobble their sandwiches down. Yuji wasn’t home, and would perhaps grab lunch with his friend, so you stored his sandwich away in a Tupperware container, popping it in the fridge for later.

You held on to Megumi’s plate. He had skipped breakfast. He hadn’t left his room all day.

Approaching his bedroom, his lunch in hand, you noted that his door was open. This little fact would have made you smile under ordinary circumstances, but today, it snapped your heart into pieces.

You knew well that Maya never remembered to shut doors. Therefore, it was easy to gather that she left it open earlier when she asked Megumi to play, and if it was still open, then that meant your son couldn’t even find the strength or desire to close it himself.

You stepped into his room as quietly as you could. You eyed the lump underneath the covers, hoping Megumi would emerge, but at best, you were only able to see the very top of his head. Even his black hair wasn’t as spiky today.

The plate clanked against Megumi’s nightstand as you sat it down. He didn’t move. He didn’t say a word. If it wasn’t for the rise and fall of the covers, in sync with his slow breathing, you would have assumed he was dead.

It was motherly instinct that made your hand reach out, wanting to touch his shoulder or pull him in for a hug or even just pat his arm — anything. But you didn’t. You didn’t touch him at all. You only turned around and left, hoping that when you returned, it would be to collect an empty plate that needed to be washed.

—

The afternoon sun had warmed the big family home, casting gentle orange sun rays through the windows with drawn curtains, natural light filtering in.

A half-cold mug of tea sat on the coffee table in your den, right beside a closed novel you grabbed off of the bookshelf to read, but you had no desire to do so right now. Not when you could only think about your son.

It was time to check on him again.

His room, unlike the rest of the house, was dark. Chilly. His blackout curtains left the sunlight no chance of entering his space.

Megumi himself was in a slightly different position than he was when you stepped into his room earlier to give him his sandwich. He was still under the covers, still hidden, breathing slowly, but the shape of him indicated he was curled up into a ball.

The sandwich.

The plate was sitting on his nightstand. Not a piece of the sandwich had been nibbled on, not even a crumb. The untouched apple slices were starting to turn brown around the edges.

“Megumi . . .”

He shifted a bit but didn’t respond. Earlier in the day, he would have at least mumbled something, but now, he no longer bothered with doing that either. It was as if he was worsening by the hour.

You were on the verge of tears. What was wrong with him? What was going on with your boy?

—

Satoru joined you in the living room fifteen minutes later. During that time, you weren’t aware of your own endless pacing until your husband wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, halting your footsteps.

“Talk to me,” he whispered.

“I’m really worried about Megumi,” you wasted no time pouring out your grievances, resting the back of your head against your husband’s chest. “He won’t eat. I thought it was my cooking at first, but he won’t take a bite, Satoru. He won’t leave his bed, he’s barely sleeping . . . if he was sick, I think he’d tell us. And it’s not like him to hurt Maya’s feelings.”

“I think he’s depressed. It’s rare when a sorcerer isn’t depressed.”

“None of his latest missions have been too . . . traumatizing,” You turned around in Gojo’s arms, looking up into his eyes. “Why would he suddenly start to act this way now?”

“Sometimes that’s just how it works. All we can do is continue to give these kids the world, and hope that it balances out the shitty job that comes with being a sorcerer,” Satoru planted a kiss on your forehead. “Want me to talk to him?”

You shook your head as a way of saying no. “I want to do it. But I have a gut feeling he’s depressed about something else. I just know it.”

The white-haired man cradled your head, guiding it towards his chest. His other arm was still wrapped around your waist, and for a moment, he simply held you.

—

“Megumi?”

You stood at Megumi’s bedside. He didn’t answer at first, but you called his name again; this time, in a more pressing manner.

“Megumi.”

“Hm?” He mumbled. It was so low, that your ears almost didn’t catch it.

“Is it too lame for a teenager to spend a Saturday evening with their mother?” You questioned.

With a slow, exhausted tone, Megumi said, “It’s not personal, Yuji just likes hanging out with Nobara-”

“No, I mean- sorry. You misunderstood me. I’m not asking you about Yuji. I’m asking you if you’d like to spend time with me. Just you and me.”

For a brief moment in time, Megumi didn’t respond, nor did the covers rise and fall with the movements of his body. The teenager was holding his breath.

Suddenly, he pulled the covers down. For the first time in what felt like ages, you could see his face. It both sparked internal fireworks of joy and snapped your heart into pieces. You were happy to finally see him, but the sight of his pale skin, eye bags, and absolute misery glistening within his eyes broke you.

For Megumi, hearing your offer to spend time alone with him was confusing.

“Why?” He asked.

“Because I want to have some quality time with you, silly. There’s a new cafe, just opened up down the street. I checked out their menu online and I really think you’d enjoy it,” you smiled at him. “Best black coffee in town, so I’ve heard.”

“Satoru must be busy,” Megumi mumbled, “If you’re asking me to go with you.”

“Satoru is napping with Maya and doing absolutely nothing with his life right now. I could go with him, but I want to go with you.”

It was no understatement to say that Megumi’s mind was often unkind to him. Right now, a thousand different thoughts were flooding in: Was this some sort of tactic to get him out of the house, leave him stranded somewhere, and tell him to never return? Or was it more so a Last Good Day sort of method, where you’d give him special treatment to lessen the incoming blow: hey kid, we don’t want you around anymore.

What if this was something else entirely?

What if this determined whether you’d love him as a son?

If he said no, if he continued to sulk in bed, would that make you despise him? Send him back to the unwelcoming school grounds run by, as Satoru called them, “conservative fools?” Reduce him to nothing more than an orphan once again?

But, maybe, just maybe, if he said yes . . . if he said yes, he could prevent that from happening. Maybe.

—

“Isn’t this nice?”

The quaint cafe was so new, Megumi could still smell the fresh paint, though it was faint. Beige and brown tones were broken up with green plants placed nearest the entrance, and the late afternoon sun only made the atmosphere that much more cozy.

Megumi stared down at the hot black coffee in his mug. “Did you really want to spend time with me, or did you just make that up?”

Your eyes snapped away from the menu in your hand. “Of course I want to spend time with you. Why are you having such a hard time believing that?” You wanted to reach out and touch his hand, but noting how he wasn’t the biggest fan of physical affection, you sought against it. “Megumi, what’s going on? Please talk to me. I’m trying to hide how worried I am, but I-”

“Well, well, well, you look like shit,” an unfamiliar voice started to speak — or, rather, unfamiliar to you, as Megumi’s face twisted into one of discomfort as a teenage boy approached your table. “Surprised to see you out of the infirmary for once, Megumi. You sure that coffee isn’t too hot for you? I bet you-”

“I’m going to stop you right there.” You put your menu down on the table, folding your hands. You gave the sorcerer student a threatening smile. “Please don’t speak that way to my son.”

“Son?” The black-haired bully started to chuckle. “Are you-”

“Yes. Son. Now walk away.”

“Who do you-”

“Walk away.”

There was no cursed energy involved, no cursed speech, yelling, or anything of the sort, and therefore, the stranger couldn’t determine what about your presence made him turn on his heel and head in the other direction. Perhaps, it was just plain old fear.

“I oughta put him in the infirmary,” you frowned, turning your eyes away from the retreating bully and back towards Megumi. “Who was that?”

“Just some jerk. Don’t worry about it,” he said.

Though he was an expert when it came to neutral and emotionless facial expressions, you tried to read him, and noted that, shockingly, a small, amused smile tried to tug on Megumi’s lips.

“What?” A confused grin appeared on your face.

“Nothing,” he took a sip of his coffee. “Um, thank you, by the way.”

“Of course.” Your smile fell into a more serious expression. “But back to what we were talking about. Why do you think I wouldn’t want to spend time with you?”

“I dunno,” he shrugged. “I’m just not as fun to be around as everyone else. Yuji, for example.”

The look on your face changed into one that was all too familiar. It was the look you gave him whenever he came back from a mission covered in bruises — the look of love and worry.

“Megumi, I need you to understand that Satoru and I adore everything about you. You are a joy to be around. You have this . . . this comforting and kind presence. We love your quietness just as much as we love Yuji’s hyperness. It just worries us when you shut us out completely. You won’t leave your bed, you won’t touch your food-”

“I know, I know,” Megumi took another sip of his coffee, avoiding your gaze.

“Please tell me why. I want to help.”

Megumi’s leg started to shake. He scratched at the skin surrounding his thumbnail.

“I just think you and Satoru will wake up someday. . .” he paused, taking a small breath. Right now, he wished he could die. “Wake up and realize you don’t want me around.”

Half of you expected some sort of punchline or fit of laughter to indicate that this was some kind of joke, but it never came. Your son only stared holes into the table.

“What? Why would you think something as ridiculous as that?” Your frown deepened. “Do you feel as if we don’t treat you well, or?”

“It’s nothing like that. I think you treat me better than I deserve,” Megumi scratched the back of his neck, though it wasn’t itchy. “But, I met Satoru when I was six. I met you the second you two started dating just one year later. I’ve been in your lives for years now, but you didn’t bother adopting me until you met Yuji last year. Don’t get me wrong, you and Satoru were teenagers when we met and he was nothing more than my teacher until recently, but I can’t help but think that I’m only here now because you would’ve felt too guilty had you adopted Yuji, and not me.”

The instrumental tunes playing softly within the cafe filled the silence as you took a moment to process Megumi’s words.

It was only for a couple of seconds, but to Megumi, it was enough time for him to start mentally preparing for the realization that, perhaps, he would be sleeping elsewhere tonight.

“Megumi, even when Satoru and I were just a few years older than you are now, we still tried our best to care for you as often as we could. I know it was nothing more than a warm meal every now and then or a new shirt for your birthday, but we still loved you.” Megumi looked up at you at long last, and you continued, “We should’ve adopted you sooner. You were always so independent and mature, so I guess we didn’t realize how much it would’ve meant to you. I’m sorry. But please don’t ever think we only adopted you because we wanted to adopt Yuji. Once we opened our minds to the idea of adoption in general, we adopted you because making you our son officially was a no-brainer. In our eyes, you were already our kid. Our very first kid. We love you.”

In our eyes, you were already our kid. Our very first kid. We love you.

Our very first kid.

We love you.

Those words were on a constant loop within Megumi’s mind like a broken record. The corners of his lips twitched, along with his eyebrows, and though his eyes were watery, it wasn’t from misery.

“I’m not used to anything like this . . . to people sticking around,” he couldn’t help but let one single tear fall.

“I know, hun. But you better get used it, because we’re not going anywhere. You’re not going anywhere.” Reaching out, you touched Megumi’s hand, stroking your thumb across his knuckles. He tensed, but he didn’t pull away. “C’mon, let’s order. And don’t you dare try to order the cheapest thing. Order something you actually want.”

The teenager nodded, discreetly wiping away another tear, and together, you both got up and headed for the counter.

—

Dining on cafe food was an enjoyable experience. Megumi didn’t finish his plate, but he ate around half of it — it was better than nothing.

After returning home, you rested your head in Satoru’s lap as you recounted the details of the late afternoon. You both stayed that way, doing nothing but softly and lovingly chatting with one another — and exchanging a few kisses — until evening fell. Yuji came home with 3D glasses on his head, a cup of soda in hand, and the scent of buttery popcorn all over his clothes. By then, Satoru was tucking his little girl into bed while Yuji rambled on to you about the movie he saw, all before taking a shower and preparing for bed himself.

A few hours later, every member of the Gojo household was fast asleep — except for you. Your back was pressed against the headboard of your enormous king-sized bed — bigger than a traditional king-sized, truth be told — and Satoru’s arm was draped across your lap as he slept on his stomach. You flipped another page of your novel.

Suddenly, a figure appeared in your doorway, visible thanks to the warm light of your touch-controlled lamp.

“Can’t sleep?” You asked.

Megumi shook his head, “another nightmare.”

Of course, your comforting words weren’t enough to undo the depression itself. However, the fact that Megumi was coming to you instead of lying awake, alone with his horrid thoughts, was progress. Great progress.

“Why don’t you try sleeping in here?” You offered a smile. “Would you be comfortable with that?”

Megumi nodded. He left briefly to grab his pillow and a blanket from his room, but when he returned and tossed it down on the floor, you frowned.

“No, no, no,” you objected. “I’d kick Satoru out of this bed before I let you sleep on the floor. There's plenty of room at the foot of the bed.”

Though he was hesitant at first, Megumi eventually crawled over your silk comforter with his blanket and pillow. It was true. The bed was big enough for him to lay across the bottom of it horizontally and not touch Satoru, who was well over six feet tall.

Soon enough, Megumi started to sleep.

But said sleep wasn’t peaceful.

Looking up from the pages of your book, you noticed Megumi was tossing and turning. His blanket was no longer draped over his body but knocked onto the floor.

That was enough for you to shove your bookmark into your novel. It thumped lightly when you closed it before placing it on your nightstand. You moved Satoru’s heavy arm off of your lap — he groaned, but he didn’t fully awaken.

Quietly, slowly, you approached your restless son. God, how the sight of him suffering made your heart ache. Grabbing the fuzzy blanket off of the floor, you tossed it back over him. Then, as gently as you could, you raised the boy’s head, sat down, and guided his head to your lap.

Your soft fingers alternated between stroking his forehead and his hair. Your motherly touch was soothing. Unfamiliar. Healing.

“Everything’s alright, Megumi,” you whispered. “We love you.”

Megumi’s thrashing started to calm down. In his sleep, he released a deep breath, and the muscles of his face started to relax with every gentle brush of your fingers.

For the first time in quite a while, your son slept peacefully for the rest of the night.

🏷️: @marvel-girl3 @goldenglow149 @luaqsv @sstoru @pinkfemdolly @satorusgummies @therealmrsgojo @leehriie @iminlovewqr0w @odessa-is-my-queen @melodycelos

[puck-luck]

Trevor gives off the vibes where he’d love just being in his girl even if it’s not sexual like they’ll just be sitting there watching tv and before you know it he’s inside of her and they’re just vibing together. I also feel like he’d be so into free use with his girl like he’ll be playing video games and she’ll get off while she uses him or she’ll be laying there reading and he’s just inside of her getting off on his own

4 + 1: Free Use with BF!Trevor

I.

After talking about it, you’ve taken to wearing thongs and an oversized t-shirt around the house. Trevor needs easy access, after all, and you had made a promise. 

You’re reading a book on the couch when he gets home from some Ducks event. You’re laying along the length of the cushions on your stomach, knees bent and ankles crossed, kicking your feet in the air aimlessly. The book is propped up against a throw pillow and you’re lazily turning the pages. 

When Trevor arrives home, you look up at him. “Hi, baby,” you greet. “Good day?”

He’s the perfect picture cuddly boyfriend, which is why he’d been late getting out of bed for this event in the first place. He hadn’t even had time to change. He’s still wearing those BU sweatpants you love so much and the white hoodie he’d found at the foot of your bed. 

Trevor offers you a complacent smile. “It was fine.” He walks over to the couch and pushes your legs down until they’re flat on the cushions. He collapses on top of your back, laying with his head just between your shoulder blades.

You let out a small chuckle, barely more than a puff of breath, and return to your book. You’re being pressed into the cushions by a lot more than gravity now, but you don’t mind. It’s nice to have your boyfriend so close, especially as he’s snaking his hands up the sides of your shirt and tracing your skin.

He kisses your spine. “Can I?” Trevor asks, his voice muffled and pouty against your back. He shifts up on his knees so he can press his hips to your ass.

It’s the first time that Trevor has wanted to do this since you talked about it. Free use. Goosebumps rise on your neck. 

“You don’t have to ask,” you remind Trevor, although it’s nice that he did since it’s the first time he’s actually going to use you like this. “‘m all yours, babe.”

Trevor hums proudly at that, pecking your shoulder before pulling away from you entirely. He leans back on his heels and pushes his sweats down. 

You look again to your book. You can feel Trevor stroking himself to his full hardness and you bite your bottom lip. You’re wet thinking about how Trevor just wants to be inside of you, to treat you like no more than a hole to be filled when he wants to fill it, but you’re not particularly inclined to participate. That’s the whole point, after all, isn’t it?

He pushes your legs apart, then settles between them. The blunt tip of his cock probes your entrance and sinks into you.

The drag is harsh and it gets harder and harder to read as Trevor becomes more drunk on this feeling. You feign nonchalance. 

Trevor grips your hips and drives his cock into your heat over and over and over again. There’s no regard for you, for your pleasure. It’s only about his pleasure and, honestly, that makes you feel good. Trevor’s climax, in this state, means much more to you than your own. As long as he’s feeling good, then you’re happy to be used.

He doesn’t waste time on anything other than chasing his orgasm. You get to hear Trevor in his purest state– this is like fucking his own fist in complete privacy, but instead, he’s fucking into you. You get to hear all of his grunts and groans and puffs of breath and stifled whimpers, all of which he makes when you’re together too, but he likes to make them more manly and sexy when he’s putting on a show for you. Truth be told, you like these better. You like that Trevor can’t stop the stutter of his hips and the keen that escapes his mouth as he starts to shoot off inside of you.

You love how he moves to bracket your ribs with his arms, palms flat on the couch. His hips continue to move as he works through his orgasm, cum dribbling from his tip into your cunt. Trevor’s lips find your neck, your shoulder, your spine… he plants grateful kiss after grateful kiss to your back until his movements slow to pure stillness and Trevor lays against you.

His cock remains inside, acting like a plug to keep the cum from leaking out of you onto the couch. Trevor hooks his nose over your shoulder. “I hope I didn’t disturb your reading,” Trevor mumbles. He takes some of the fabric of your shirt in his mouth, tugging on it. “Couldn’t resist.”

II. 

“Hey, babe, c’mere,” Trevor calls from down the hall.

“What, Trev?” you reply. You scrunch your hair in a towel, having just gotten out of the shadow a few minutes prior. When he doesn’t reply, you roll your eyes and leave the bathroom, making your way into Trevor’s game room. “What, Trev,” you repeat in a more exasperated voice.

He looks over his shoulder and moves one of his headphones to the side. His face splits into a grin. “Oh, good. Take your towel off and come here.” He spreads his legs, scooting back in his wheely chair so you can fit partially beneath the desk. “I want to use your mouth.”

You stare at him blankly for a moment, then shake your head and chuckle. “Really?”

Trevor nods and lifts his hips enticingly. 

“Are you going to game while I suck you off?” you ask.

Trevor nods again and smiles wide. 

You start to laugh again, walking over to where he sits and putting your hands on his knees. You bend at the waist and peck his lips before sliding to your knees. 

Trevor grabs a hairtie from the desk and ties your hair into the world’s most hurried bun. Then, he leans back in his chair and picks up his controller. He puts his headphones back over both ears and resumes his game. He lifts his hips as you start to drag his waistband down. 

You lick Trevor’s tip slowly with the flat of your tongue, peeking up through your eyelashes as you do and catching the way the corners of his mouth turn up. His eyes stay on the screen. 

The hair on Trevor’s thighs is soft and you pet through it as you slide his cock into your throat. You scratch your nails gently over his skin, closing your eyes and starting to bob your head. Trevor’s cock is thick and tastes slightly salty as precum oozes from his tip and seeps into your warm mouth.

Trevor’s breath is deep and his expression remains mostly unaffected. You aim to change that.

You swallow him down as much as you can. Trevor’s cock flexes with your swallow, filling all the space that you give him. You gag, but force your way down until your lips are wrapped around Trevor’s base. You lift your eyes to his face and find Trevor’s gaze on you, wide smirk on his face.

“Showing off?” Trevor asks knowingly.

Stilted by the cock in your mouth, you shake your head. 

“Then fuck your mouth for me, will ya?” Trevor instructs goodnaturedly, nudging you with his foot and grinning at you. 

You choke a little bit on Trevor’s cock when you laugh at his words, but you pull off and put your mouth to work.

You lay your hand flat on Trevor’s hip and caress his abdomen with your thumb, bobbing your head up and down. His tip knocks into the back of your throat as you push yourself down, alternating between lathering your tongue over his tip and deepthroating him until you have to pull off and gasp for breath. 

Trevor plays on. You can hear the clicking of his controller and the way he’ll let out an annoyed groan whenever something goes wrong on the screen.

You lap at his tip and fit your lips around his crown, sucking softly and flicking the tip of your tongue over his slit, collecting the precum there and begging for more to come out and coat your tongue. You hum and take him down about halfway, drawing your fingers gently up and down the rest of his shaft. You’re barely touching him in this moment, just ghosting over his veins and ridges. When you take him all the way down, you cup his balls and roll them in your palm. When you give them a squeeze, Trevor’s cock jumps in your mouth.

It’s the first physical reaction, beside how hard his length is, that you’ve gotten from Trevor.

You repeat the actions over and over. Trevor’s cock is steadily leaking precum now, the taste filling your mouth, and you can feel his pulse growing more and more rapid on your tongue. You breathe through your nose, choking yourself on Trevor’s length and allowing spit to drip down his cock until he’s positively coated. 

Massaging the vein on the underside of Trevor’s cock with the flat your tongue, you swallow around his tip. His cock jerks again, bumping into the roof of your mouth a telltale three, four, five times before pearly white cum shoots down your throat in long, thick threads.

You swallow around him until Trevor is done coming and there’s nothing left in your throat but the aftertaste. 

You kneel back on your heels and use the momentum to make your way to your feet, pecking Trevor’s mouth again and heading back to the bathroom to finish your post-shower routine.

III. 

You’re wearing Trevor’s pink sweatshirt, the one with Roman numerals on the breastbone, and chopping up vegetables for a pasta sauce. You’ve already got four tomatoes halved and thrown in the blender, plus an onion that you cut into quarters. There are a few cloves of garlic thrown into the blender with those veggies and you’re about to start blending them, once you finish chopping this carrot into fine little pieces. Really, you’re just trying to blend all of your veggies that are about to go bad together so that they don’t go to waste. Even if it tastes like shit, your boyfriend is like a vaccuum when it comes to any kind of food, and he’ll eat as much as you give him.

It’s been a couple of months since you and Trevor started this free use journey and you’ve stopped wearing underwear altogether when you’re around the house. Trevor has ruined a few pairs already, by stretching them out or physically ripping them off of your body due to his lack of patience, and you’d rather not have to buy new underwear every other month. 

It’s lucky that you’re wearing nothing, given how Trevor walks in the front door after practice and drops everything where he stands before beelining to you. He presses his face into your hair and breathes in deeply, shoving his hands up the sweatshirt and kneading your boobs.

“Long day?” you ask, chuckling and chopping up the final pieces of carrot before putting the knife to the side. You pick up handful after handful of carrots and toss them in the blender, eventually wiping your hands on the teatowel you’d thrown on the counter after washing the tomatoes. 

“The longest,” Trevor replies. One of his hands leaves your chest, retreating to pull his cock out of his pants. He fists the base and rubs his tip against your folds until he’s hard and straining and you’re slick enough for him to press inside.

You’re doing your best to pour a dash of vegetable oil and a bit of heavy cream into the blender so that the vegetables blend more easily, but Trevor has started to thrust against you. The carton of heavy cream slips and you pour way more than you wanted to, but you catch your mistake before the sauce will be too creamy. You close the carton with one hand, using the other to find purchase on the counter and brace yourself for Trevor’s bucking hips.

He notices your stiffness and slips his hand back up to your boob, holding both in his hands and keeping you in place so that you don’t have to. “Sorry, baby, I’ll be quick,” Trevor murmurs with a kiss to the back of your neck. “I needed this.”

“Don’t apologize, Trev,” you say. “You feel good. Take what you need, sweet boy.” You press the button on the blender and the loud whirring fills the room, but you can feel the puffs of Trevor’s breath on your neck and his low moans next to your ear. 

He pinches your nipples beneath the sweatshirt and the feeling travels through your body to your pussy, squeezing Trevor tight. He swivels his hips against you, grinding deep before he draws back and starts to pound into you again. His forehead meets your spine. You can practically feel how close he is already, even though it’s only been a few minutes. He just needs a release after a long day and you’re more than willing to offer that to him.

You press your hips back and watch Trevor’s reaction in the glass of the blender. As he throws his head back and furrows his eyebrows, jaw dropping open, his hips drive into you in a slower, harder, more precise way. His body claps against yours and you turn off the blender just as Trevor comes, moaning out loud and flooding your cunt with his seed. 

You transfer the blended sauce into the pan on the stove and hit a few buttons, setting it on low heat as Trevor pulls his cock from your pussy and watches the cum drip from your hole. He pushes it back in with his fingers, then guides his softening cock to your entrance and fills you again. He stays behind you like that as the sauce simmers, playing with your boobs and kissing your neck as you dump the strained pasta into the sauce and mix them together. 

“That looks good,” Trevor mumbles. He kisses the space right behind your ear. “You’re so good to me.”

You giggle when his breath tickles the shell of your ear, shivering at the sensation. You turn the noodles over in the sauce. “It’s ‘cause I love you,” you tell him.

Trevor brings a hand to your clit, circling his fingers. “Gonna get you back after we eat,” Trevor says. “Make you come a couple of times.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” you reply. You reach for the teatowel and hang it over your shoulder. “Now, clean me up and put this in the laundry after, will you?”

IV.

The next time Trevor needs you like that, you’re asleep in bed. He didn’t expect you to be up waiting for him. That’s a honeymoon phase thing– you guys have been dating for a while. You’ve gotten into fights. You’ve been living together for a while now. You both have seen the best and worst parts of each other over time, and you’ve gotten comfortable enough in this relationship that you and Trevor are both perfectly okay with your not waiting up for him after every game.

But after a long east coast roadie, Trevor has been missing you. You look so pretty in his big t-shirt. When he peels back the covers, Trevor sees that it has ridden up to show off your stomach. Like you’ve been expecting him, your legs are spread apart and, as always, you’re not wearing panties. 

Trevor smiles. You’re ready for him. 

He bends down and kisses your cheek, then moves slowly to the other. He slides into bed with you, having stripped down to his boxers already, and shifts between your legs. He rolls his hips down into your core, his clothed bulge gliding against your folds.

You stir, the hand resting next to your face on the pillow coming up to blearily wipe at your eyes. “Trevor?” you rasp, confused and sleepy. 

“Hi, sweetheart, sorry for waking you,” Trevor whispers. He purses his lips and brushes them against yours. 

“S’okay,” you reply. “How was the game tonight?”

“It was fine.” Trevor kisses down your neck and brings his fingers to your slit. “I missed you.”

He can feel your cheeks shifting as your lips widen into a smile. “You are such a horny guy,” you tease.

Trevor pushes a finger into your heat, feeling the slide grow easier with each thrust. “Can’t help it when my girl is so pretty,” he says. 

“Hmm,” you hum. “Be quick. Wanna cuddle.” You close your eyes and take a deep breath, lifting one of your legs and wrapping it around his waist. 

Trevor leaves his lips in contact with your cheek as he pulls his finger from your body and fishes his cock out of his boxers, fucking into your pussy at an unhurried pace. You’re so warm and tight; Trevor hasn’t fucked you in days and he knows he won’t last an impressive amount of time. You told him to be quick anyway. Once his pelvis is flush with yours, Trevor breathes in deeply through his nose and kisses down the curve of your neck. He wraps his arms around your middle and splays his fingers across your lower back, lifting you slightly to provide a better angle for your pleasure… although he’s admittedly not aiming to get you off right now.

Trevor rocks forward in aborted movements. Your gummy inner walls hug his cock tightly, rubbing against the nerve endings along his shaft and tip in a way that has him panting in just minutes. 

Your hand comes up to the nape of his neck, pushing into his hair. He feels like he can feel your nails scratching his scalp better now that he cut his hair shorter, even though that’s nonsensical. You sigh contentedly in his ear, chest rising and brushing his. “Fill me up, T,” you croon, pulling him even closer with the leg wrapped around his waist. “Know you want to. I’ll keep your cum inside all night and you can fuck me again in the morning. I’ll ride you, hm? How’s that?”

Trevor feels his cock throb, feels his balls grow tighter just before you clench down on him and he shoots off inside of you. Trevor feels like his brain turns to mush as he comes, his limbs loosening and lips smushing against your skin. He lays atop you when his cock is done twitching and leaking, breathing in the smell of your shampoo and soap and the natural smell that is so you. He could fall asleep right here.

You push at his shoulder and insist that he sleeps on his side of the bed rather than on top of you. 

Still, Trevor pulls you into his side and falls asleep with his nose against the crown of your head.

V.

You’ve been feeling especially feral today. You’re not sure why, but every time you look at Trevor, a lightning strike travels through your body and the energy settles riiight between your legs. 

He’s not even doing anything hot. You’re actually pretty sure you saw him biting his nails earlier and that itch on his nose might have been him digging for gold. You are not sure and you’d looked away so that you could give yourself the benefit of the doubt and convince yourself that, yes, he’d just been itching his nose. Nothing more than that. He’s not that gross. He might be a boy, but he’s not that gross. Surely.

Even if he is a gross, disgusting boy who bites his nails and might pick his nose when he thinks no one is looking… you’re absolutely feral for him today. 

Trevor is sitting on the couch watching TV. His legs are spread wide, creating a nice space just for you.

You’re sitting on the other end, torn between scrolling on your phone and staring at your boyfriend. You think you’re caught staring when Trevor’s hand shifts to his lap and covers his cock, the slight bulge of which you could see in his boxer-briefs. Your eyes widen, then your gaze flies to his face. 

And Trevor is just staring at the TV. He gives his cock an absentminded squeeze and moves his fingers over his length briefly, then stretches his arm out over the back of the couch.

You suddenly blink to yourself and draw your eyebrows together. Why the fuck are you still turned on by a man who just scratched his balls right in front of you?

You need to get this out of your system or else you’re going to be distracted for the rest of the day. So, for the first time, you approach your boyfriend and straddle his lap, planting yourself on his cock and grinding down. 

Trevor is delighted by this turn of events, you can tell by the silly smile on his face. His hands come to your sides and pinch your hips. “Hey, pretty girl,” he greets, his attention now on you rather than the screen.

“Take your cock out,” you command before tugging your shirt over your head and dropping it on the coffee table. “I want you to suck my tits while I fuck myself on it.”

Trevor’s eyes light up and he lifts his hips, shuffling his briefs down until his cock springs free. You can see it reacting to your presence and you wonder, very quickly, if he’s still itchy at all. You stamp the thought down and forget it as soon as it comes, rising up on your knees and lining his cock up with your entrance. 

Since you’ve been turned on all day, your pussy has been ready to accept Trevor since the moment you clambered onto his lap. Once aligned, you sink down and take him. You move your hips in figure-eights, gyrating and finding the pleasure you enjoy. When you’re riding Trevor in an effort to make him come, you’ll bounce– but that’s never brought a climax to your body on its own. No, for you, it feels better when you rock your hips and roll your pelvis forward in a scooping motion, punctuated by a series of bounces here and there just to shake things up.

You close your eyes and lean your head back, facing the ceiling in a relaxed pose. You can feel yourself being consumed by the movement of Trevor’s cock inside of you and how it presses against sensitive spot after sensitive spot.

You’re sure if you look down right now, Trevor will be staring at you like he’s looking into the face of God. When you’d first talked about free use, he’d made it very clear that he didn’t want it to just be about him. He spoke at length about how if you wanted to use him, he’d be more than willing. In fact, over the time that you guys have been practicing this newfound kink, Trevor has had to remind you that he wants to be used. You’re finally doing it.

He fulfills your request shortly after you find your groove. His teeth encircle your nipple and tug, his hands wrapping around your back and pulling you closer like he just can’t get enough. He alternates between your breasts, licking and sucking until your nipples are wet, straining, and aching with pleasure. 

Your stomach thrums with excitement, clit swollen and making contact with Trevor’s abdomen when you swivel your hips just right. You repeat the motion over and over again until it’s just not enough, snaking a hand between your bodies so that you can rub your fingers over the bundle of nerves in rapid passes. You make a soft noise halfway between a whine and a squeal when the balloon of tension in your gut explodes and forces your eyes, closed as they are, to the back of your head. You swear that if your vision wasn’t black, you’d be able to see the back of your skull with how strong his orgasm is. 

Trevor moans against your tits, bucking up twice and spilling into your heat, adding to the mixture of warmth that is coursing through your body and making you feel like jelly. You sag against him and Trevor holds you tight, burying his face between your breasts and kissing your sternum. He stays there for only a moment before kissing a line up your neck to your lips. “Fuck, that was so sexy,” Trevor breathes out. “Let’s do it again.”

i need to write a dom trevor fic soon bc hot so we might see some free use in that too, these were all pretty soft so

[vaspider]

Oh my G-d, you have no idea. Even if something is marked "gluten-free" at the store, I have to stop and look at the ingredients list for Hidden Gluten & also check for shared facility warnings.

There's a corn dog food cart near us that trumpets their gluten-free corn dogs, but they put them in the same fryer. If I get a salad at a sit-down restaurant, I have to make sure that I say, "i have celiac disease - no croutons, and please ask the cooks to use a clean prep bowl and change their gloves."

I am lucky in that I actually live in one of the best cities in the world for people with celiac disease. Portland, OR, has a ton of fully gluten-free restaurants and bakeries, and I can go into the local New Seasons (upscale grocery store) and pick up freshly-baked treats made at New Cascadia or Gluten-Free Gem* to take home, which is... unbelievable compared to living in Philly, tbh. There are even a couple of places near us that are totally gluten-free and vegan, which means my brother and I can order the entire menu without worrying, a really singularly incredible experience.

It has had the side effect of making me really empathetic towards other people's food needs. In 2025, I'm working on making gluten-free and vegan versions of as much of the Family Cookbook as I can.

Also: celiac disease isn't an allergy. It's an autoimmune disorder. This is part of why people get so shitty with celiacs: we don't immediately react or have an anaphylaxic reaction, so people treat us like we are faking. Specifically, the reaction happens when glutenated food hits the small intestine, so whatever is going to happen usually has about a 45-minute delay. So we can eat and leave the restaurant and then we feel horrible later but the server who fucked with our food will only see us being okay and think, "ugh, I hate fakers," you know?

All of that said, as much of a pain in the ass as it is, it really does become second nature very fast. I always have food on me at all times bc you just never know when you'll be stuck in traffic unexpectedly & I can't just pull off at a gas station and expect to find something other than candy to put in my face. I know what to look for on labels. There are apps that are great for finding restaurants. Etc.

*local dedicated bakeries, both founded by people with celiac family members

This is at best highly unproven and correlated as of this date, and most experts think this is about as true as "vaccines cause autism" and for similar reasons. We aren't "more sensitive to wheat." Kids who would have died young 100 years ago, labeled as 'failure to thrive,' are now getting diagnosed with celiac disease and surviving.

There does appear to possibly be a link between PFA levels in the blood and celiac disease, but it may be correlation only.

For your future information, here are medical innovations younger than both the basics of HRT for trans ppl & the first gender-reassignment/gender-confirmation surgery. I put together this incomplete list earlier today bc I was bored:

all organ transplants

most modern vaccines, including the polio vaccine

the gluten-free diet as a treatment for celiac disease

synthetic insulin

oral contraceptives

MRIs

the concept of a "blood bank"

pacemakers

hydrocortisone

ibuprofen

diazepam

artificial hearts

sumatriptan

naproxen (Aleve)

tramodol

dialysis

ECT

ondansetron (Zofran)

chemotherapy

IVF

CPR

CT scans

transdermal patches

liposuction

intravascular stents

penicillin

In case you run into someone talking about how 'experimental' HRT is.

[randomness-is-my-order]

there are some people who unironically believe that no one except wei wuxian and lan wangji got their “happy ending” and the rest of the cast (consisting majorly of antagonists and characters who had previously suffered no consequences for their actions) getting any degree of miserable conclusions is unfair. to which i must wonder... do they realise that for thirteen years before the second timeline began in full swing, these positions were completely reversed and wei wuxian literally died and lan wangji was faced with the most brutal punishment a member of the great sects could be faced with? that we were given a taste of what a “happy ending” could look like for characters like jin guangyao, lan xichen, jiang cheng and the fact that it blew up in flames demonstrates exactly how no one deserves a bump-free aftermath if it means their actions have gone unaddressed.

if our protagonist and deuteragonist were not spared consequences—truly “no good deed goes unpunished”—what makes people think that the characters who were the antagonists and on the fringes and allowed atrocities to occur should get a scot-free end? mind you, i still think alot of people get a mere slap on the wrist for the magnitude of harm they have caused but that is consistent with the themes of the gentry class receiving leniency in every aspect possible.

look, i get wanting your favourite characters to have “good” endings but just think for a second about what these characters have done and why their finish line in the story looks the way it does. what would the weight of mdzs’ narrative remain if after all the rotten actions of people in power were exposed, all the wilful negligence was brought to light, these characters were allowed to go back to normalcy and immediately find a way to enjoy life as if nothing was amiss? as if their actions were meant only to affect other people and never their ownselves? and even then, the thing to remember is that mdzs’ ending is just one point in time. much like the “ending” of the first timeline, things go on, life goes on and characters like jiang cheng and lan xichen won’t stagnate till eternity—they will move past their circumstances shown in the end of the novels, for better or for worse.

it’s not that wei wuxian and lan wangji get to enjoy their happy ending while the rest suffer because in actuality, they have paid the prices for their actions threefold, they have faced their consequences and why should they not get some morsel of happiness after everything they have endured? as wei wuxian rightfully asked the sect leaders—what more would you want from him? why should he not be allowed this more pleasant conclusion because some think his happiness is a slight against the antagonists’ “misery” and feel compelled to have them flattened to the same level to ignore acknowledging why they received the endings that they did?

[enidtendo64]

How do you picture Dipcifica happening in Reverse Falls?

Got so excited about this question spent all my free time today making all this

I think it’d be funny if in reverse fashion, instead of hatred to begrudging partnership to liking each other the way Dipcifica kind of does in canon, in rev!falls they IMMEDIATELY get along. Which maybe just an excuse for me to just do cute stuff for them but I think it’s funny so!

Dipper sees her in the crowd, immediately clocks that she must be new since this town doesn’t have anyone or anything new or interesting about it except for them (the twins, the Pines family, etc.) and after some plot relevant things, there’s a begrudging and slowly growing friendship between the Pines and Pacifica and Gideon.

But specifically towards Dipper and Pacifica, Dipper is a prick. But beneath that he’s also still the Dipper we know, albeit grown up differently. Still nerdy, curious about weird anomalies of the world but a little more somber and edgy about it. Completely nerdy about magic—not real magic like their amulets let him do, but sleight of hand magic tricks real magicians learn. Pacifica, completely unphased by some of the most bizarre shit that could happen because in this universe Florida is the weirdness magnet area, she’s more impressed about his sleight of hand tricks, his knowledge on obscure history and science and nerdy pop culture facts, and thinks it’s funny and cute he’s so high maintenance. They get along well, and as intimidating as he can get (which is surprising bc in the main au he is still 12, then again he’s also a murderer?) she’s meeting all his remarks with her own brand of blunt ass and teasing, since yknow it’s still Dipcifica, just a different flavor. And while she may say silly things, he actually takes her seriously too, which makes them feel like there’s some equality in their relationship which is why they get along so well almost right off the bat!

Too bad in the reverse!falls equivalent of Northwest Mansion Mystery, Pacifica finds out Dipper (and Mabel) have been lying to her throughout the whole summer and made her think she did something when in fact it was orchestrated by the twins in the first place to manipulate and blackmail her. I don’t wanna spend too much on it since I haven’t fully thought much of it but basically Dipper has to double down that he’ll do ANYTHING for his family, which means throwing her under the bus. And he doubles down saying that everything they shared in the summer, their friendship leading to more type of relationship, was all just lies to use her because she was the best way they could find William Cipher (listen, about the name, i am not creative ok).

Of course we know that’s not the full truth, yes the Pines family are willing to do anything for each other, but it doesn’t mean Dipper didn’t genuinely love and appreciate the friendship/relationship he had with Pacifica, and even to some extent Gideon too. It’s kind of his flaw that he’ll do some heinous shit and justify it as something he does for the people he loves, but now he’s starting to love someone else that is directly an opposition to something that’s for the family he loves so much and…..well…..

Anyways, it’s ok bc the rev!falls equivalent for Not What He Seems comes after, there is a tentative sort of truce between them? Maybe? But Dipper will have to spend most of the rest of that summer (and probably the next couple of years) on his knees begging for forgiveness cause yeeesh. It’s ok, Mabel’s down there with him too. Gideon actually forgives a lot more easily towards the twins but Pacifica…..that’s gonna be a while.

But yeah sorry that took a long time to get back to, but hopefully to compensate here’s some pics of what I’m talking about with them. Feel free to ask more about them I’m kind of getting really back into Reverse Falls lol

[punishedgwyndolin]

i'm confused at what you mean about the 'don’t you hate it when there’s a post about women characters in media and people tag it with ‘males they think should be women’' post.

i understand that 'males that people think are women' is absolutely transmisogynistic and that tme people throw phrases like that around knowing full well what kind of phrasing it is, and that it's bad.

but like, what are we supposed to say when a person makes a post about women, someone inevitably tags it 'dean winchester' or 'tony stark' and then when people say 'dean winchester and tony stark are men' they respond with 'they're women to ME.'

but like, they're not actually women to you. you just use words like babygirl to make it seem less shitty that you refuse to engage with female characters. that's a far gap from actual transfem characters, canon or headcanon. isn't it?

i don't wanna hurt any trans women ever, and i know that it must be frustrating when people ask for education on things like this, so feel free not to answer.

you’re good! the problem my post was talking about is centered around the response to the babygirl type shit. im fully aware of the babygirl foolishness which largely operates completely separate from actual transfem headcanons. MY problem comes from people responding to this annoyance with by falling into their pre existing biases and using bioessentialist language or other playing along to transmisogynistic sentiment.

because male and female essentially mean nothing and you should not be seriously using them as categories/classes of people. there’s no inherent anything to people who are classed as such. because a solid chunk of the people making and reblogging those posts were not actively trying to be transmisogynistic and some reblogs were even trans women; they just didn’t realize, notice, or care about the implications that what they were saying ran on

[zepskies]

Aww yay!! Thank you so much, lovely. 🥹💕 Please don't apologize, I love it!! 😍

I wish he was real at least once a day, I wanna give him a bunch of little kisses all over his face so bad 😩💗

God, right??! 😩 I'd smother him with affection lmao. 💋

I loveee this. <33 honestly the concept of traditional bachelor/bachelorette parties make zero sense to me, like wdym last night of freedom??? i'd simply cancel the wedding, go be free lmaoo 🙂‍↔️🤚🏽

Girl I'm with you!! If you're in a relationship about to get married, what is this "freedom??" 🥴🥴 I feel like Sam would think the same way lol.

ohhh I felt this to my coreeeee 😭 ( those 'fake nice' mean girls are the worst like it gets to a point you'd just prefer them to be straight up lol)

Exaaaaaclty! 😫 You know who I'm talking about here. lol I think we've all encountered those "fake nice" mean girls at some point.

now I understand that this is probably a wild thing to highlight, however, it's making me giggle so bad after knowing how the rest of the chapter goes 🤣 his intuition is on point lmfaooo with that being said, I truly adore their connection. 💓 it's so genuine and comfortable <33 and that spiceeee, it had me blushing ❤️‍🔥🫠 so good 🫶🏽

Ahahaa I'm actually glad you highlighted that part because that's exactly what that was -> foreshadowing for things to...er...come. 😝

Aww I'm so happy you're enjoying their connection so far! Even though it's a one-night stand, it is coming from a genuine place. Glad you liked the sexy stuff to go along with it too. 😘❤️‍🔥

you tell him sammy !! I completely understand focusing on training but a simple text message could have sufficed dean ._.

Right?! Sam's the voice of reason as always lol, while Dean's a bit of a hot mess in this story. 😆

I understand why she did this but still, aagh ☹️ my hopeless hearttt lol

I knowwwww - she did that thing of "let me just lie a bit so I can save some face with this man and not let him know that I was actually really into him and don't just wanna be his fuck buddy." While Dean is just as frustrating, not being clear that he's asking her out on a date, not a hookup lol.

deeeep sigh 😔 (nothing against canon lisa lol)

Ahahaa yep this Lisa is not exactly canon Lisa, I'll say that. 😅

And Dean Dean Dean...

considering the lovely story banner I should have guessed, but this really did surprise me somehow lollll 😭 (perhaps the gif distracted me 🤣)

Hahaaa honestly I love that you were still surprised!! 😜 (It's ok, that gif had me hypnotized sometimes when I was making the header lol)

aww sammy 🥺 he's such a sweetheart, I love him. also I can totally picture that 💀

Sam's a real sweetie for sure. 🥹 You already know he'd give Dean hell if he didn't promise to help her and be there for his baby. 💗💗

~Bitch Face Activated~

lmfaoooooo dean pls 🤣 gotta love that sibling analysis

ahaha thank you for highlighting that line because that was one of my favorites for Dean. 🤣 I think I just like the alliteration of "Big Bird body language."

i'd be blaming her for sure because how is she gonna be mad at something that happened before she was in the picture, then continue to be mad as if she's not actively choosing to stay, which is wild to me considering it's only been two months 💀 (she low-key reminds me of mona from friends 😩)

Yes you're seeing my Friends parallels in this one loll. Very much the Ross/Rachel surprise pregnancy situation, with Mona and Joey (as Benny) thrown into the mix. 😆😆

this could just be my anger issues talking but the urge to bitch slap her has appeared and it only intensified the more she talked 🤠 nothing more irritating than thinly veiled insults and backhanded comments. and how dare she do this, not just to another woman, but a pregnant woman? i'd cuss her out so quick like ho is you cool?? pack it up and put it away nobody asked for your projections negative nelly 🤚🏽

Oh definitely this is the worst Lisa lmao. There's nothing worse than unsolicited health/weight loss advice, especially to a pregnant lady, and ESPECIALLY from someone who has never had a baby and doesn't know anything about childbirth. 🙄 Lisa's 31 flavors of out of line on this one, but no matter how much she wants to hit back, the reader here is holding her tongue mainly because she doesn't want to create more of a mess for Dean. 🥲

oh god my patience could neverrr 😭 it may be a bit irrational, but I would be so upset like you just kissed your gf, do not touch me sir. 🤠more importantly though, how are you going to juggle a new relationship with another woman and be truly committed to all the responsibilities of a new baby? :/ oh dean

And you'd totally be in your right to feel that way. 🥲 Dean's trying to be considerate, he just doesn't know how to navigate this situation very well. 🤣 (Clearly he's never had to deal with real emotions with women before.)

oooo I woulda smacked her hand away, like don't touch me you sneaky wench 🤺

"sneaky wench" got me so hard! 🤣

awww, i wanna give her a huuuuuug :(( honestly he's so real for this lolll

Aww so does Dean (and a lot more lol). 🥲

this was a great first chapter! the preview for the next part has me intrigued, and a bit confused 😅 i’m really looking forward to seeing how this plays out <333

Thank you so very much, friend!! Haha I don't blame you for being confused with the sneak peek, but you shall see. *rubs hands together* There's LOTS of drama yet to unfold in Part 2...

IF I STAY - Part 1

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus-Sized!Reader

Summary: Your dream is to work with kids as an elementary school teacher. Dean is well on his way to becoming a firefighter, keeping things light and “strings unattached” as he goes. After a one-night stand you never saw coming, you and Dean are forced to deal with the consequences…and figure out if the connection between you is worth fighting for.

AN: Yes, here’s another firefighter AU! Based on a request from one of my lovely Patreon members: @redhoodieone. She requested pretty much all the major beats of this story, so hopefully I did her request justice! This is also partially inspired by Fools Rush In, a beautiful movie with Salma Hayek and Matthew Perry (Rest in Peace, King).

Song Inspo: “I Can’t Help Falling in Love” by Elvis

Word Count: 8.7K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, thick thirty, hints of body insecurity, but also body appreciation, angst, and hurt/comfort.

❤️‍🔥 If I Stay Masterlist

Part 1: Fools Rush In

Slowly, your eyes slide open into the waking world. Your head is resting on something warm, firm…and a little sweaty. You pick your head up, despite the disorienting, muddy feeling of a slight hangover.

A groan bubbles in your throat. Your gaze travels downward, and you realize that what you’re looking at is more of a who.

Your eyes widen. Oh…my…God…

Not only are you very naked, but your firm pillow is too. It happens to be your best friend’s brother.

Yes, holy fucking shit! You slept with your best friend’s brother.

Biting the inside of your lip, you can’t help but take him in, here in the raw light of day as he lays peacefully on his back. His head lolls to the side on your usual pillow. Your eyes roam over the bow of his lips, the dark eyebrows, lightish brown hair that's softer than it should be between your fingers.

He’s painfully handsome. There’s a slight hesitation in your touch, but you softly trace the cut of his jaw and the stubble spread across it. That roughness feels familiar, and not just under the pads of your fingers, though the thought makes you blush. You begin to remember the night before, almost like a movie reel through your mind… 

Ooooh, right. That’s what happened.

It starts at Sam Winchester’s joint bachelor-bachelorette party at a nice hotel downtown. He and Eileen aren't the "strippers and coke" kind of party couple. They're more the "wine and brie en croute with pickled olives" on the expensive crackers you can't afford—kind of couple.

They look perfectly in love, if a bit long-suffering while Dean gives a hilarious, somewhat inappropriate, but still ultimately heartwarming toast to their happiness. After lowering the glass of champagne from his lips, his gaze catches on yours in the crowd. You suck in a subtle breath. 

Technically you’ve met him already, being one of Eileen’s bridesmaids, but there’s something about his green eyes that pin you to the floor. When he hands over the mic to Lisa Braeden, Eileen’s Maid of Honor, his head turning away from you to offer her a smile breaks the spell. It allows you to breathe.

Dean later finds you by the bar. You’re drinking a rum and coke with your slice of cake, trying not to get a single crumb on your dress. You've put a lot of work into affording it, let alone fitting in it. He leans his elbows casually on the counter and looks over at you.

“Hey, how’s it going?” he nods at you with a smile, subtly taking you in first. Then, his eyes go to your plate. “Ooh, red velvet. Gotta get me some of that.”

You smile back at him. “It’s pretty good.”

“Yeah, looks good in your hand,” he says, adding a teasing wink for good measure.

You don't know why that does it for you, but a half-flattered, half-nervous laugh tumbles out of your mouth. Sam has warned you before about Dean. Apparently his older brother is a bit of a flirt; a ladies’ man.

A man whore, are the words Eileen used.

You’re honestly surprised he’s talking to you when Eileen’s other bridesmaids, Lisa and Jo, are sipping martinis together down at the other end of the bar. Guess they didn’t want cake.

They look beautiful in their lithe, strapless little cocktail dresses. You’ve had to give up chocolate, bread, and cheese for three months straight to fit into this dress, something slinky and red that drapes over your thicker, curvy figure. But you’re proud of the fact that you’re letting yourself eat cake tonight, even though you’ve often felt like Mrs. Doubtfire while standing for pictures next to Lisa and Jo.

They’re Eileen’s friends, not so much your crowd. No matter how much you’ve tried to get to know them while helping the wedding planning in whatever way you can, you still get a high school clique vibe from the women, if with more “polite smiles.” Then they’ll typically go back to talking about crystal centerpieces—or whatever in-depth conversation they were having before you were there. 

But right now, Dean’s focus is on you. When he asks you more about yourself, you tell him about recently earning an elementary education degree.

“Ah, but you already knew that, because Sam told you we graduated college together,” you realize, with warmth tingeing your cheeks. That subject came up pretty quickly when he introduced you to his brother.

Dean’s smile confirms your suspicions, so you just keep filling the silence on reflex.

“Well, I actually just started teaching my first ever semester of second graders. They’re a bit of a handful, but overall, they’re really sweet.” Your smile falters. “Except for this one kid who likes to put little tacks on my chair. He’s kind of a menace, but I think if I bribe him with enough lollipops, he’ll give it a rest. I mean, it’s a behavioral issue and I should probably call his parents. But it's kind of hard to tell them their son is trying to make my ass into a pincushion."

Dean's laugh comes out in a sharp burst, like he wasn't expecting what just came out of your mouth. You didn't either, honestly. You giggle more out of embarrassment, ducking your head.

"He’s in second grade, you know?" you say, in between laughter. "I don't think that little footnote needs to end up on his permanent record. But then there's Micah. He's so friggin' smart. He can read at the fifth grade level already. Can you believe that? And I know I'm not supposed to have favorites, but his grades on his spelling tests get him a spot in the comfy bean bag chair pretty much every Friday. Honestly, I think that's what I like about working with kids. I get to see that spark on their face when something just finally clicks for them. Their little faces get all bright and happy and…ugh. God, I'm sorry. I'm rambling, right?”

You stop yourself with a hand sliding over your mouth, not quite covering your smile of embarrassment.

Dean’s grin just widens, making the corners of his eyes crinkle. 

"It's okay. I kinda like it," he teases.

You duck your head, biting your lip against a groan. He chuckles and reaches out for your hand, earning your nervous glance. He quirks his head.

“Hey, you're passionate about what you do, helping kids. That's nothin' to be ashamed of,” he says, brushing his thumb over your hand. “But sweetheart, I gotta ask. Am I making you nervous or something?”

God, yes, you think, especially at that sweetheart thing. It’s making your heartbeat tick up a syncopated rhythm, but you shake your head, biting the straw of your rum and coke.

“No, not at all,” you say, in a hopefully “breezy” kind of way. You touch your fingers to his wrist. “Tell me about you though. Sam mentioned that you’re a firefighter?”

“Ah, yeah. Firefighter in training,” he says, with a more genuine smile.

He just started at the Fire Academy, and he tells you about all the drills he’s had to learn and all the training he’s had to do to be able to keep up with his classes. You subtly eye him while you sip at your drink, and you notice the crisp cut of his buttoned-down shirt and leather jacket, the definition of muscle across his thighs under the slacks, even while he casually sits.

Your gaze subtly travels down his long bowed legs, smart dress shoes. His cologne is woody and masculine, but not overpowering; maybe bergemot and sandalwood. It pleasantly wafts under your nose every time he gestures with his hands while he talks.

“Aw man, I can’t hold out anymore. I think I need to get me some of that cake before it’s gone,” he says, getting up from his chair.

You’re a bit disappointed that he’s leaving, until he stops short.

“You want another piece?” he offers, gesturing at your empty plate that’s been resting on the counter.

You blink in surprise, but you shake your head. “Oh, no. I probably shouldn’t.”

“Why not? It’s a party,” Dean reasons. His grin is too damn infectious. It has you smiling, and begrudgingly agreeing.

Not only does he bring you more cake, but you watch him eat three whole slices before he asks you to dance.

The rest of it flashes through your mind like strobe lights—the way he’d started small and respectful with his larger hand closed over yours and the other along the curve of your waist. He guided you closer and closer, until you were turned around into his arms, and you could feel his warm breath on your neck.

You felt his lips teasing your skin. Then those hands tantalizingly drifted down your every soft curve, as if showing you a preview of everything he could do to you, and every way he’d make you come apart. You believed him.

And when he whispered in your ear, asking if he could take you home, you let him.

You let him drive you in that big black piece of history he drives. Used to be my dad’s car, he said. A Chevy something. You couldn’t really remember much when his hand was drifting up and down your thigh like that.

His presence burned hot at your back when you two eventually got to the front door of your apartment, your hands just barely shaking as you got the key in. Twist and click—

He waited until you flipped the lights on. Then he turned you around slowly in his arms and pulled you in close, all the while asking you with his eyes and raised brows. This okay? You want this?

“Do I still make you nervous?” he asked, his lips twitching at a smile when yours do.

You nodded, uttering a small giggle. “In a good way.”

That was when he finally kissed you, hot and slow, like he meant to devour you whole. He moaned at the taste of you, at the feel of your ass squeezed in his hands. You clung onto him strong, breathing into his kiss and trying to meet every single demand of his lips.

It soon became a fiery tear to your bedroom, one lamp flicked on, hot breaths and nice clothes crumpled to the floor. You didn’t feel self-conscious even once when he guided you under him on the bed, because he wasted no time in taking you apart, inch by inch.

His lips kissed and licked and sucked a burning trail down your neck, over your collarbone and between your breasts. You felt his hardened length trapped between your bodies while his hands explored you, teasing your breasts and sensitive nipples, and he mapped his way down with his lips.

You explored every part of him you could—every dip of muscle, firm shoulders and the slopes of his back, and then back up to tangle in his hair. Your heated gasps and whimpers filled the room when his sinful mouth found what it was looking for between your legs.

It wasn’t often that you had a strong pair of shoulders to rest your thighs on, but Dean’s grip was hard enough to leave deep fingerprints of pressure on each thigh while he slipped his tongue through your folds and feasted on you.

“D-Dean, oh God,” you gasped. Every sound you made was a sensuous symphony in his ears, washing over his skin and making the well of his desire churn hot in his lower belly. He had to roll his hips into the mattress for some relief for his aching cock, even while he moved his mouth up to your clit, circling the swollen bud with his tongue. He had enough room to slip two fingers deep inside your sopping wet channel, exploring you deeply, stroking and twisting to find what you needed.

Your thighs trembled and squeezed tight on either side of his head. When he sucked your clit tight between his lips, you uttered as gasping moan as that coil snapped its release. Your inner walls fluttered around his fingers. Yours clenched tightly in his hair, threatening to rip out a few strands.

Dean stroked you all through your first orgasm, giving slower licks to your clit. He seemed to sense when you couldn’t handle anymore though. You tugged more sharply on his hair, and he finally pulled away, moving back up your body to gauge your reaction.

You’d collapsed boneless against the bed, but you still managed to smile up at him as you caught your breath.

“You okay, sweetheart?” he asked. But his self-satisfied grin almost made you laugh. You took his glistening face between your hands and pulled him down for a grateful kiss.

After a moment to savor your lips, he broke away for a second to catch his breath himself. You stroked his back all the while.

“You know, for a minute down there, I thought you might not let me come back up,” he teased.

You choked on a laugh, covering your face in embarrassment.

“Honestly wouldn’t have minded if you did suffocate me,” he chuckled, accompanied by a slap to your left ass cheek. You squealed, and blushed hotly at the way he was grinning down at you.

“Ready for more, baby? Or you want to call it a night?” he asked. His tone was playful, but it was actually a serious question. You blinked in surprise. You’d never had a guy be this, well…generous, and not expect anything in return, especially not for just a hookup.

But you shook your head and sat up, slipping a hand behind Dean’s neck. After a beat of hesitation, you guided him down to you for a slow, sensuous kiss.

“No, I don’t want to call it a night,” you whispered. Your hand drifted down his bare chest, and lower still. You showed him just how well you could return the favor.

And now, come the morning, you’re blushing down to your neck as each scene flashes through your mind. You feel the ghost of his hands all over your body, and how you’d never quite felt quite as bold and sexy and beautiful with a near stranger as you had with Dean effing Winchester. Your best friend’s brother.

You begin to worry your bottom lip with your teeth. How the hell are you going to tell Sam? Especially after he warned you about exactly this. Plus, there’s a reason you don’t typically do the one-night stand thing, and this has the potential to become something very complicated.

You know what, it’s fine! you think. We’re two consenting adults. We’re both single. And maybe…maybe it could be more than a hookup. Maybe we can see each other again, see where it goes.

“What’re you thinking so hard about?” Dean says, his voice croaking with sleep.

You look down at him in surprise. His eyes have cracked open and he has your hand captive, stopping you from continuing to idly trace patterns on his bare chest. You smile in embarrassment.

“Sorry,” you say. Again, you bite your lower lip. “Um, good morning.”

“Morning, sweetheart,” he grins lazily. “You sure wore me out last night.”

Your smile becomes more genuine, even if you turn your face away somewhat shyly.

“Aw, don’t do that,” Dean says. He slides his hand up your arm and behind your neck, tangling into your already tangled hair when he guides you down to his lips for a kiss. “You were awesome.”

You giggle against his lips. “Really?”

“Hell, yeah,” he says, kissing you again.

You shake your head a little. “You were…”

Amazing. Unbelievable. Probably the best night I’ve ever had.

“Perfect,” you decide. Because it’s the truth. The word comes out of your mouth before you can filter yourself though, making you pause. Dean does too, but after a beat, he slowly smiles.

“Oh yeah?” he asks.

You lick your lips, and you nod. “Definitely.”

“Well, then,” he says. His hand moves down to squeeze your hip. “You down for a repeat performance?”

You smile. “Only if I get a turn.”

Bracing your hands on his chest, you slide your thigh across his lap so you can straddle his hips. Dean grins and goes along with your idea. He gets a nice healthy handful of your thighs and helps settle you on top of him. But first, he reaches over into your nightstand drawer and finds another condom, ripping it open with his teeth.

Just like you did for him last night, you take the packet, as well as his generous length in your hands. You gently stroke him to full mast, smiling pleased at his groan of pleasure. Then you carefully fit the condom over him.

“You’re so gentle with me,” he teases. 

“Just returning the favor,” you quip, just before you position him at your wet entrance. Slowly, you sink down over his cock.

You both moan at the feeling of him stretching you again, warm and thick and fitting perfectly nestled deep inside. There had been moments last night where he wasn’t all that gentle, actually, but his passion had only spurred yours on more. You know you’ll probably find fingerprint marks on your thighs and ass, but it’s fucking worth it, you think, as you begin to bob a rocking rhythm that serves you both.

Dean arches his back underneath you, his knees coming up to press against your ass.

“Goddamn, baby. Givin’ me quite a show,” he says, in a panting voice that’s deep as sin.

You utter a breathy laugh.

Dean means it though. He’s enjoying the way you brush your hair out of your face, your beautiful tits in his face while you truly let loose for him. He guides you by the stronghold he has on your hips, his fingers pressing into your soft flesh as he ruts up into you, meeting your thrusts.

Your breath quickens, your nails digging into his chest on reflex, and your heart races as that delicious pleasure builds. But when Dean snakes a hand between you and further parts your folds to massage tight circles over your clit, your vision flashes white. You utter a scream of pleasure on his name, your inner walls choking him tight as you throb around his cock. His release hits him like a goddamn freight train.

“Aw, fuck,” he grunts.

He slams your hips down hard, making your thighs slap against his. A ragged groan escapes him in a rush. His hands move to your thighs just under your ass, where his fingers press into flesh hard enough to leave forensic ID, giving him leverage to bury himself deep into your pussy as he spills a hot release into the condom.

Goddamn…

He can almost imagine that he’s coming free inside you, that you’re milking his cock for every drop, until there’s nothing left for him to give.

The thought surprises him. It almost takes him out of the moment, honestly. That’s not a thought he’s ever had before—not with a woman he barely knows (which is most of his hookups, if he’s honest).

In that delicious, fractious moment just after it hits, it’s like those few seconds are suspended in zero gravity. Your arms are shaking, and your forced to collapse against his chest. Dean welcomes you there for a little while, letting you come down while he smooths a hand over your hair.

Though he can't help the urge to let his big hand drift down over your dewy skin, down the gentle slope of your back and over the curve of your generous ass. He gives one cheek a teasing slap. The sound echoes in the room.

"Goddamn perfect ass," he says roughly, smirking at your squeal. You end up grinning hard against his neck.

"'S that my new nickname?" you quip.

He chuckles deeply, moving you along with his chest. "Hell, sweetheart, if you want it to be."

Eventually, you lean back to give him a smile and one last kiss before you pull away from him. You slip off his lap to find your robe, at least. You definitely need a shower.

“So I’m thinking, after we get cleaned up, I could make us some breakfast,” you offer. “Or if you want, maybe we could go somewhere. I know a little diner down the block.”

“I like the sound of food,” Dean agrees with a smile. Ge reaches over for his phone on the nightstand, to check the time. His eyes widen. “Oh, shit.”

He has to get his ass over to the Fire Academy. He has class in barely twenty minutes.

He tears out of bed and nearly trips on the coiled sheets.

“Sorry. Gonna need to take a raincheck,” he says. He hurries to find his clothes strewn all over your bedside floor.

“What’s the matter?” you ask with wide eyes. You cross your arms under your breasts, but it’s more like you’re hugging yourself over your robe. You watch him tear through your bedroom in a tempest of movement.

Dean spares you a glance, but not much else as he yanks up his slacks and belt and dress shirt.

“Gotta get to class,” he confesses. Thank God he has his uniform in the trunk of his car for exactly these kinds of emergencies. He grabs his phone, wallet, and keys, and quickly kisses you on the cheek. He gazes down at you apologetically. “Sorry I gotta cut and run, sweetheart, but it’s been fun.”

Your smile barely reaches your eyes. He’s pressed for time, but he still notices.

He slows himself down and cups your cheek. “Hey.”

He gets your pretty eyes looking up at him, and he gives you a real kiss, nice and slow. He cradles your cheek and brushes his thumb across your skin.

“Thanks,” he says. His now familiar grin manages to make you smile. “And I mean that.”

You shake your head at him. “Okay go, Mr. Future Fireman. Be safe out there, okay?”

He gives you a playful salute. “Yes, ma’am.”

You can’t help but laugh. This guy’s too much. But you don't think you've had this much fun having sex in...

All right, let's not put a timeframe on it.

You watch him leave your apartment, even though you have a sinking feeling in your chest. You knew this was just a hookup for him, for both of you. Part of you just couldn’t help hoping that it could’ve led to something more. 

Dean means to call you.

He really does.

After that truly awesome, you shook me all night long, kind of a night, he thinks about you more than he’d like to admit over the next few weeks. However, he finds himself locked into his training. He’s so close to finishing strong and earning his badge, he just can’t afford any more distractions.

Still, he should’ve known that Sam would find out—either through Eileen, or through you directly. He also should’ve expected the way his brother let him have it.

“And you didn’t even fucking call her. See? This is why I don’t set you up with any of my friends anymore,” Sam bitches at him from his side of the small two-seater dinner table. They still share an apartment, though in just a month and a half, Sam’s going to be moving out. He and Eileen already found a house that they’re moving into after the wedding.

“Look, I was going to call her, man. They’ve just been bustin’ my ass at the Academy!” Dean argues.

“Bullshit.” Sam levels him with the same finger that holds his beer.

Dean’s brows raise, high and annoyed. “Oh, really?”

“Yeah, I’m calling bullshit. Because if you really liked her, respected her, and respected me, you would’ve made the time,” Sam says.

That falls heavy between the brothers for a moment while they eat their pizza.

“Look, I know her. She doesn’t do hookups that often, which means…she probably liked you,” Sam adds. “And honestly, when are you going to give it a real try with someone? You can only visit that free clinic so many times.”

Dean shoots him a glare. He’s had a clean bill of health from said clinic for six months straight.

“Jesus Christ. Enough, all right?” he grouses. “What’re you, Mom?”

“I’m just saying,” Sam says, lowering his crust to the plate. He levels his brother with a more earnest look, lightening up from his anger. “Look, if it’s about what happened to Dad—”

“What, you mean the way he drank himself to death after Mom died?” Dean says. His voice cuts through whatever softball glove Sam is trying to handle him with. “You think that’s the kind of thing I should be looking for in my life?”

“Oh, and what, do you think I’m making a mistake marrying Eileen?” Sam counters.

Dean sighs, shaking his head. “Damn it, don’t put words in my mouth. That’s not what I’m saying, it’s just…I don’t know. Maybe that kind of life—the house, the wife, the 2.5 kids and the dog. Maybe that’s just not my life, okay?”

Sam gives him a long look. He lets go of a deep breath, and he shrugs.

“Okay,” he says. “If you think hooking up night after night for the rest of your life is going to make you happy, then fine.”

Dean nods, glad that they can put an end to this little After School Special.

“Okay.”

Still, he can’t finish his third slice of pizza. He keeps picturing your face when he left you that morning. No matter how you tried to hide it, he still saw the tinge of disappointment in your eyes. It brews something uncomfortable in his stomach, and a sting in his chest.

You’re eating lunch alone in your classroom, finally on your break, when an unfamiliar number flashes across your phone screen. You look down at it in confusion, but with all the caterers and florists and things you’ve helped Eileen with on the wedding, you figure it could be important. You pick up the call and greet whoever’s on the line.

“Hey, sweetheart. How are you?”

You drop your ham and cheese on your keyboard, gaping in surprise.

“Dean?”

“Yeah, it’s me,” he chuckles slightly. “Sorry, I know it’s been a minute.”

You frown, because you’re confused more than anything.

“Yeah, like almost a month,” you reply. You put the call on speaker so you can grab up your sandwich and quickly brush off the crumbs from your keyboard. You struggle to say something cool, clever, sexy even. “I’m okay. Just, um…what’s up?”

Smooth, real smooth. You cover your eyes with your hand.

“Nothin’, I was just thinking of that night,” he says. “I had a good time.”

Your frown deepens, despite the beginning of a blush warming your cheeks. If he’s calling you just for another hookup…

“So I just thought maybe you and I could do something again. Maybe you wanna come over my place this time.”

And there it is. You deflate at his words, shoulders sagging. The "convenient booty call" proposition.

“I could make us some burgers, toss in a couple of beers and a movie night,” he adds.

That part throws you though, you’re not going to lie. What, is this a Netflix and chill situation—with a side of fries?

You consider it. You weigh pros and cons at a frightening speed in your mind, almost like Sherlock Holmes contemplating the layout of a dead body and deducing within moments that his wife committed the murder, despite the man no longer wearing a ring.

You want to let yourself be bold and spontaneous and carefree...but it's just not who you are at your core. You're a planner, a cautious person who looks three ways before crossing the street. Letting Dean take you home that night was certainly one of the most spontaneous, wild things you've done since your friends took you out to a strip club after you aced your final round of exams back in college.

(Sam hadn't been there that night, but he did get an embarrassing drunken text from you at 3:00 a.m., along with a few shame-ridden pictures fueled by questionable substances. Yes, he still had the evidence.)

You just don't know if it's smart to let yourself hookup with Dean again. Mostly because you know your heart has the tendency to get attached, no matter how much you warn it not to.

“You know, Dean, I’m pretty busy with my job right now. I just started here a couple of months ago, and I think I just need to focus on that right now,” you say. Part of it isn’t a lie, even though your soft heart is stinging.

“Ah, okay. Yeah. I get that,” he says. You hear his disappointment too. “But I just need to say, I really am sorry for not calling you sooner.”

Your lips tug at a smile. “It’s okay, Dean. Look, you’re Sam’s brother. I just feel like, maybe it’s better if you and I stay friends.”

“Friends, huh?” Dean says wryly. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, but I don’t have three rounds of steamy hot sex with any of my friends.”

Your blush comes swiftly again, burning in your cheeks.

“Be that as it may,” you say, “I just don’t want to do anything that will distract from Sam and Eileen’s wedding.”

“Oh, I’m a distraction, huh?” Dean says flirtatiously. 

You begin to smile in earnest. “I think you know damn well what you are, Dean Winchester.”

His deep chuckle practically resonates through the phone and into your chest, going straight down to your pussy. You clench on nothing just at the sound of his voice, making you cross your legs under your skirt. Dear God…

How are you supposed to be even remotely normal around this man now? 

But for Sam’s sake (and your own), you’ll have to try. 

Two months later, Dean has taken Sam’s dating advice to heart. A week or so after you turned him down, he ran into Lisa Braeden, Eileen’s Maid of Honor, while he was at the grocery store buying beer and Twizzlers. She was a smart, sharp, sexy brunette. A yoga instructor, he soon found out. So he took a chance on asking her out. They’ve been going slow and steady ever since. 

Dean hasn’t heard from you since the rehearsal dinner, but he sees you again at his brother’s wedding. All the bridesmaids are wearing long, royal blue dresses that drape off the shoulders and hug the bust and waist, flaring gently at the skirt. Lisa and Jo wear it beautifully, their hair perfectly smooth and coiled. 

But when you step out into the hall outside the church ballroom to join them, Dean actually pauses in what he’s saying to his brother. He nearly double takes when you enter his line of vision—mostly because he hasn’t seen you in a dress since that night. You were sexy as hell then, a lady in red. 

Today, you’re absolutely stunning. 

After greeting Sam with a warm hug, you turn to him with a nervous kind of smile. “H-Hey, Dean.”

With that, he snaps out of it. Dean smiles, eyes crinkling, and goes over to give you a hug as well.

“Good to see you,” he says, trying not to inhale too much of your nice perfume. It’s even in your hair.

“You too,” you reply. Your smile is a little brighter, more genuine. Though there’s something behind your eyes that he can’t quite place.

What he doesn’t notice is the way Lisa is watching you and her boyfriend, a hint of suspicion on her face.

You do though. You pull away from Dean and assemble into a line with Lisa at the helm. As the Best Man, Dean stands with her, followed by Jo and Brady, another one of Sam’s buddies. You and Benny bring up the rear. Benny’s dad used to work with John, Sam and Dean’s father, on the police force.

According to Sam, John Winchester worked a beat for twenty-six years before his liver finally gave out on him. Dean almost went to the Police Academy to follow in his dad’s footsteps, but Benny, already working his way up to Lieutenant, suggested Dean become a smoke eater instead. The suggestion stuck.

Benny Lafitte is slightly shorter than Dean, but just as broad-shouldered, his auburn beard neatly trimmed. Even though you might’ve thought he was rough around the edges at first, his kind blue eyes spoke the contrary. He offers you his arm like a gentleman.

“Well aren't I lucky, getting the prettiest girl on my arm,” he says, with a charming smile.

You smile, and even begin to blush at the way he subtly takes note of you from head to toe.

“Well, thank you. You’re very handsome yourself. Although, hold on.” You slip your arm out of his for a moment so that you can fix his tie. It’s slightly crooked. You make sure that it lays flat under his collar, smoothing down all the edges and picking off any small dust particles that landed on his collar. Benny watches you with an indulgent smile.

“Am I good?” he asks.

“Very,” you reply.

“I appreciate it, thank you,” he says. You don’t know if he means to sound flirtatious, but his voice is a deep drawl that washes over you pleasantly. You find yourself blushing down to your neck as you slip your arm back around his.

You also don’t notice how Dean glances at you and Benny over his shoulder.

As much as you love Sam and Eileen, it’s difficult for you to keep your mind from spinning into fractals as the ceremony goes on. You can’t help but glance at Dean. He stands there behind Sam dutifully, but you see brotherly pride in Dean’s eyes, in his smile. It makes you smile too. You too love Sam like a brother, and it brings a well of happy tears to your eyes to watch him have his moment with his new wife.

It just also reminds you of what you need to do.

After the ceremony ends and the bridal party files out behind the bride and groom, you excuse yourself from Benny apologetically. You wait until Lisa and Jo go off to take pictures with Sam and Eileen, and you grab Dean’s wrist, pulling him aside.

“I need to talk to you,” you whisper.

Dean gives you a confused look. “They’re gonna need us for the pictures.”

“I know, but this is important,” you say. Your voice trembles with nerves, and so do your hands. Dean notices, frowning in concern. He grasps your arm to try and steady you.

“Hey, are you okay?”

“Just come with me,” you implore him. You take his hand and lead him into the women’s dressing room attached to the church sanctuary you all just came out of.

Dean raises his brows at the mess you and the rest of the bridesmaids have made of the room—pantyhose and makeup and clothing litter the floor and most available surfaces, while leftover breakfast sandwiches, grapes, salami, and cheddar cheese cubes are splayed out across one of the vanity counters. Dean is tempted to steal a morsel, but he focuses on you first.

You close and lock the door, which makes his brows raise high again. You know he has a girlfriend now, right?

“Uhh, look, I’m not sure what’s going on here, but—”

You heave a sigh. Again, you take his hand and guide him to sit with you at the vanity. The old stools squeak, the overhead lights a bit too bright. This is not where you want to do this, but you can’t hold it in anymore.

“Dean, I’m pregnant,” you confess.

He freezes. His breath stills in his lungs. His eyes slowly widen as the words click in his brain.

“What?” His head tilts, as if he didn’t hear you right.

You squeeze his hand; to ground him or yourself, you’re not sure.

“I’m about two months pregnant. I found out last week.”

Dean swipes his free hand over his mouth while he tries to compute. He squeezes your hand, tighter and tighter. He points to himself.

“It’s…it’s me? It’s mine?”

You give him a weary smile. “You’re the only one I’ve been with in the last few months. It could only be you.”

Oh fuck. The man’s face begins to pale as he descends into shock.

“But we…I used a condom,” he reasons. “All the—all the times!”

You bite your lip. If you weren’t freaking the fuck out yourself, you’d probably be laughing right now. Granted, you’ve had a bit more time to process this than Dean.

“I know, I was there,” you reply, releasing yet another sigh. “One of them probably broke. That’s all I can think of… Honestly, Dean, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. I just didn’t want to disrupt the ceremony or cause a scene before the wedding. But now you know.”

Dean falls silent then. He hasn’t let go of your hand, which you think is a decent sign. He’s likely forgotten that you’re still holding it as he stares off into the middle distance for several seconds.

Eventually, he shakes his head and returns his gaze to yours. He looks uncertain, his handsome face the true epitome of holy fucking shit.

You know the feeling.

But he asks the most important question.

“What do you want to do?”

Briefly you close your eyes as you take a breath. You squeeze his hand before you let go of him.

“I’ve thought about this a lot, and…I’m keeping the baby,” you tell him, though you raise placating hands. “I don’t want money, or anything like that. I just wanted you to know that it’s yours. How much you want to be in his or—or her life, that’s up to you.”

Dean takes a beat before he answers, but you don’t have to wait so long holding your breath.

“Okay. Okay, yeah. I’ll help you. Don’t worry,” he says.

And just like that, all the time you spent giving yourself pep talks for this, telling yourself that you’ll need to be strong no matter what he says, all of it crumbles into relief. Your lower lip trembles, and your body shudders as you break into tears. You try covering your face to hide your shame, but Dean grasps your shoulders.

“Hey, hey. It’s all right,” he says. He tentatively pulls you into a hug. “It’s gonna be okay.”

You nod into his dress shirt, probably staining him with your running makeup.

“Thank you,” you whisper. “Thank you so much.”

He holds you a bit tighter in response.

You and Dean agree to keep this to yourselves for now, at least until Sam and Eileen get back from their honeymoon. It’s difficult to explain why your eyes are all red and your makeup is smudged, but you promise Sam that you’ll tell him later. You know it’s pointless to lie to him though. As a lawyer, his bullshit meter is far too high.

However, you also know that he’s half guessed it by the time you all make it to the reception. When you and Dean came out of that dressing room to join the bridal party for pictures, you're sure that you looked emotionally wrecked. Dean had looked pale as a sheet, his body coiled and tense, as willing himself to seem normal. Sam had clocked both of you with a raise of his brow, but he didn't say anything then, especially after you gave him a pleading look.

While Eileen greets her family without him for a moment, Sam pulls you aside. He notes your glass of diet coke, in a moderate sea of guests drinking champagne and cocktails.

“Are you okay?” he asks knowingly.

Tears well up in your eyes again. You don’t know if it’s your damn hormones going haywire, or just the way Sam asks you, with the love of a friend in his eyes. He squeezes your shoulder gently, prompting you with your name.

“Yeah, I think I will be,” you say.

"Is it the same reason you're not drinking?" he asks. "You and Dean earlier..."

You hesitantly confirm with a nod. Sam blows out a harsh sigh, raising folded hands to his mouth as he processes. You begin to look around on reflex, trying to see if anyone's watching you and Sam have this conversation in the middle of the reception. To your relief, everyone around you seems occupied with drinks, hours d'oeuvres and conversation.

“What did he say when you told him?” Sam asks. His gaze is firmer. You get the idea that if he doesn’t like what you tell him, then he’s about to go grab his brother by the ear himself.

You grab his wrist and give a placating squeeze. “He said he's going to help me, be there for me.”

“Damn right. So will I,” Sam nods, and glances back at Eileen, his new bride, with a smile. “We both will.”

“I know,” you nod as well. “I’ll be okay, Sam. You don’t have to worry so much. Just enjoy your wedding day. It’s the only one you’re gonna get. Well, you know…hopefully.”

You tease him with a wink.

Sam laughs, cupping your cheek. He kisses your other cheek.

“I love you, you know that right?” he says.

You give him a trembling smile through your tears.

Meanwhile, Dean has a beautiful woman in his arms. He turns Lisa on the dancefloor, trying not to trip on his own dress shoes, all the while knowing that his brain isn’t here in his body. It’s across the ballroom, watching you talk to Sam. Dean can tell that he knows, just in his Big Bird body language. He’d also recognize that accompanying Bitch Face anywhere.

“Dean, what’s wrong,” Lisa asks him, and not for the first time. She’s getting annoyed, he can tell. She finally looks over to where he keeps glancing, and she notices you with a frown. It’s also not the first time she’s caught him staring at you tonight.

“What was that earlier in the dressing room? She didn’t really get food poisoning, did she?” she asks pointedly. “What, did you two used to date or something?”

He gives a wan smile. “Yeah, kinda. We…had a thing once.”

“What kind of thing?”

Dean closes his eyes and tries to keep himself calm. He’s pretty sure if he tells her the truth right now, she’s going to find the nearest cocktail and dump it over his head.

But shit, here it goes.

“Well…”

After a long day at school, you drive over to Dean’s apartment. You’d agreed to meet there and wait for him to get off his shift at Firehouse 83, where he just started as a full-fledged firefighter on probation. When he gets home, he’s supposed to go with you to an important appointment with your OB-GYN. 

You were hoping he’d already be done with work by the time you got to his place, but Lisa's there to open the door for you. Apparently, he’d already given her a key.

Moving kind of fast, but okay, you think. A second later, you could’ve rolled your eyes at yourself. Pot, kettle, me. Got it.

Lisa greets you with a “polite” smile at best, but she does offer you water at least. You really can’t blame her for not liking you though. She found out her boyfriend got another woman pregnant right before he started dating her. Really, she has more balls than you for staying with him. You wouldn't put it past Dean to somehow have smooth-talked her into giving him a chance.

Or she really loves him. The thought sobers you as you lower yourself down to the couch beside her. Both of you sit there in silence for a moment, trying to figure out something to talk about.

“So, you’re what, six months pregnant?” she asks.

You correct her in thinly veiled annoyance. “Three months, actually.”

“Oh, wow. I’m sorry,” she says. “I don’t know why I thought it was six.”

You have a feeling her awkward chuckle is fake, however. She knew good and damn well that you’re not six months pregnant. In her eyes, you must be the size of a parade float. 

“If you want, I can recommend a holistic diet to help you get your body back after the baby’s born,” Lisa offers. “No pills, no chemicals. Just good clean weight loss.”

You feign interest. Honestly, you’d like her to cram that offer right up her hooch.

“I can even give you a discount if you want to try out yoga,” she says. “It’s low impact, but you burn plenty of calories. I have a beginner’s class, not too strenuous. Even my least flexible clients manage to do the poses.”

Is that why Dean likes you? Because you’re bendy? Bet if I sat on you, you’d pop like a fucking balloon.

You hide all of these thoughts behind a “polite” smile of your own.

“That’s really nice of you, thanks,” you reply. It’s non-committal enough, but hopefully it’ll get her off your back.

No such luck.

“You know, maintaining a healthy diet is really important for the baby’s health too,” Lisa adds. “It’s not just about avoided raw fish and dairy products. Oh, and processed food is obviously a no-go. Like, I’m sure you haven’t been hitting Taco Bell and all that stuff, right?”

As a matter of fact, you’ve been eating clean since long before you got pregnant. Not that it’s any business of hers whether you enjoy the occasional quesadilla or not.

Your temper snaps at its leash. You open your mouth to reply, when the front door unlocks and opens to Dean, stepping in through the threshold.

Thank God, you and Lisa both think. She gets up quicker from the couch than you, greeting her boyfriend with a kiss. You avert your gaze while you begin to get up yourself.

Dean reaches out to help you, grasping your arm in support. You shoot him a smile.

“I can still get up by myself,” you snip.

“Yeah, all right. Just in case,” he says with a smile. “Ready to go?”

“Oh, yeah. Let’s rock and roll,” you say, trying to hide your worsening mood. You’re exhausted, and irritated, and probably more than a little hangry. Except now, the idea of food just has you feeling guilty for even being hungry.

“Bye, hun. Hope you have a good appointment,” Lisa says, giving your shoulder a pat. You give her the most genuine smile you can muster as you thank her. It's possibly that she's one of those women who don't realize when they're being cunty, but you find it highly unlikely. She's too smart for that.

You follow Dean out the door and over to his car, big and black and sleek as you remember. You settle into the passenger seat with your arms crossed in silence. Dean switches the cassette to one of his favorite Led Zeppelin albums, though he notices your grumpy face.

“Something wrong?” he asks.

You give him some side-eye, but you’re reluctant to say anything. You just shake your head. As irritated as you are, you don’t want to be the friend who badmouths his girlfriend.

God, are we even friends? You wonder. Or am I just his knocked-up baby momma?

And again, you realize that this whole situation is probably hard for Lisa. You just don’t know if she’s jealous, or if she just…doesn’t like you.

“I’m okay,” you tell Dean.

He raises a skeptical brow. Looks like Sam isn’t the only one with a finely tuned bullshit meter.

“All right, how about this,” Dean says. “Let’s grab some burgers after this, huh? From your favorite spot. Shake Shack, right? Side of fries, frozen yogurt. I think I’ll get chocolate this time… Hmm, I doubt Lisa will want anything. She’s gone on an all-vegan kick or something.”

For one shining moment, you were happy and touched at his consideration. But now your body stills in your seat when you remember Lisa’s words. Tears well up in your eyes with a hot sting, and a sob escapes your throat.

Dean is cut off from thinking about getting extra bacon on his burger. He looks over at you in alarm. “H-Hey, what’s the matter?”

You scoff at him through your tears. “Are you kidding me? I can’t eat burgers anymore, Dean. I was already fucking fat. Now it’s just gonna get ridiculous.”

“What?” Dean’s brows knit together in confusion, along with his deepening frown. It gets worse as he tries to watch the road ahead, while at the same time, watching you continue to crumble.

“And after the birth, I’m just going to be an even fatter slob who can’t take care of her baby,” you sniffle and weep, trying in vain to wipe your eyes and get ahold of yourself.

Dean grits his teeth, his jaw twitching. Fuck it.

He turns the steering wheel sharp enough to startle a gasp out of you.

“Dean!”

He pulls the car over onto the side of the road, ignoring the honking SUV behind him. He shifts into Park and shuts off the radio—a big red flag, in your opinion. He’s upset too, and fucking serious, more so than you’ve ever seen him. You stare back at him with wide eyes.

“I’ve never once heard you say that you’re fat,” he says.

You blink at that, but eventually, you’re able to get your tongue to unstick from the roof of your mouth. You wipe the remnants of tears from your cheeks. Your face is already hot from your upset, now tinged with embarrassment.

“You haven’t known me very long,” you say quietly.

It doesn’t help. Dean’s jaw ticks again.

“Well, I’ve never thought it. Not even once,” he says. His jade green eyes are firmly set on yours, and he gestures between you and him with a pointed finger. “The reason you and I are here right now, is because the minute I saw you, I wanted you.”

One corner of his lips kicks upwards. “And that night, you didn’t disappoint.”

Your mouth falls open slightly. You don’t know how to respond, but you do know that a full blush is warming your face and neck. His words have power, and unbidden, they bloom a similar warmth between your legs. You swallow a bit nervously as you bite your bottom lip.

Dean glances down at your mouth when you do. He can remember what your pretty mouth did for him that night. Oh, he remembers all too well. He even had the shade of your lipstick streaked across his skin until he showered up at the firehouse.

He locks that all away when shifts the car back into Drive. If you’re going to make it to this appointment on time, he needs to get going.

And you both have to leave whatever that was right here by the side of the road.

AN: Woo! 😮‍💨 Yep, this is only Part 1, friends. Lisa is a bit different in this. My take was that without Ben in her life, she might be less mature and a bit more catty. As we get into Part 2 I'll leave it up to you to decide why she decides to stay with Dean, and perhaps more importantly, where the reader and Dean can go from here as co-parents. 🤔

If you enjoyed Part 1, please let me know!~

Next Time in Part 2:

“Hey, you okay?” you say, resting a gentle hand on his arm.

Dean shakes his head. “Look, I…I’m sorry for tossing a giant friggin’ monkey wrench into your life. I know this hasn’t been easy for you.”

If possible, your heart softens even more. You slide your hand down to grasp his.

“Dean, this baby wasn’t planned, but he’s not a mistake,” you say. “I don’t regret anything.”

Dean stares back at you incredulously. He can’t believe you could really say that to him. He doesn’t know what to say. He only knows what’s in his mind, and what he feels compelled to do in that moment.

He leans over and kisses you. It’s a firm meeting of his lips to yours, and achingly familiar.

⋆˙⟡ Read Part 2 on Patreon now!

⋆˙⟡ Coming to Tumblr/Ao3 on 3/23

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[suzukiblu]

Day twenty-one of “Kon meets pink kryptonite and decides to fuck Tim and his boyfriend about it” behind the cut. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

He really needs to not get used to this. 

Kon . . . exhales, slowly, and glances up at Tim. Tim’s just sipping his latte, watching Bernard put the caramel-sticky hot chocolate mug on the breakfast tray and stack up all the dirty dishes together. Like–make room, maybe, or just organize ‘em better to wash later, Kon guesses. He feels like maybe he should be doing that, or at least helping out with it or something, but . . . well, this is where Tim told him to be, so he’s not. 

Like–maybe he should be, just . . . 

Tim strokes his hair back off his forehead, and Kon really can’t do anything but stay right where he is. Tim’ll tell him if he needs to be anywhere else. Like–obviously Tim’ll tell him if he needs to be anywhere else. That’s what Tim always does. 

And like–he knows Tim will. 

Kon . . . relaxes, kinda, and breathes out slow again. Stays where Tim put him, and doesn’t do anything else. Tim didn’t ask him to do anything else, so–yeah. He just stays where Tim put him, and Tim draws his fingers through his hair again while he smiles up at Bernard, and Bernard leans down to kiss him again, and Kon can–feel it, again. Feel them kiss each other, he means. Obviously. It feels nice, but he knows it’s not a thing they’re actually, like . . . trying to make him feel. 

It’s still hard not to like how it feels, though. 

Tim curls his fingers through his hair and his nails in behind his ear, absent and reflexive and without turning away from kissing Bernard, and Kon closes his eyes and just–melts, really. Melts, and just . . . stays melted, he guesses. Bernard gets into the bed with them, tucking himself in against Tim’s side with a content little hum and pressing a kiss against his jaw as he reaches across his stomach to give Kon a quick, affectionate little scritching himself, and Kon is pretty much just, like, goop now. Melty, melty goop. Or–melty, melty caramel, maybe. He feels kinda like how being caramel might feel, he thinks a little bit dreamily, and likes the thought. Bernard made him caramel, so like . . . yeah. It’s a nice thought, right now. 

“All good, babe?” Bernard asks. 

“Mm,” Tim says. “I’m fine. Just being careful, that’s all.” 

“Yeah, fair,” Bernard agrees, giving Kon’s head a last scritch before dropping his hand to drape his arm loosely around Tim’s waist instead. “Gonna give me the mercy of a little cuddle-time, then?” 

“You don’t mind?” Tim asks with a faint little frown, and Bernard snorts. 

“I don’t need personal space after every scene, babe, I just don’t like getting touched much after I sub. So you being of a mind to be amenable to cuddling is like, the opposite of a problem when somebody else did the subbing,” he says, obviously amused. “Actually I’m gonna consider this a win, really? Like this is actually a very useful sex-life hack: borrow somebody else to sub, play lovely assistant to your Dom while getting a bit more personal flexibility in said play, maybe do a little pet-sitting or whatever somewhere in there, and then collect free cuddles after. Though honestly we maybe kinda fucked that idea already because I do not know who could actually live up to how you and your boy play together, like gods damn, or how goddamn good he rides my dick. Oh, and also I’ll miss that.” 

“The purring?” Tim asks, which is the only reason Kon figures out what “that” Bernard is talking about, and also probably the only reason he notices that he’s, like, kinda been purring. Like, apparently. Like–for a little while, probably. Huh. 

Well–it feels pretty nice, though, so yeah. It’s all good, he figures, feeling a little less dreamy and a little more sleepy now.

[shikaizer]

does she know? jujuwatkins x reader.

Juju is your ex, she had already found another girl, even though shes taken, she cant help but still be head over heels for you which she kept denying.

CHEATING — TOXIC!JUJU

| you still gon hang over?

| dont know ju, its late

| bro you promised.

| your such a dick

| and i told u, ur free to sleep over

| gosh where even is ur gf?

| told u she spending her time on family vaca

| thats y i invited u over, no other feelings

| didn't say anything

| whatever js hurry

you groaned sitting up at your bed, you looked over at the clock and it was still good for you to make your way to her dorm, and your clearly not planning to stay.

you and juju had broken up on good terms, but for you, its just one sided, you would often catch juju shit talking about you to her friends but you didn't really care. you knew who was in the wrong and almost all of them knew how juju is.

after your drive, you didn't bother knocking but instead let your self in with no shame, i mean you have been in the same house for 3years what would be the difference?

you sight a peak of the back of her head in the couch, sneaking in your tiptoe, once your closer you touched her shoulders making her flinch.

"what the fuck!" she shout whispered and turned to look at you frowning, she sighed rolling her eyes. "your such a pussy" you sneered and sat next to her.

"did not expect you to actually come" juju confessed and you snorted suprised at what she just said.

"how can i not when your close to sulking." you scoffed and she leaned her back at the couch looking directly at you. "or just admit it, you actually missed me." juju laughed and your face was serious so she stopped.

"looks whos talking." you retorted raising your eyebrows, involving her on her assumptions. she faked shivered rolling her eyes and returned her gaze back at the tv "scary."

"inviting me over just for you to watch tv?" you scoffed and crossed your arms and she spoke up. "just wanted some company." you smirked nodding getting full of yourself. "from me?" you asked and juju shrugged. "any girl will do." she responded not even daring to look at you.

you frowned getting annoyed and you stood up, "im leaving." you firmly said and juju looked over at you before grabbing your hands pulling you back to sit down, but this time your body is now pressed on her, you smelt the hypnotizing perfume on her hoodie and the warmness radiating on her.

"damn im kidding." juju spoke up and returned her attention to the tv again, your head fell chest and you bit your lip enjoying the contact, you didnt dare move.

you slowly turned your head around to look at the tv staying quiet embracing the moment, but all of it was destroyed when her phone across the the small tea table rang, she had to fucking move and when she did you felt weird that her warmth left.

"yeah babe?" juju was still lookint at the tv, but your looking directly at her. "js watching." you bit your lip scanning her side profile. "all alone babe dont worry." your face dropped in a dissapointed one since you assumed her girlfriend knew your with her.

"okay, loveyou." she turned her gaze on you when she said those words making your stomach take turns, but your still mad.

she placed the phone down and you crossed your arms.

"i thought she knew im here?" you asked raising your eyebrows. "when did i say that?" juju asked a hint of nervous in her tone.

"it doesn't matter ju! she should know!" you argued and rolled her eyes.

"she doesn't need to know." juju spat and you scoffed amused. "im seriously leaving." you cocked your head and stood up again, but again— juju caught your hand this time pulling you to her harder sensing the annoyance in her.

"dont—" juju said clenching her jaw and you rolled your eyes. "tell her or im gonna." you threatened and juju stayed quiet just staring st you. "thats it." you tried standing up again but she secured your position. "dont fucking leave."

juju glared at you and you calmed down, "she just wont mind— so its useless." juju added and stared deeply at you.

"bullshit." you cursed and she groaned "whatever, leave if you want." she commanded but you stayed in your position not moving a inch.

"yeah. thats what i thought." she muttured a sly smirk forming in her lips.

you focused on her lips a little too long which she taken notice on, she licked her lips her breathing getting raggy as she scanned your whole face.

as you met her gaze you quickly turned your head avoiding her gaze, but to your suprise she grabbed the back of your head and slammed you on her lips.

you gasped thru the kiss, she yanked your hair throwing your head back, gaining acess to slip her tounge inside you.

you moaned thru the kiss and she gripped on your hair pushing you down the matress, she pulled away and cursed under her breath scanning your body.

you looked up at her getting desperate and nervous, but you needed her, you wanted this so much even though its wrong.

"ju..." you called out and she hesistated keeping her gaze at you, her breath is heavy and she bit her lip trying to resist.

"fuck." she muttured trying to debate if she should continue or not, you slightly lifted your shirt and juju whimpered under her breat.

"fuck." she repeated and leaned down kissing you roughly tugging and the hem of your shirt passing it to your head and throwing dropping it on the floor.

"need you.." you muffled thru kisses and she bit your bottom lip grasping one of yours tits.

"shit— shut up." she muttured pulling away as she doesn't want to realize what the both of you are doing right now wanting to be carried away.

she gripped on your hair more burying her face on your neck you swear you can hear her softly whimpering through messy kisses on your skin.

"fuck ju.." you groaned and her hands made its way to your thighs gripping on it.

she used her thighs to widen your legs apart securing your position, she bought her fingers to the hem of your short pulling them off with ease.

she grazed her teeth on your skin and slid her fingers inside you making you arch you back moaning, she squeezed her eyes shut in hopes off resisting you as shes already turning crazy.

you whimpered when she curled her fingers and thrusting them deeper.

"oh fuck." juju cursed pressing her lips on your skin turned on the way your squeezing her fingers.

the bitter feeling of her inside you had you in chokehold, and again, she has a whole ass girlfriend yet you still felt the guilt.

but are you going to tell her to stop? no you wont. the both of you are well aware but theres no point on stopping now.

juju groaned when you bucked your hips closer to her fingers and she sped up lifting herself up to look at you.

she scanned your face and your expression, her eyes are half lidded, lips apart, and breathing heavily.

she gave you a one last thrust, you arched your back moaning again and she slowed down when you have reached your climax.

juju slowly pulled away breathing heavily not because she was tired, she was in shock.

you stared at her and she sat down cursing under her breath.

"ju.." you called out and she picked out your clothes throwing them to your way.

you raised your eyebrows confused and she avoided your gaze "you can leave if you want."

you bit your lips expecting for something more, huffing at her, you put on your clothes "fuck you." you muttured and stomped off tears slowly falling down your cheeks.

masterlist.

🔖 @addl0vee @tndaqlwifwy @mrsarnold @melpthatsme @bellaprintz25 @janaelalfysblunt @ellehoops @belsoulss @apbueckers @uwupaige @janaelalfysloml @paige05bby @azzisbueckers @paigeluvvr @giavonnii @taylynbueckers44 @jupitermoonbaby @shootingstarrrrr @dalilahissilly @luldejamleer

[cutleryclown]

gonna go ahead and yap about my stobotnik fankid au

General Info:

This is Serenity Robotnik(-Stone) (she/her) She's a tube baby created by Eggman to be an heir to his empire (and also just to prove that he CAN create her). She's a goat via a mishap with a latte during the DNA sampling.

Relationships:

She thinks her dad is super embarrassing because he can't catch the blue rat. Eggman tries to overcorrect by giving her everything she asks for, spoiling her rotten.

Serenity does. not. like. Stone. He tries to teach her stuff like "good manners" and that "she can't throw a tantrum whenever she doesn't get what she wants." He can't actually ground her or anything because she'll just threaten to tell Eggman that he's being mean to her.

She doesn't actually care about destroying Sonic and others herself, she just doesn't like how incompetent (in her eyes) Eggman is. She has definitely run away at some point and stayed over at one of their places just to piss Eggman off. Otherwise, they are just treated like anyone else (which is, call an army of badniks on them if they do anything to piss her off).

Other:

She has control gloves!! They are purple like her eyes and lens color.

She's left handed.

Her horns are turned toward each other like devil horns.

She was made around Sonic Unleashed as a side project and aged every [IRL] year until around TMOSTH

In universe reasoning for above is because they didn't want to raise an actual toddler for too long. IRL reasoning is that I wanted her to be around the other mobians' age.

Birthday is March 11th (cause that's when i first doodled her!!)

This is a gaslighting Sonic into thinking Agent Stone has always been there AU "what do you mean you don't know Agent Stone? We are literally married! We have a CHILD together!!!"

She's mainly based on Piper from Henry Danger

Feel free to ask anything about the AU!!

[mendessi]

things i say when you sleep | chapter fourteen

multi chapter bodhi durran x fem!oc

word count: 7.5k

chapter summary: After returning to Basgiath, Ania and Bodhi explore their free time together.

content warning: iron flame spoilers

AO3 masterlist

twelve | thirteen | fourteen | fifteen | sixteen

Xaden spends the better half of the day warding my door. I wish I knew how to show my gratitude because I know he'd rather spend his last hours at Basgiath with Violet. 

"Things are going to be different without me and Garrick here," Xaden says, entering my room. Only he and Bodhi have free access. Everyone else would need to be pulled through.

This morning, I'd been sure we were going to die. It's not every day you hear your own name read off the death roll. I'd just been thankful that Xaden's plan had worked through and through. 

"We'll be in charge of drops, I know," I reply. "Thank you. I know you'd rather be with Violet." 

"You're important to me too," He assures me as he closes my door behind him. "I wouldn't be here if you weren't." 

It feels wrong, finally being on better terms with him just for him to leave later tonight. He swears he'll write to me, but I wish I would have just made use of our time together here. I know I needed the space to grow into who I am today, but there's still so much that could've been different if I'd just listened to them in the first place. 

"I want to apologize," I say, but nothing else follows. 

He leans against the door, waiting for me to finish. "You don't have to apologize for anything." 

"I should," I reply. "You did your best with what I gave you this year. I made it really hard. I guess I should also say thank you. For caring enough to make sure I lived." I'm rambling at this point, but I've never been good at expressing my emotions. Which I suppose is why I ended up an empath. 

"Regardless of whether our relationship was on better terms or not, at this moment, I would've done whatever I could within my power to ensure you remained safe." He folds his arms over his chest and the corner of his mouth lifts. "But it is on better terms." 

"Yeah, I guess it is." I smile a little. 

"Are you still cut off?" He means by Gleigeal. 

"Until further notice," I reply, standing up.

"What happens if they pull you for interrogation? If Dain gets his hands-" 

"Dain is taken care of. I don't think he'll come for any of us after you embarrassed him this morning," I tell him. 

That surely was a sight to see. I didn't expect Xaden to make such a spectacle out of it, but I guess he had a point to make. 

"You can't shield with no power," Xaden says. 

"I know. I'm already decent at shielding, and as soon as I'm not cut off anymore, I'll practice with Bodhi." I reassure him. "Gleigeal would never put me in a position where I couldn't shield if I needed to." 

"I know he wouldn't." He nods curtly. "I just..."

"You worry." I finish for him. "You have plenty of other things to worry about. Don't add me to the list." 

"It's impossible not to add you to the list." He sighs. "The celebrations are starting soon. You should get ready." 

I cross my room and open the door. "Thank you for warding my door." 

"Anytime, little Alistair." He exits, and I follow him into the hallway. I have nowhere else to be, but being locked up in my room doesn't sound pleasant. "I'll see you soon."

He'll be back for the occasional weekend with Sgayel to visit Tairn. Luckily, that would take a lot of weight off our shoulders. 

We stand in front of my door, and I fold my hands behind my back. I stare up at Xaden, taking in the man in front of me. The person he's grown into is somebody that, in the best way, I don't recognize. He doesn't have to carry Fen's legacy, but he does. He carries the revolution on his back without anything to show for it. One day, when this is all over, there's a chance that nobody will know it was possible because of him. 

"What's wrong?" He asks. 

"I don't know if anyone has told you, but I'm proud of you," I say softly. 

He shakes his head briefly, and before I can think, I wrap my arms around his torso. He tenses under me, but I don't let go. Within the next second his arms are around me, squeezing me tightly. Tears threaten to spill from my eyes, but I hold them back. 

Xaden and I have shared countless hugs in our lifetime, but this one might be my favorite. This one, I know, is the most important. 

At this point in our lives, as adults, we share the weight of what we know about the world. The weight of knowing what we just went through in Resson is something only a select few can understand. But also, I'm realizing now that Xaden is and has always been a brother to me. Accepting the reality that he fought for me to welcome him back into my life and what that means moving forward. 

"Take care of yourself, Ania." He says when I pull away. 

"You too," I whisper.

Watching him walk away hurts in a way I didn't expect it to. 

The sun is beginning to set, and the end-of-year celebrations are kicking off, but I can't be bothered by celebrating tonight. It wasn't just my name that I heard on the death roll this morning; it was Solei's and Liam's. Two people that should be here celebrating with us. 

Liam hurts the most. His death is something I'm sure I will never get over. Knowing that his pain is something I'll carry with me is devastating. As I pass the gathering hall, I see the remainder of my squad sitting together at a table. At least Violet can bring herself to drink tonight. Maybe it wouldn't hurt if I had a few. 

"I've been looking for you." Garrick steadies me when I nearly collide with his chest. "Let's take a walk." 

I catch Ridoc's eye just as we walk away from the gathering hall. I barely spoke to any of my squadmates in formation, let alone after. 

"Why aren't you with them?" He asks once we make it into the courtyard. After eighteen hours on Gleigeal's back, I have an undeniable limp. 

I shrug, "Just wanted to be alone, I guess." 

"You shouldn't cut yourself off from your squad." He says. "You need them now more than ever." 

"I'm not," I argue. 

"Then why aren't you celebrating with them?" He says, gesturing back toward the gathering hall. 

"I don't see what there is to celebrate. You and Xaden are flying off to combat while I'm stuck here." I shrug. 

It's deflection. Something I've grown to be extremely good at over the years. It's not that I don't want to have these conversations; it's just that sometimes I can't. Xaden and Garrick are leaving. Liam is dead. Venin are real. I almost died. And I'm supposed to just proceed through my second year lying to the people I've unfortunately grown to care about. 

"Do us both a favor and keep yourself surrounded by the people who care about you." He rests a hand on my shoulder and offers me a smile. 

"I like this one," I fight the urge to roll my eyes as Gleigeal's voice enters my head. "He makes a lot of sense."

"I'll try." It is the best I can do. 

"I'll see you sooner than you think, little Alistair." He shoots me a wink before hiking the strap of his rucksack high up on his shoulder. 

"Take care of yourself," I call after him as he walks away. "I mean it, Tavis! Stay out of trouble!" 

"I know you do." His laugh echoes off the stone walls, but he doesn't turn to look back at me. 

Seeing him head for the flight field leaves me with a sense of sadness. It really was just me and Bodhi now. What happens when he graduates and I'm left here by myself? The thought is shoved to the back of my head, another thing I can't bear to think about right now. 

Taking Garrick's advice, I make my way back to the gathering hall. Violet is exiting, and by the look of the shadows, I'm sure she's on her way to meet Xaden.

"Hey," I say in passing. 

"You look like you need a drink," She replies, barely giving me a second look. Her time with Xaden is limited, and even though they're not on the greatest of terms, I know she still wants to see him off. 

"Look who decided to join us," Sawyer grins when I take a seat next to Imogen. 

"I was convinced you'd stay locked up in your room for the rest of the night," Rhiannon says. 

Imogen slides me her mug of wine, and I don't even hesitate before taking a sip. The taste is sweeter than I expected, but I don't mind. I quietly thank her. She looks at me like I'm as fragile as the pitchers the wine rests in and I'll break if dropped at any moment. 

It's apparent upon further observation that everyone in the gathering hall is either entirely wasted or on their way to it. I suppose this is what the next five days will look like while we prepare for the next Conscription Day. Maybe I should take advantage of the time being placed in front of me and use it to forget. 

"Imogen left the battle with a split lip. How did you get your limp?" The question from Nadine catches me off guard, and the way I recoil is visibly noticeable. 

"Maybe I've had it all along." I ignore her and down the rest of the wine from Imogen. She pours me another glass to the brim with ale this time, and I'm eternally thankful. 

There's no telling how many glasses of ale, wine, lemonade, you name it, I've downed within the hour. I'm positive that I've never drunk this much in my life, and I'm colossally regretting it when I try to get back to my room and stumble into the wall. The alcohol was supposed to numb the ache of what I've felt since leaving Resson, but all it's done is amplify it. All I can think of is the life leaving Liam's eyes while I drained the pain from him. 

"Woah, Ania." It takes a second for my vision to focus, but eventually, Ridoc's face comes into view. He's got my face in his hands, and he's saying something, but his words sound muffled. It takes everything in me to listen to what he's saying. "Come on, I'll take you to your room." 

He lifts my arm over his shoulder and helps me to my room. How I somehow managed to drink more than Ridoc Gamlyn astounds me. Once we're in, he lies me down on my bed and takes my shoes off for me. 

"What is it?" I feel the bed dip next to me with his weight as he pulls the blanket over me. His thumb brushes my cheek, and it's then that I realize I'm crying. 

I shake my head, knowing there isn't anything I could tell him that wouldn't give away the full story. "I don't know why I'm crying."

"I know why," He says quietly. "We don't have to talk about it now. But I'm always gonna be here for you, Ania." 

He's a good friend, and it hurts that I can't be honest with him. All he knows is that we saw battle. He'll never know the true extent of what we went through in Resson, and there's a chance I'll never be able to tell him. It's just another thing I'll have to carry. 

"I had to dismount Gleigeal," I whisper, unable to stop the word vomit threatening to spill out of me. "That's why I have a limp. It should go away soon."

His eyes narrow as he tries to process my words. It seems like he realizes that I'm circling back to Nadine's question from earlier because he brushes the hair that's fallen onto my face. The interaction is sobering. 

"I'm sorry," He says. 

The tears flow uncontrollably at that point, and the weight of everything from the past week comes crashing down on me like a landslide. Everything I've forced myself to not feel is overwhelming me all at once, and the sobs that rack my chest are something I've never felt before. I've had panic attacks and anxiety attacks but the way I'm crying now isn't from either. 

It's grief. 

Something I don't think I've ever allowed myself to feel in its pure form. Not since my parents and Beckett. The weight of Resson sitting on my chest. Soleil. Liam. 

I will be grieving him for the rest of my life. Grieving the time I should've spent more with him. Grieving the time I should've had left with him. He was so young. He had so much life in front of him. 

My heart fucking aches and throbs and refuses to stop. It genuinely feels like its being split in two, tendon by tendon. 

It could just be me finally coming to terms with what I went through the past week, but I know it's so much more than that. Going home to Aretia might've been the cherry on top of it all, but the way it hits me all at once leaves me gasping for air. I can't even reach into my head where the Riorson House library is to try and control my own emotions considering I've been shut off from my dragon's power. 

"What can I do, Ania?" Ridoc asks, slightly panicked. I'd feel embarrassed if I had half the mind. He climbs onto the bed, pulling me into his arms allowing me the breakdown I should've given myself years ago. 

My eyes are stinging, my cheeks wet from the nonstop flow of tears spilling from my eyes. My throat is so tight that it hurts to breathe and all I can do is cling to Ridoc's tunic for some sort of semblance that he's still here with me. 

"It's okay," He strokes my hair and it dawns on me that he's not the person I want here. "You're okay."

I'm eternally grateful that he's here to steady me as much as he can in this moment, but he isn't who I want. He's not who should be holding me. 

I've nearly cried myself to sleep, hiccuping, and barely any tears are left with Ridoc gently rubbing my back. The door swings open and I know better that only a select few have the privilege of doing so. 

"Get out." My head turns, and the broad figure filling the doorway gives me a sigh of relief. 

Ridoc doesn't hesitate, standing from my bed after gently removing me from his arms. I grab his hand just before he's far enough and he turns to look at me.

"Thank you," I whisper. It shouldn't go unnoticed that he was here for me. 

"Of course, Ania." He gives me a small smile before making his way toward the door. He and Bodhi seemingly size each other up before Ridoc whispers something that I can't hear. He's barely into the corridor before Bodhi slams the door shut behind him. 

He kicks off his shoes quickly and climbs into bed with me and I immediately wrap myself around him. My body fits perfectly into his and he smells of vetiver, sandalwood, and home and he's everything I need. His arms slide around my waist, pulling me tightly into his chest and the sobs force themselves out of me once more. 

"I'm sorry," I cry, keeping my face pressed into his shoulder. 

"Don't be sorry. It's okay. It's alright, sunshine." His voice is soft as he pulls my face away to look at me. He brushes the present tears off my cheek. 

"Sunshine," The word conjures so many emotions within me when I repeat his nickname for me. "How did you know?"

"Gleigeal told Cuir that you needed me," He says quietly. His fingers trace patterns up and down my spine, easing me back into a calm state.

I feel pathetic. Riders are supposed to be strong. Yet I'm crying the most I've let myself in years. Not once since I entered the quadrant have I seen a single tear shed by anybody in public. 

"Never feel ashamed for what you feel. If you must cry, then cry. I warned you that shielding yourself from your emotions wasn't healthy." Gleigeal's voice startles me. "I've told you several times, that you were chosen to be my rider for a reason. I knew the person you'd grow to be."

"Why was Ridoc here?" He asks me after a few moments of silence. It's not accusatory in the slightest.

"I drank too much and he helped me back," I reply. "Nothing happened." 

"He worries that Cadet Gamlyn has different intentions," Gleigeal says. 

"What? Ridoc and I already tested those waters and trust me. They're cold." I say down my bond.

"Does he know that?" He's referring to Ridoc. I have the urge to hide myself from the embarrassment at the memory of me kissing him after Threshing. But we both agreed that wasn't a path we should go down. We're better as friends and that's not something I'd ever be willing to put at risk.

"I know," He smiles down at me, kissing my nose. 

"And I never slept with him." I finally admit. "Ridoc is just a good friend." 

"Oh, I know." He says matter of factly. 

"What do you mean 'you know'? You made such a big deal out of it last year." I'm on the defense now. 

I had been so angry with him for assuming Ridoc and I had slept together. Sure, I know it didn't look the best to have him scrambling out of my room without his shirt or the handful of times I'd left his room in the mornings after we platonically shared a bed, but he never even asked. 

"I mean I know you, Ani." A light laugh leaves his lips at the disbelief on my face. "If you slept with him, you would've just said so. The way you danced around it told me you weren't telling the whole truth. You forget we grew up together." 

"I implied it." I scoff. 

"And I saw through the implication," He smiles. "Feel better?" 

"Yeah, I just..." I sigh and try to form the words. Even though things are the way they are between us, opening up still seems like a chore and it draws a lot from me. 

"Take your time," His thumb brushes against my cheek. I realized then that his arm, previously in a sling, was now in a cast. He was supposed to be getting it mended today, that's why I didn't see him at all. 

"Um..." I take a deep breath and sit up, folding my hands in my lap. I'm just now getting the feeling back into my fingertips, I can't imagine how long it'd take if Brennan hadn't mended the nerve damage. He sits up with me, his hand reassuringly resting on my knee, reminding me that he's here for me. "I was thinking about Liam. Then my parents and Beckett. And Resson. I think I just cracked under its weight." 

"I want to be here for you," His thumb circles gently on my thigh, "You don't have to carry this alone. Let me help." 

When I turn to look at him, there's a shift in everything I've been feeling. Just the sight of him eases the intensity of every emotion I've gone through tonight. The simple way his eyes scan mine for any certainty that what he's doing is helping. The gentle brush of his fingertips against my skin. The warmth of his body enveloping mine, making everything better. As a rider, nothing will ever be perfect again in my life, but as long as he's here, I have all I need.

The idea of it scares me, needing him more than he'd ever need me. There's a chance that one day this will all disappear. He could decide he doesn't feel the same way, or worse considering the line of work we're entering, I could unimaginably lose him.

There are not enough years left in my life to make up for the time I deserve to spend with him. He's been there for as long as I can remember, since before I could walk. There isn't a world where he's not irrevocably mine. And I his. This had been in the cards for us all along, whether we'd been betrothed or not. Our paths had been set to intertwine since our childhoods. 

"Come here," He cups my jaw between his thumb and forefinger and pulls my lips to his in a gentle kiss. 

My fingers instinctively tangle into the dark curls at the base of his neck. He somehow manages to pull me closer, his arms sliding back around my waist. He pulls me down onto his chest as he falls backward into my mattress. I laugh softly against his lips, pulling away so I can look at him. 

He pushes my hair over my shoulder so it's out of my face and pecks my lips, "We have so much free time over the next five days and I intend to spend just about every second of it with you." 

"Is that a threat?" I tease, running my fingers through his curls. 

"That's a promise, Cadet Alistair," He tilts his head up, kissing me again. He flips us over and presses his weight onto me. "Hey." 

"Hey." I smile softly, unable to keep myself from sniffling. My eyes feel puffy in the aftermath of my breakdown, but he doesn't seem to notice or care. 

"I love you." He says and the way his eyes flicker down to my lips is unmistakable. 

"Tell me you mean it," The words come out barely above a whisper as I trace his jawline with my finger. He takes my hand into his and kisses the soft skin of my palm.

"I've never meant anything more," His eyes don't leave mine.

The next morning Bodhi and I wake up before the first bell, my bare chest pressed against his, the sun just peeking through the windows. I reach my fingertips out and watch the light stream through my fingers, sighing when I feel nothing from it. How long does Gleigeal expect me to live without my power?

"He's not punishing you, you know," Bodhi says, sleep laced through his tone. His morning voice is too attractive to put into words. He reaches his hand up and laces his fingers through mine, bringing the back of my hand to his lips. 

"What do you mean?" I ask.

"You feel like Gleigeal is punishing you by taking your power. The reality is that he's protecting you," Bodhi tells me. He sits up before I can argue and kisses my forehead. 

I use the sheet to cover my chest as I lean against the headboard and watch him gather his clothes off the ground, redressing himself. "It feels like punishment." 

"I promise you, it's not." He winks at me, glancing at himself in the mirror before he makes his way toward the door. "I'll see you tonight. Meet me in the gathering hall when the party starts." 

Preparing for the first years might be more annoying than the chore duty I had before Threshing. However, having the rest of the day to do whatever I please is quite nice. I utilize most of my free time hidden away in my room, catching up on sleep. You'd think a week after burnout I would be feeling like my normal self again, but sleep is the easiest thing to find. 

It's my last official free day before Orientation and I want to take advantage of it. 

I'm halfway back to my room from the flight field when Ridoc stops me in the courtyard. 

"Are you gonna avoid us forever?" There's a slight annoyance in his tone, one I've never heard before. 

"I'm not avoiding anyone," I fold my arms across my chest and lean against the wall. 

"You haven't come to any of the parties this week except after graduation. You haven't eaten with us. You're not meeting us in the gym. What's going on?" He lists off the number of things I've intentionally done this week and I can't help but sigh. "Look, Ania. Whatever you're going through, whatever you went through, we want to help you and be there for you. But we can't if you keep shutting us out." 

"I just need space right now to sort through my shit. That's all." My guard has been set in stone since we got back to Basgiath. I haven't even so much as had a chance to talk to Violet which is who I probably need to see the most. 

"Space? That's bullshit, Ania, you know it." He laughs in disbelief, shaking his head. "Don't say you need space when the Section Leader has spent every night in your room since you got back." 

"I'm not doing this with you," I push my back off the wall. Bodhi will not be a part of this argument.

This is not an argument I'm even willing to have. Not when there's no way for me to ensure I won't say something I regret. Ridoc is pissed and I'm on my way to being equally as pissed as he is, but not once since I've met him have I ever seen him angry. 

"Look," He grabs my wrist and I immediately pull away, "I will never understand what you and Violet went through. But I want to try. I want to be there for you. You're one of my best friends and when you didn't return on time, I was so worried that I lost you guys. Please, just let us be there for you." 

I run a hand through my hair and watch the way hurt flashes across his eyes. Guilt rattles me to my core. Keeping the truth from those who want to do nothing but care for me is ridiculously hard. Not only are they my squad mates, they're my friends. I can't avoid them and shut them out forever. 

"I'm sorry," I say truthfully. "I'm just having a hard time processing everything." 

"I know you may not be ready to talk about it and that's one hundred percent fine, but don't shut me out." He rests his hands on his hips. 

"I burnt out," I tell him. "After I dismounted Gleigeal, I burnt out. And I almost died. Bodhi... he was there for me and made sure I lived."

That part feels freeing to say. He doesn't need to know how or why, but it's just a sliver of the truth that will hold him over and make it easier for me to move through my day-to-day. 

"I had no idea," He whispers. He hesitates before pulling me into a hug and I allow it after tensing for a moment. 

Ridoc was easily one of the first people I considered a friend in the quadrant and he may be one of the best I have. It's not fair to him for me to not reciprocate what he's giving. Not when he's doing his best to make it work. 

"Then I should thank him. For bringing you back safe." He says when he pulls away. 

I wrap an arm around my midsection and then pinch the bridge of my nose with a sigh. 

"Bodhi and I... well Xaden and Garrick too, we all grew up together," I tell him. Hopefully, he takes the news better than Violet did, but that was a completely different circumstance. 

"Oh." Is all he says.

"I'm sorry for keeping that from you. I honestly wanted nothing to do with them when I got here, but things changed." I explain. 

"No, no. I don't blame you. It's just... it makes a lot of sense now." He nods. "So, you and Bodhi are like a thing now, then?" 

"It seems that way," I don't know how to say it with Gleigeal's words replaying in my head. 

"As long as he treats you right," Ridoc says and I immediately nod.

"He does. I swear." 

Realization settles in his gaze and it makes my heart pound. I don't want to think about the way that this could've possibly hurt him. I always just assumed the night of Threshing we both agreed and felt the same way that friendship suited us. 

"Okay," He nods once more. 

Ridoc walks me back to my room and I'm grateful when Violet is exiting her's. 

"Hey, do you have a second?" I ask before she can turn away from me. She nods and I grab her hand pulling her into my room. "I'll see you later, Ridoc."

"See you later," He smiles. "That's pretty cool, by the way. Who did that?" He gestures to the door. 

 "Xaden," I reply. His lips form into an O shape and he nods. 

"Right." 

With that he's turning on his heel and down the hall. Violet sits in the chair at my desk and I sit on the bed. I almost don't know where to start with her. We barely spoke in Aretia and on top of that prior to Resson I'm convinced she hated me and considered me a liar. 

"How are you doing?" The words awkwardly tumble out of my mouth. 

"Good, I think. You? You kind of just keep hiding in here." She says, folding her hands in her lap. It's slightly comforting to know she feels just as awkward as I do. 

"I'm tired," I answer honestly and then pause. "But hiding in here makes it easier to lie to them."

"They don't exactly have an instruction manual on lying to the people you care about. 'Selective truths' is what Xaden said to me before he left," She says. 

Selective truths. 

Exactly what I just gave Ridoc. That's all we can give our friends until further notice. The chance that they never accept the truth doesn't sit right with me. 

"Are you fully recovered?" She asks and I laugh lightly. 

"My hip is fucked up, but I think it's just about healed. I also don't feel as tired as I did when we got back. Normal, I guess. Slowly getting back to normal," I don't know why it feels so hard to talk to her after what we just went through together. 

"After Liam," she swallows and I understand, "I saw you and Gleigeal with the wyvern. Then when I saw you and that venin, Gleigeal was nowhere to be seen and I was rightfully terrified. When I woke up and remembered everything, I was scared Xaden would tell me he buried you too. I knew that was something he wouldn't survive." 

Words refuse to come out, mostly because I simply can't arrange them into a proper sentence. I do my best and even though it takes a moment, they eventually materialize. 

"Well, I'm told we survived because of you and Xaden," I offer a small smile. "So thank you." 

"We'll get through this, Ania," She tells me, "There's no right way to navigate it, but we'll figure it out. Together."

"Together." I nod.

"Where are we going?" I laugh as Bodhi drags me through the forest. There are a few hours til curfew and I can barely see in front of my feet with the sun dipping below the horizon. There's a small amount of natural light left. "I'm not gonna be able to light the way once it's dark, you know." 

"Just be patient. You've never been patient, Ani. It might be your fatal flaw." He glances back at me and my lips part in a dramatic gasp.

"I am too patient," I argue. "I might be the most patient out of all you boys." 

"You know who was the most impatient?" He asks.

"Beckett," We answer at the same time with a laugh. 

Remembering him these days is an easier thing to do. His memory no longer brings me to anger. I can simply remember him and be grateful that I got to have him as a brother. 

He leads me through a clearing next to the lake and I have to stop in my tracks when I see a circle of dimly lit mage lights surrounding a blanket with a small basket that seemingly is filled with food. 

"What is this?" I ask, looking at him. 

"I figured it was about time I took you on a date," He smiles cheekily. 

"Bodhi," His name is just above a whisper off my lips and I let him pull me to the blanket. 

"Ani," He mimics my tone, his hands sliding around my waist as he kisses me. 

My arms wrap around his neck as I stand on my toes to deepen the kiss. My fingers brush through his dark curls as his tongue slips past my lips and glides against mine. Gods, he's perfect. 

"This is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done," I say, observing the scene in front of me. 

"My lady," He teases, gesturing me to sit down. I sit next to him with my knees tucked to the side as he pulls the basket toward us. "You should've seen me trying to sneak this out of the kitchen."

"I can only imagine," I smile as he opens a small pack of fruit. "Bodhi, I'm serious. This is... I don't even know what to say." 

The way he feeds me the piece of fruit is cliche but I don't mind. Once the sun fully sets and the only light besides the mage lights gifted to us is the moon, and after we're full from the fruit and bread he's brought, he tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. 

"I love when you wear your hair down," He tells me. We're laid out, both of us propped up on our elbows as we face each other. 

"Enjoy it now because after tomorrow it'll be up for most of the year," I tell him. "Speaking of... Orientation was today. RSC?" 

He takes a deep breath, "It's tough, I won't lie to you. But, your squad is ridiculously tight-knit, more than any that I've seen in my time here. You guys are going to be fine." 

The warmth of the July air clings to my skin and I annoyingly tug at the collar of my long sleeve tunic I've been forced to wear since our return. Bodhi stands up and tugs his shirt off, followed by his boots and pants, til he's left in nothing but his briefs. 

"What are you doing?" I laugh as he pulls me to my feet. His hands slide under the hem of my tunic and he slowly pulls it over my head. 

"We're going for a dip," He tells me, his fingers deftly unbuttoning my pants. He tugs them down my thighs and helps me step out of them, taking a moment to kiss the scar where Fionn had stabbed me at Threshing. 

The water is at a comfortable temperature and is so refreshing that I vocalize a sigh once the water reaches our necks. He pulls me to him and I wrap my legs around his waist, resting my chin on his shoulder. 

"Thank you for tonight. It was really special," I say quietly as I watch the reflection of the moon ripple with our movement. 

After the Apostasy I never imagined that I'd find myself this comfortable with someone again. Let alone Bodhi Durran. Yet, here we are. He's everything to me and more. 

"Does this mean I can call you my girlfriend?" He pulls back slightly so that I can look at him. 

The question makes my cheeks heat up. I'd been a girlfriend one other time in my life and I hated the person I called my boyfriend. I'd dated him out of spite and boredom and we broke it off after four months. The sex hadn't even been good. The mere idea of being a girlfriend to Bodhi Durran has my stomach tied in knots but in the best way. 

The way the moonlight softly illuminates his features is nothing more than picturesque and I want the image ingrained into my memory forever. Paint it on my tombstone if one must. I trail my finger down the bridge of his nose, a feature of his I remember him being insecure about as a preteen, though it's one of my favorites. 

"Hmm, let me think about it," I can't help the cheesy smile that plasters my face. 

"It's settled." He shakes his head and leans in to kiss me right before he holds my body flush against his and dunks us both under the water. 

"Vile. Just vile," I laugh when we resurface as he uses his thumbs to brush the water from my face. 

I try to pull away but he grips my hands and pulls me back to him. He holds my wrists under the moonlight and I jerk backward. The discoloration didn't take long to become my least favorite thing about myself. 

He notices my discomfort and lets my wrists go, his hands finding my waist once more. He holds me under the moonlight and a comfortable silence settles over us. 

Conscription Day has already been slightly more brutal than the last. Between Liam's sister, Sloane, hating Violet and me, and picking unnecessary fights with my new wingleader, Dain fucking Aetos, it feels impossible to get through the rest of the day without anyone getting on my Gods damned nerves more than they already have. 

"You're one step away from the anger issues that plagued you last year," Gleigeal says and I roll my eyes.

"Oh, is that why I'm still cut off?" I reply annoyance laced through my tone."Being bitter with me will not aid you in getting your way," He grumbles. 

I'm placed between Ridoc and Violet in formation as Panchek's voice fills the courtyard like nails on a chalkboard. The day hasn't been that bad when you think about it, I'm just irritatingly on edge today for some reason. Watching Dain try to fill the role that Xaden had last year is almost laughable, but I can't help but wish Xaden were still up there. 

When the wingleader's dragons join us in the courtyard, I hardly pay attention. The reaction of some of the first years pushes me farther past the point of agitation that I'm already sitting at. I just want us to be dismissed so I can find myself in bed for the rest of the night. 

"Are you okay?" Ridoc asks, glancing at me. 

"I'm fine," I sigh. My fingers dig into my palms and I realize that one of the reasons I'm so pissed off is because of how fucking hot I am. I'd be surprised if this long sleeve didn't have sweat stains down my back. It just reminds me why I have to wear it and the memories of Resson flood my mind. Catching sight of Sloane in the corner of my eye nearly pushes me over the edge. She looks so much like Liam. I tug at the collar and force myself to take a deep breath.

Control it. Don't let it control you.

"You don't seem fine, Ania," He whispers. 

"Ania, calm down." Violet's voice is quiet but firm as she grips my wrist into her hand. 

Now is not the time for a fucking panic attack. What the hell has gotten into me over the past couple of days?

"Show me you can ground without magic and then we'll discuss reopening the channel," Gleigeal says. 

Anger shakes me to my core. No way he's using this as a lesson. My breaths are deep but shaky and I hyper-fixate on the way that Violet has my wrist in a death grip. I cannot do this in formation, not in front of the entire quadrant. 

My focus is pulled when a group of first-year scrams by. That just pisses me off more, knowing that they're seconds away from being torched. 

"Eyes forward," Gleigeal's voice is filled with panic. My head snaps to the front of the formation and my eyes land on a large Orange that I don't recognize. I let my gaze drop for a second and notice Bodhi, who shakes his head slightly. It's hard to tell from this distance but he looks worried. 

Bodhi's eyes widen as he takes off in a run just as Violet's scream fills my ears. He's forced to stop when the Orange curls his tongue.

"Get down!" She lunges for Sloane and before I can even think to move, Ridoc pulls my chest to his, throwing us both to the ground. 

I cling to him tightly as he does his best to keep his arms around my head. I squeeze my eyes shut tightly doing my best to drown out the screams around us. My breath is hitched in my throat and I refuse to let it go, knowing if I do, it'll be my last. The blaze against my back is scorching and I'm grateful that Ridoc protects my head. 

I finally let myself breathe when Ridoc helps me to my feet. I don't even want to look at the remnants of what just happened behind us. I wince when Ridoc turns me to look at my back. I watch as Violet pulls her shirt off in her hand and wish I had the scales she does. 

"Gods, Ania," He sucks in a breath and I don't even want to know what it looks like.

"Ania!" Gleigeal shouts. 

"I'm fine. I think," I reply down our bond. My eyes find Bodhi who is in the same place I last saw him in, relief written over his face when he sees me standing. My skin feels nothing short of melting and I have to hold on to Ridoc to steady myself. I'm thankful when I see that the sleeves of my uniform are still intact hiding the gray prints pressed permanently into my skin. The cool air against my skin tells me the back of it is no longer there.

"Get back in formation! Riders do not balk at fire!" Panchek screams over the chaos. 

Violet steps toward me, pulling Imogen with her as we fall back in line. 

"Ciaran is dead," Imogen whispers, and my stomach hits my feet. 

I let my eyes find the pile of ash where I know he'd previously been standing and nausea takes over. 

"Conspiratize later. I need your focus at one hundred," Gleigeal snaps, knowing where my brain is headed. 

Bodhi finds me immediately after formation is dismissed and I'm grateful when I think that Tairn might've bought our squad some sort of protection after his conflict with Solas, the orange who torched a large chunk of the quadrant. 

His hands cup my cheeks and he looks me over. "Your back, Ani." 

"It's fine. Violet's too." I say, looking around for her but she's already disappeared, likely to the healers where I want to be. 

"Violet has scales." He tells me as if I don't already know. He turns to Ridoc who hasn't left my side. "Thank you. For protecting her."

"No need to thank me," He shakes his head once. "She needs a healer." The way Bodhi's jaw tightens tells me he's doing his best to not roll his eyes at Ridoc.

That night, after three hours in the healer's quadrant, Bodhi is sitting criss-cross on my bed, gently spreading healing ointment into my skin. I can barely feel his touch with the way the pain meds they gave me have me feeling nearly entirely numb. I sit up when he finishes and take a deep breath when I study his face. 

"Something is going on, something we don't know about," He finally says, reaching for my hand. "With you being cut off, I don't think it's a good idea for you to come on drops." 

"What?" I raise my voice. "That's not fair."

"It is fair and it's not an argument. Until you have your power back, you're not coming. I'm not fighting with you about this." He snaps and I close my mouth. "You and Violet stay here. Stay out of trouble and don't draw attention to yourselves." 

"What happened today was intentional," I say quietly. Saying it out loud makes it real. 

"I don't want to say that's what happened, but it seems that way." He replies, cupping my cheek. 

Surviving second year just got a lot harder.

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[honeyhour]

she absolutely should’ve predicted that one, yet it isn’t until the words leave his mouth that este realises she accidentally gave him the perfect set-up. the urge to laugh is a strong one, but she bites down into her lip to hold it back and is betrayed by the sudden hitch in her breath. “yeah, i bet. once wasn’t enough for you?” if he feels even half of what she does, it never could be. all it took was one little taste to ensure she couldn't possibly dream of letting it end there. “usually music would come first, but there’s a lot of stuff to consider for that — how long it is and if i’ll be able to stand listening to it over and over again while i practice are both big ones. with competitions, there are required elements, like certain types of jumps and spins that need to be included, so the music has to make sense to fit those in too. you’re given points based on how difficult each move is and how well you do it which means they’re pretty important… feel free to cut me off anytime, by the way.” she doesn’t often get asked questions about skating or have any reason to talk about it at length with someone who isn’t already a part of that world, and she can feel the exact moment when explaining turns into rambling. it’s probably smart to not immediately overwhelm him. “sounds like chaos, but i’m in... this will give you enough time to start thinking up potential duets.” at least the combination of drinking and singing will be a decent distraction from worrying about making a good impression on his friends. then again, maybe it doesn’t matter so much. who knows if she’ll ever see them again after that? “i am heroic, aren’t i?” her voice is equally as quiet; more of an afterthought as she continues with the affectionate brushes of her mouth to his. once one ends, the gap is closed again before either of them are able to miss the feeling. “lucky for you, i’m happy to accept this form of payment.”

"maybe? maybe not. i guess you'll have to do a knowledge check at random one of these days." and he does try and remember everything about her, the things that he could potentially be quizzed on. her favorite color, a few snack preferences, when she takes her teas and coffees. the easiest thing to predict is that inevitable something she does when his head inflates a millimeter too big, having totally called his shot on how she'd react to that. "you're right, i'm basically just a big, cocky storage unit. sucks that i can't really gain inches but i can put a few inches in you instead." the line falls as easily as he breathes, a casual smile replacing anything that was once exaggerated. prefers subtlety when it comes to things like that just to test whether he's still got enough skill to catch her off-guard. "do you typically figure out your music first or after you polish your routine? i imagine since those two have to sync up, you might even have to do them side-by-side...?" she'll have to excuse all of the dumb questions thrown her way; he really is interested in the mechanics of it all. just didn't know where else to start so he figures throwing wet paper towels to see what sticks is a good way to kick things up. "oh shit, we should totally do karaoke then! the requirement is that we also drink while we sing but it could be fun? can make it just a duo thing or invite some of my friends. or your friends. whatever you want since you won't turn it down." his first assumption is that she's far more talented than she lets on but even if they just end up screeching the whole night, there's no doubt they'll enjoy themselves by the time its over. "damn, i have a whole protector now and everything.... my fuckin' hero," murmurs softly as he returns the kiss fully, having missed her lips in the five minutes its been since the last one.

[syndrossi]

Hi! I think there's was already an ask similar to this one, in which case sort for repeating myself, but... So in your Resonant and various aus of it, how does Jon handle going from "the honorable Ned Stark's only shame" to "the Rogue Prince's greatest pride and joy"?

I mean the two men are mirror images of one another in ways that Jon probably notices. He might not know it, but Daemon also lied for him just like Ned, but unlike Ned, he is very committed to consistently choosing the twins as priority, while Ned was too weak willed to choose between Robert and Jon and by allowing Jon to the Wall and never saying anything of the truth would even say he chose Robert.

I mean, saving a baby from certain death is not a hard decision especially when it is your sister's, but sometimes it might feel as a duty. An honorable duty, but still. Meanwhile, Daemon had all the outs but he still careened headfirst into most devoted fatherhood. Its funny that the kind of person Ned would look down on for his overall reputation does a better job than he did... (for the record, I am not anti-Ned)

I think Ned shows himself in the best light in Restoration AU in terms of risking a great deal for two children that, as far as he knows, are entirely unrelated to him (but might be Jon's uncles). A lot of what he's risking is for his Jon, because their presence/existence would bring a lot of dangerous scrutiny to Jon if he doesn't provide an alternative explanation. ("Uh...they're my bastards too!")

But it also gives r!Jon a fresh window into what it was like growing up as a bastard, scorned and treated differently. Yes, it was to save him, but it still hurts. I've said it before, but there are two different kinds of bravery, and Ned shows one of them in risking his family's safety to take Jon in. But the other is emotional vulnerability/bravery. He could have let himself be more open in his love for Jon (albeit at the cost of hurting Cat)--or even told him the truth when he was old enough to keep quiet about it. I don't know how much of it was Ned still struggling to face the trauma of that dark period of his life (father and brother essentially tortured to death, his sister kidnapped for what he assumes is rape and then dead in childbirth, and then at the end of the war, his best friend celebrating the atrocity of Elia's, Rhaenys's, and Aegon's murders).

Jon is a constant reminder of that. Every day Ned must look at him and see both Lyanna and the rest of Jon's murdered kin. So I think he kept a distance as much out of self-preservation as protecting Jon.

So r!Jon has a better understanding of Ned's bravery and his avoidance by getting to witness it almost as an outsider.

In Restoration and the other AUs, there's a lot more distance between him and his childhood/Ned, so it's hard to hold a candle to Daemon's inferno. And Daemon is working from an entirely difference set of circumstances! He has desperately wanted sons of his own, and although they have a connection to a family he has no love for, he happily ignores it. He doesn't having the looming threat of Robert swooping in, discovering the truth, and ordering his son(s) killed. The only thing he has to hide is their bastard status, and like you said, Jon doesn't know about that, since he addressed it so effectively!

So Daemon's baggage is entirely unrelated to his children. It's mostly with his brother, which you could squint and find some parallels with for Ned-Robert (foster brothers, Robert also as king), but again, Viserys has no beef with his sons--quite the opposite! So Daemon is free to be ferocious in his love, and that's also his personality, hence the inferno.

I doubt Jon is going that deep in his comparisons, though. He knows the Ned loved him, but at a distance. And he knows that Daemon will scour the world to find them, and leap onto a boat to skewer a man trying to kidnap them. I do wonder if he, on some subconscious level, equates the openness of Daemon's love at all to not being a bastard.

As far as how he handles it...we see some of Jon's struggle sprinkled throughout Resonant. His thoughts that he doesn't deserve it, that he's not a child, the pangs when he sees how loved and accepted Rhaenyra's sons are by Laenor and Rhaenys. He tries convincing himself he's not desperately thirsty as he drinks it all in.

(And then we have Rhaegar, and the way that Jon can idealize what being his son might have been like, based on Resonant!Rhaegar's personality. Ned as "what was," Daemon as "what is," and Rhaegar as "what could have been." Jon's fury at Robert Baratheon is something that we joke about a lot, but it's very real for him.)

I think it will take testing the boundaries of Daemon's love for him/them repeatedly for Jon to finally accept it as unconditional. Saving them from a would-be kidnapper is one thing--showing that he still loves them through tough times is another. Does he have to be the perfect son, the way that Jon Snow tried to be the perfect bastard (and it was still never enough)?

[miramelo]

I’m on my hands and knees I need more hidden in the garden au lore. Specifically- I have these questions

Does sy consider herself a trans woman in ur au? Or is it a self defense mechanism that will never go away

Is sy the head disciple then and PLEASE WHATS THE RELATIONSHIP BEFWREN HER AND BINGHE

also what’s her relationship w the other peak lords?? Does she find out abt sqh being airplane?

I love this au I’m gonna screaaaaaammmmkkmm

Other comments

Waiter waiter! More Shen yuan angst please!

And

Finally some good fucking food

The more I like a character the more I have to make them suffer<3

The thing with SY gender Is a little complicated, there's ups and downs, she does use It a a defense mechanisms but that makes It so she's paranoid AND afraid of what people will do if they find out(they would probably brush It off but SY brain blows It out of proporcion and truly believes If they find out=she will die, either as colateral or under gruesome circunstancias, thinks Sj will trow him away.

he even forgets he isn't a cis woman in more than one ocasión when she's older

He doesn't know If it's because it makes him feel safe(ish) or because he wants to be a woman just because he can, he honestly never thought about changing his body to make his cover easier and air tight and he doesn't know If he will want to in the future.

She's not the head disciple, at least not when LBH arrives at the peak. She does help around and does work that the head disciple should do but she's more like SJ secretary, sometimes acts like a substitute teacher and gives one on one to those that REALLY need help catching up or If they want to advance the curriculum.

The relationship he has with LBH Is... How do I say this. Imagine you are born in a world with a protagonist, he might suffer but he will end up safe no matter what, revered and adored by hundreds.

And then there's you, who the world beat and who doesn't know If they will live another day, your suffering doesn't mean you will be safe or that things will get better. You are just a stepping stone, an unnamed background character. Your fate and the fate of a lot of people you know depends on not making this person mad. Are you nice to him because you actually want to or because you are afraid?

LBH ends up joining their group(SY, NYY, MF) because he needs to catch up, and also they aré the nicer shixiong he has

At first, MF ignores him for the most part, NYY treats him like a kid much younger than he is and SY only interviene If others are ganging up on him.

SY can't be showing favoritism for no reason, first LBH has to prove himself to his martial siblings, LBH gets a puppy crush just because SY acts like a decent human being. That's how starved for affection he Is. He gets jealous of MF and NYY but they end up being friends.

he admires SY after finding out she's also from a humble background vía NYY, it's a thing that most people forget. And starts to follow their group around when he has free time.

SY Is actually quite liked and respected by the peak lords because of his personality, she's smart but humble, patient but not a pushover, willing to fight for what she believes but mediates the Situation and doesn't just jump to the gun sword

A lot of them treat her like a favored(their only) meimei, a more likeable version of SQQ.

She does have problems with 3 of them:

QQQ still can't believe SY refused to enter or change to her peak once she became a disciple officially. She doesn't talk or think highly of SQQ which means SY doesn't like her and did try to fight her once or twice when she was younger after she asked and implied unsavory things.

LQG has the habit of putting his foot in his mouth, he acts before he thinks and SY usually chews him out(in a passive-agressive backhanded way that usually sounds nice) when he tries to brush off and justify what he does wrong because he believes it's right, he's also biased against SQQ and often fight because of that so SY has to mediate OBVIOUSLY takin' her shizun's side.

SQH creeps SY out, he stares at her, sometimes too intensely. When SY arrived at the peak she realized that he tried to be with her alone more than once, tried to bribe her and she thinks the worst(because It hadn't been too long since she got out of a traumatic situation) she doesn't trust him at all knowing what she does and tells SQQ about It so he beats the crap out of him but doesn't tell anyone why.

When she does find out about SQH being basically god she gets so angry and breaks down, SQH feels horrible finding out what SY has been throught(still doesn't know she's not cis) which causes another misunderstanding but after they fix that he becomes like an uncle SY can vent to and run to when everything Is too much and she doesn't want to burden SQQ

SPOILER FOR THE AU:

SY Is truly afraid during the whole conference/abyss event but not because of LBH but because It looks like she can't fight fate. SQQ arrives and sees SY on the ground looking scared of LBH and ofc he pushes the beast away from her. The last thing LBH hears Is SY screaming(qi deviation)

So LBH doesn't think SY hates him but believes that she is terrified of him and he thinks that's much worse.

SY fights SHL but still gets without a cure so her days are counted but she thinks dying like that Is a kindness for her, she becomes more ruthless with others because she thinks that gives them a higher chance of survival before she dies.

[epiphainie]

i agree with your tommy meta post but mannn, why would he take the risk when buck did nothing to show him he wants him or wanted him back?

edit: this post is tagged bucktommy so my moots who don't go here can avoid it. it's not a negative post about them at all but it's a rant post i wouldn't put in the tag otherwise.

i say this in my gentlest voice... that post's thesis is literally "tommy should do it ESPECIALLY if he's scared that buck doesn't feel the same"

on that topic, i'll actually take this ask to look at this from buck's pov because i see twenty posts in a row about "let's look at how tommy feels" as if that's literally not what we talk about with every single post, so like what did tommy do that's different to buck that buck is expected to know that tommy wants him or loves him?

"buck didn't tell him he was thinking about him" yes and what tommy said was he wanted to reach out for... what exactly? for all buck knows he wanted to clear the air or hook up, not that he's been pining for him or wanted a second chance. unfair reading for buck's ability to pick up what tommy obviously meant? i agree but not as unfair as the reading that tommy "doesn't know buck wanted a second chance" because buck only looked at him with hopeful eyes and brightened up like the sun when he said "you want to try again?" instead of "i want to try again too and i'm spelling this out to you in case you don't get it" because tommy is that in need of verbal confirmation, he can't know otherwise.

buck, on the other hand tho should've known that tommy would stay in the morning. like, "i thought you'd leave?" ouch, how hurtful is that for tommy? sure, makes sense as an interpretation when you wrap your right hand around your neck to reach for your left ear. it's not like buck's saying that because well, tommy dumped him the last time they saw each other. you know walked out of his life entirely, ended a relationship that for all it was fine and euphoric till that exact moment. a choice tommy himself made and kept making. but we can't let tommy have accountability for that because he dumped buck because he loved him so much, see. that frees him of the responsibility of this proactive, self-made decision.

and you know, seeing as buck mentions the heartbreak line back to him, it means buck has heard him, he's not unaware that tommy has/had strong feelings for him but tommy? tommy doesn't know as if buck didn't tell him similar things in the same scene. this is not even me being sarcastic about shitty biased interpretations at this point, it's literally me pointing out that tommy refused to hear buck when buck said he can see a future for them, only to come back and tell him that he also doesn't trust him to know how he feels about eddie.

so for all buck knows this is an ex boyfriend who left him, as suddenly offering a "you can settle for me now haha" which is not only incredibly patronizing with knowing-how-buck-feels-better-than-buck-himself but it's also neither an apology for how tommy's walked out the first time around nor a great display of his love or desire for a second chance. so what is buck supposed to feel when he looks at this? breakfast and champagne are nice but don't really make up for your ex repainting your entire relationship with a confession and then refusing to listen when you say no it wasn't like that. again, what about self-incriminating you can settle down for me now that competition is out of the way should be proof for buck that tommy's serious about their second chance. it's incredibly more hurtful to learn that your ex has never taken your feelings for him seriously during your entire relationship than hear "i dont have feelings for you anymore" and at least buck knows that was mean and wants to apologize for it. unlike tommy who's so bought into the chill and cool and fine guy that he can't even address their breakup, what he's done and how he felt, with a little bit of sincerity before going back to the snide and booking it out of there.

was the beginning of this interpretation a little uncharitable to tommy? yeah. because it was me being sarcastic about how people don't extend any grace or nuance to reading buck while filling every crevice of tommy. i get it. blank pages are funner to draw on, thats why people love queerbaiting and fanon ships more than canon rep most of the time, but at this point some people are so caught up in "this one word tommy uses here means that his mom left him when he was a baby so he can't show this particular emotion now" vs "buck didn't say this in the clearest way that'd acknowledge how he's hurt and victimized tommy and frankly that means he doesn't deserve him" that it sounds ridiculous. i dont even disagree with why tommy can't be sure about buck's feelings for him, not at all but, god, would it kill you to realize that tommy ended this relationship and has been running away from taking accountability for that action and his feelings at every turn and even when he tries, it comes out minimizing for both parties' feelings and their relationship. he's not a child, he's a man who's destined himself to this pattern, and i simply think that he needs to break out of it himself. i dont even know what buck could say to convince him otherwise anyway.

[cryingpariah]

The biggest little shit you've ever seen

Also was he just bonking into everything with his eyes covered up for all those years? Did he use sonar like a bat?

He is, in fact, adorable and I will be supporting both his right and his wrongs, feel free to quote me on that 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️!

The reveal that Loki's eye bandages have been a staple of his look since childhood raises dare I say several questions. Here are my current top 3 theories.

Theory #1 - The bandages are purely for aesthetic purposes, Loki put them on himself and there is no deeper meaning behind it [mildly boring let’s not lie]

Theory #2 - the bandages are for training purposes, be it for levelling up his Observation Haki or for just generally getting more in tune with the Underworld [Think Hall of Egress], Loki put them on himself.

Theory #3 - Just another sign of Ancient Giant prejudice. Perhaps he’s got some crazy eyes [Like the Imu ringed ones for example]. The bandages were forced upon baby Loki and he’s never taken them off because deep down he believes what the elder say about him [:(]. If asked Loki would cite one of the first two reasons.

If we go with that last theory (which feels the most likely) Loki could have had these bandages since birth. He might not even really know what he looks like!