#didn’t he say something like. If it makes the gays happy I’m thrilled

[matan4il]

Hello, anon who introduced their boyfriend to Buddie here. It's been a while (life has been crazy) but I wanted to give you a quick update. My boyfriend is all caught up with the show now (he's hooked XD) and let me just say, he is now on Team Buddie and is rooting for them to get together. He was very interested in how they filmed the sniper scene (and how hard Buck freaked out), shocked and all smiles during the will scene, and loved that it was Buck who helped during the PTSD storyline. 1\2

Boyfriend anon continuation: He's absolutely loving how natural Buddie's relationship is and agrees that it would make total sense for the two to enter into a romantic relationship. He loves pointing out all the subtleties with me and hopes they do end up together eventually. Anyway, basically, another one has joined on the Buddie Train. XD 2/2

Hi boyfriend Nonnie! :D OMG, I'm so happy to hear from you! It's just lovely to get to keep in touch like this. I know all about life being crazy, so I just hope there's been a ton of good things in the mix, too! *hugs*

And oh, I LOVE your boyfriend, okay? He’s clearly a good one! Plus, I recently mentioned remembering seeing comments straight men made on an early article about Buddie, on a relatively bigger, more generalized site, and they made me so happy. Lots of these men thought what Buddie had was special, and were rooting for them to get together. It was beautiful to read their comments. Once upon a time, it was clear that the only viewers who wouldn’t be against gay characters would be gay themselves. Then it began to become clear that some straight women were supporting gay characters and love stories, too. It started out small, but soon grew in numbers and in recognition. There would be no ‘queerbaiting’ if show makers didn’t start realizing that there are huge numbers of viewers out there who want and support this content. And those comments from straight men? That was the first time I saw people who were considered the core of the population uninterested in gay stories voicing their support and even enthusiasm for a gay ship to happen publicly. And while the numbers weren’t huge, they were substantial. Especially if we assume that they represent many others who don’t comment online but feel the same. 

But I admit, that article came out around season 3 if I’m not mistaken. I didn’t know whether straight male viewers would still feel the same after 5 seasons, and after more heterosexual relationships for Buddie have been thrown in there. IDK if you two are an opposite sex couple, and even then IDK if your boyfriend identifies as straight, but if he does? That’s some extra awesomeness right there. And I might be wrong, but something about the way you’d written in the past that you wanted to see his reactions made me think this might be the case.

But either way, I am THRILLED on so many levels! I’m happy for you that you have such a great boyfriend, and that you get to share this love for Buddie with him (and that he has such correct views). I’m happy to be hearing from you. And I’m always glad to know there’s one more person out there sinking into our collective madness. Because there’s beauty in this madness. And as many people as possible should get to enjoy it.

Thank you so much for sharing this with me, lovely! I hope you both have a great day and I hope to continue to hear updates from you! *all the love* xoxox

(If you're looking for my ask replies, here is my ask tag! xoxox)

[bethansfandoms]

hello can u write wolfstar as parents? thanks i love your writing:))))

Yes but because you didn’t specify... they’re being Harry’s parents because I’ve silently been praying someone would send me a wolfstar raise Harry prompt :)

“Pads.”

Sirius pretended to ignore Harry. He knew exactly what the boy was going to ask and he decided to keep feeding him scrambled egg in an attempt to silence him.

“Where is Moony?”

“Moony is asleep right now, Harry.”

Harry pouted, “We wake him up?”

“No, Harry. Moony needs to sleep.”

“But I want to show him presents!”

Sirius sighed. The full moon had fallen on the night before Harry’s fifth birthday. Harry usually spent the night of the moon and the following day with Molly Weasley who, despite having seven children of her own, was always happy to take him.

They had originally hoped the Dursley’s would. As Harry’s only living family, it seemed only natural that he would stay with them, especially as they had a boy around Harry’s age.

Harry’s uncle, however, had not been thrilled when two gay wizards on a flying motorbike had arrived at number four privet drive. He had sent them away and they had not tried again since.

Last night, however, they’d kept Harry with them. It didn’t seem fair to leave him elsewhere on his birthday. Remus had spent the full moon without Sirius and he was certainly worse off for it.

Explaining to Harry that Remus was a werewolf was something they’d planned to do, gradually. Harry was at an age where he would not understand the severity of accidentally sharing that information around. For now, it was best left unsaid.

“Moony might come down for lunch with us, yes?”

“I want to see him now!”

“He is poorly, Harry. He needs to sleep.”

“But—”

“How about if you agree to let Moony sleep, we can go out on your broom right now.”

Harry seemed to lighten up at that and nodded. Sirius smiled at the small victory and told him to go and play for a bit whilst he cleared up their breakfast.

He put the kettle on as he cleared the plates with a flick of his wand, Remus always liked a warm mug of tea, especially after a moon.

He walked up the stairs quietly, as for Harry not to hear, and pushed open their bedroom door. It was dark in the room, bright light tended to make Remus’ head go funny.

“How’s the birthday boy?” Remus asked sleepily.

“Missing you,” Sirius replied, handing Remus the mug and placing a gentle kiss on the deep gash above his left eyebrow he had acquired last night. “How’re you feeling?”

“Tired. Achey. I’ll live.”

“Want some peace and quiet?”

Remus was clearly quite torn over the decision. “I might try and drift off again, yeah. Kiss first.”

Sirius smiled and leant down to oblige, kissing him softly and then stroking his hair away from his face. “Need anything else?”

“I wouldn’t say no to a sleeping draught or something? I’ll rest up so I can spend some time with Harry today.”

“I’ll get one from downstairs.” Sirius leant down and kissed him again, smiling as he walked back over to the door.

He yelped slightly as he opened it; Harry was standing on the other side.

“Merlin, Harry. You scared me.”

“Moony,” Harry said simply, pointing to the door. Sirius quickly closed it and knelt down to his height.

“If you’re good you can come up and see him later, okay?”

“No. Now.”

“Harry,” Sirius warned. “He is sleeping.”

“But...” Harry pointed at the door again,“in there.”

Sirius ruffled his hair affectionately and Harry smiled slightly at that. “Listen, little prongs,” Harry giggled at the nickname, “I’m going to go downstairs and get Moony some medicine. Then we can go out and play, okay?”

Harry’s eyes flitted to the door and then back to Sirius’ gaze. “Yes.”

“And you’re not allowed to go in there and wake Moony up, okay? What are you not going to do?”

“Wake Moony up,” Harry repeated, batting his eyelashes innocently.

Sirius hummed suspiciously but left him on the landing as he walked downstairs to get Remus a draught from the cabinet in the kitchen.

It seemed Harry had inherited his father’s obedience for authority as when Sirius got to the top of the stairs, the bedroom door was open.

He sighed and entered the room, flashing an apologetic smile to Remus who, to his credit, was smiling and nodding along to whatever Harry was saying, no hint of tiredness or annoyance on his face.

“Harry, what did I tell you?”

Harry spun around to look at Sirius in the doorway and his eyes went wide. “Sorry.”

“Harry was telling me about some of the presents he opened this morning,” Remus explained. “Lucky boy.” He tickled Harry who burst into fits of giggles.

“What’s that?” Harry asked suddenly, placing a hand on the new cut above Remus’ eyebrow. Remus did a very good job at not wincing in pain.

“Just a scrape,” he explained. “Kiss it better?”

Harry smiled and gave Remus a kiss on the forehead. “Pads. You do it.”

Sirius wasn’t exactly in a position to refuse and so he placed the potion on the bedside table and pressed a kiss to Remus’ head. “Feeling better?” he asked.

Remus bit his lip a little and smiled, “Yes, thank you Harry.”

“Same,” Harry announced, suddenly.

“What?” Remus questioned.

Harry placed the palm of his hand to the lighting bolt scar on his forehead before pressing it against the cut on Remus’. “Same,” he repeated.

Sirius felt like crying and from the look on Remus’ face, he wasn’t the only one. “Yeah, Harry, same. We match now. Pads doesn’t, he isn’t as cool as us.”

Sirius rolled his eyes as Harry laughed at him. Remus gave him an affectionate smile and raised his eyebrows, he seemed to be very good at getting Harry to team up with him.

“I’ll tell you what, Harry,” Remus said. “How about we have cuddles and Pads can read us some Babbitty Rabbit.”

“Goodnight story?” Harry said, confused. “It’s not bedtime.”

“It’s my bedtime,” Remus said.

That seemed to work for Harry as he crawled into bed and snuggled against Remus’ chest. Sirius felt a familiar warmth spread over him as he crawled into bed with them, book in hand.

Remus drank the sleeping draught and then lay down, looking at Sirius expectantly. “Go on then, Pads.”

“Yeah, go on then,” Harry parroted.

Sirius stuck his tongue out and the two of them did it right back.

“A long time ago, in a far-off land, there lived a foolish king,” Sirius began.

The potion seemed to take quick effect on Remus as he fell asleep only a few pages in. Once he had, Harry placed a finger to Sirius’ lips. Sirius grinned before closing the book.

“Can we play with Moony later?” Harry whispered.

Sirius nodded, “Yes, let him sleep, okay?”

Harry kissed Remus’ cheek and then went to get out of bed before pausing, kissing Sirius too, and then walking into the hallway. Sirius tucked the covers tightly around Remus and then followed Harry out.

He paused as he walked past the photo of Lily and James on the bookshelf. He smiled sadly at it and then looked over to Harry. “Your kid,” he muttered, “he’s very sweet. I always said you’d make cute babies, didn’t I, Evans?”

Lily just smiled up at him from the photo, as did James.

“He’s so much like you it’s scary.” He wasn’t really sure which person in the picture he’d been aiming the comment at. He decided it didn’t matter.

[cooloddball]

JIB9 (JIBCON, 2018) ANYALYSIS-PART 1

I never know how to begin these things so let’s just dive in.

Jensen and Misha enter the stage as Alex is leaving. Jensen commends Alex and Misha whistles and Jensen says don’t hurt my ears or something. And so it begin. Misha says he regretted it [whistling] immediately.

 I’m hard of hearing you know why because I whistled. This joke didn’t land Misha. Sorry.

Jensen says “Hey” like he wants to say something to the audience but Misha does this weird thing where he runs his index finger down his nose and touches his chin.

I think this was Misha trying to communicate his disappointment that Jensen didn’t get the joke. He wanted him to get the joke. Misha e tries to find his seat so he could sit but Jensen catches on that Misha needs him so he says, “Hey what? I’m sorry I didn’t hear you.” Aww :)

Misha leans his ear closer to Jensen and says, and Jensen leans even closer and they have this back and forth banter about not hearing what the other is saying.

To mention something personal, I am usually very uncomfortable when people lean into me, I like my personal space unless it’s someone I’m really close to and even then not always will be with them getting up close and personal.. They seem okay with it so good for them I guess. Personal space who?

“I don’t understand your accent” Misha says. I don’t know if this is an inside joke because Jensen says “shut up,” playfully and they sit down.

Jensen applauds Alex and Misha whistles again and Jensen has to look away faux disappointed because they just talked about whistling. Misha!!! Stop being naughty.

Jensen even rubs his ears to show that he can’t hear properly. LOL.

That’s like super loud dude.

 I actually find it really weird when Misha and Jensen call each other dude. It sounds unnatural because Jensen often calls other men-pal, bud, or man and Misha usually uses people’s names or says my friend so and so. So maybe this is what they call each other? I know when I talk to my bf or my friends I call them dude (gn) especially when I’m shocked about something. So, it’s not a biggie. Just noting this because they do this a lot with each other.

Misha does this super cute shoulder shrug with the biggest grin on his face. How can a grown ass man be that adorable. I don’t know how he does it but well he did it and it’s adorable. No wonder Jensen wants to put him in his pocket and take him home.

“I’m compensating.” And he looks at Jensen with this shit eating grin on his face as if challenging him and it’s like Jensen looks like he can’t breathe for a second it was literally three seconds.

 “[compensating] For a lot of things that’s wow.” Jensen says. Misha keeps grinning. Of course Jensen would know what Misha is compensating for wouldn’t he?

 Should we talk about Alex?” Jensen asks looking at Misha.

Loudly “Yeah.”

“No I don’t think so.”

What did you ask how was the pantheon? 

Jesus I love their madness. They play off each other so well.

They say they are working on teaching alex to talk about inappropriate things.  Side note: It’s funny though because Alex looks like their love child. He looks like Misha, and to some extent Jensen, his hair, sense of style and even the way he carries himself is all Jensen. So weird. What if –What if---nvm.

Jensen mentions he remembers his first season of spn. Misha looks at Jensen and says no you don’t [remember] and Jensen agrees that he doesn’t. Yes finish each other’s sentences why don’t you? He says he doesn’t remember that far back and Misha has this far away look as if he is trying to remember something and starts laughing and Jensen has this smirk on his face. IDK what is going on but these are moments I wish I could read minds.

The way Jensen is looking at Misha though.

So Misha mentions how Jared pranked Alex during the tattoo scene of s13x02. The moment Misha mentions Jared, Jensen stops smiling.

Knowing what we know now about the fallout I want to mention something. When Misha talks about Jared and his prank on Alex Jensen doesn’t seem too enthusiastic about that. Hmm and he circles back to talk about Alex then he calls Jared a toddler? But Misha makes it sound like Jensen was referring to Alex by saying easy prey . 

Misha shows the face Alex makes when they are on set together because of the pranks and the jokes.

Jensen adds, “Do you know how many times I’ve seen you do that?”+  Jensen is so excited. I mean anyone who says this is PR then they are crazy. You can’t fake emotions like that no matter how good of an actor you are.

‘The way Jensen calls Misha ‘this one’ It sounds so couply. Like when one half of a couple says, “this one is always a crying mess when we watch the notebook” or something akin to that. Any that’s just how I interpreted it, I could be wrong.

And this is how Misha is looking at Jensen when he says “this one”

That moment when Misha touches the back of Jensen’s neck and Jensen touches his thigh and they think it’s too gay because because Jensen acts like he just touched dirt and Misha brushes off his thigh and smells it. Now that’s acting.

Jensen checks Misha out (he specifically looks at Misha’s arms) and then asks “how’re you doing bud?”

Misha says good and that cringe moment about clothes sharing starts and oh I can’t look…okay I had to look  because cringe. But the way Jensen is looking at Misha is giving me the courage to and also I had to for the sake of this analysis I had to look.

“This morning Jensen was like, ‘hey, here’s that shirt you wanna borrow that shirt to wear to the convention today and I was like ‘no dude I’m not wearing your shirt to the convention to the convention’ and he’s [Jensen] like don’t worry it still has tags on it it’s fine. And I’m like no thanks , I’m not gonna wear your fucking shirt to the convention. And then at lunch I spilled salad dressing all over my shirt like sweet so thanks for the shirt.”

The whole time Misha is telling the story he’s not looking at Jensen he’s looking at the crowd. Jensen on the other hand is checking Misha out while biting his bottom lip. There’s a lot to unpack here.

Jensen:  ‘I knew. Umm..”

Misha:  “You are like Misha didn’t bring his bib today so…”

Jensen:  “He didn’t bring his bib? We are probably having you know some pretty----no I was literally have a shirt that I brought that…cause I try to wear something new for every time there are pictures being taken of me just cause that’s the culture we live in now…”

Interrupting moose enters.

*I will do a comprehensive analysis on the clothes sharing confessions, lies and half truths in another post. Boy (gn) do I have tea.”

I think when Jared is giving Jensen the balloons Jensen asks him if Daniela or someone else sent him to join them but I think he came of his own volition.

Jared is asking Jensen to untie a balloon for him but Jensen doesn’t look too thrilled

Misha must’ve noticed the tension between those two so he asks, “how good a knot did you tie?” 

Jensen’s like, “You know what? I tie a knot that a professional knows how to tie.” Okay kinky, tell us more about knots Jensen. (Sorry for this but knowing the A/B/O or rather the Omegaverse was started because of Jensen and now he’s  talking about tying a knot and…you know what nvm)

Misha pretends that what Jensen is saying is sus so he and Jared have a back and forth wondering what Jensen is talking about as Jensen unties the balloons. Yeah sure Misha like he hasn’t tied …you know what? This is getting uncomfortable even for me. Can we move on?

But Jensen won’t let me move on because he’s like, “seriously that’s how you tie a knot.” Of course you’d know sir

Jared adds, “Or it’s not” can someone shut this man up, please.

Jensen doesn’t like his friend’s joke and he has something to say about it,  “Did he have to join us?” Was this a joke? Was it serious? Who knows but recent events seem to suggest that he might’ve been serious but made it look like a joke.

Jared asks for one balloon and Misha tries to reach for one but Jensen keeps pulling them away so Misha can’t reach. This is so playful and adorable. Misha snags one finally then gives it to Jared. One flies away and he tries to reach for it but he’s not tall enough. 

“Do you want some help?”  Jared asks and laughs then Misha gives him the finger. 

Jensen gets grumpy after Daniela brings Misha a colourless balloon so he hits it with his microphone then he hits his and  sits on it and pops it. Fuck that was hot for some weird reason. I could watch him pop balloons all day.

Misha and Jared’s reaction when Jensen sits on the balloon.

Misha tries Miserably to pop his, Jared can’t look, Jensen is still grumpy but the more Misha struggles the happier Jensen gets and he even manages a smile.

This was hilarious though. Their face journeys.

Jared brings a watermelon and gives it to Misha but Jensen slaps it out of his hands and shows he doesn’t want him to do it from the way he’s waving his hand.

The only thing Jensen wants Misha to wrap his legs around is his waist, or his neck or shoulders or whatever. I don’t know which method of wrestling they prefer, I’m not a professional wrestler I mean I’ve watched WWE a few times but-

Jensen seems happy, I don’t know what Misha says to him before he sits but Jensen seems okay until…

Jared hands Misha the pink balloon holder and says, “You gonna want this for later,” 

Misha doesn’t look too happy about it either but he’s always a good sport. Poor guy, so he plays a long and looks at the holder which interestingly is pink and phallic. I know Jared was joking and yeah the joke wasn’t that funny but Jensen is super pissed because he asks, “Is he?” looking at the balloon holder.

Jesus Jensen wtf? But I honestly understand him, I mean why would Misha need that weird cheap plastic thing when there was the real thing waiting someone in a pair of Levis.

Jensen says, “well… some parts of this”  I can’t quite make out what he says.

Misha tries to make it a light moment by saying it looks like something horrible happened and that gets Jensen to laugh and then Misha bends over to uh..to drop the melon and the phallic object and Jensen’s eyes shoot right down the citrusy-juicy stone fruit goodness. He catches himself looks away and then looks at the crowd while chewing on his bottom lip.

Okay sexual jokes are fun but not every time Jared. I mean c’mon, not everything is a gay sex joke. This is the one thing that sells him out as a straight dude. He makes way too many gay sex jokes it’s not even funny.

They have this weird back and forth about Jared having some notes. Argh. It’s weird. It’s like they are fighting. You see how girls fight and act like like they aren’t fighting but you can sense the seething anger in the undertones of their voices? That’s the vibe I get here. Even Misha is confused because he keeps looking between the two wondering why notes are so important of a discussion that warrants a back and forth. Or maybe it’s just me. IDK.

Misha has to jump in and save the day “He’s [Jared] is just looking through for pictures] Misha explaining to Jensen why Jared has to read the script forty times while Jensen only reads it once.  WTF is going on boys? You were doing so well before and now things seem totally awkward *cough*fallout*cough*

Jensen looks totally done like he wants to be anywhere but here, seriously look at him.

It gets so awkward so much so that Misha has to prompt a fan to ask a question. As I said earlier, no one is such a great actor to fake emotions. Jensen keeps proving my theory. Something was going on with j/2 that day and no matter how hard they tried to mask it, it came out and it wasn’t pretty. Then again, maybe it’s just me and nothing was going on.

A fan asks how they like stories to end and  before he can answer, Misha quickly glances at Jensen then goes ahead and explains how he likes the story to leave him on a cliffhanger.

Misha has barely finished talking before Jensen chimes in with a “I Do NOT!” Look at Jared’s and Misha’s faces. Something was clearly going on and I think it had something to do with the show because Jensen didn’t seem okay since Jared came on stage. He says how he wants a finality to things otherwise jerks. They were clearly talking about the show, Jensen, for a good actor you are acting really weird. It is about the show because he says, “we are just dead”  Something very weird was going on. Maybe at this time they already had had their meeting with TPTB in LA and he was told to take it or leave it and Jared and Kripke didn’t even hear him out. My poor baby, Do all the spin offs King and you should star in all of them like you deserve.

He even says that spn dying is not a finality. He looks super pissed. What did these people (Jared and tptb) do to him? They broke him. He was doing so well.

Luckily a fan asks them if they can dance so Jensen goes to the wheel and Misha gets up. I think he knows Jensen is angry and he has to try to make his man happy the best way he can. Jared is suffering from second hand embarrassment as am I. Jared can’t look, same Jared this is so cringe. But Jensen can’t help himself, as he is coming back from spinning the wheel he checks out Misha’s citrusy-juicy goodness again 🍑

Misha please stop. I love you but this is embarrassing. Okay so let me look at Jensen instead. He looks like those gentlemen waiting for the debutantes at a debutante ball because of the way he’s standing looking at Misha dance. Subtle sir. Very subtle. I mean if my friend was dancing like that I’d be laughing at them not watching longingly. Just saying, but that’s just me.

The way Misha looks at Jensen and starts rolling his hips. Sirs, can you not do your mating dance in public? There are children in the audience. 

Even the way Jensen cues in the music so he can dance looks like he’s in the Victorian era asking the music master to play the song he asked to be cued in so he could dance with his sweetheart or something. Am I going crazy? I’m going crazy.

The whole dancing scene was just cringe.

Mish explaining what Castiel does when the boys go to sleep 

Hold on, when Jensen asks what Castiel does when the Sam and Dean are asleep in their respective bedrooms, he made sure to emphasize respective bedrooms and we all know the reason why. Stay speaking facts king.

Anyway, when he asks Misha to demonstrate for us what Cas does, did he expect that Cas stands there peeping into Dean’s room and wanks or what did he expect? Honestly I’m just curious, what did he want Misha to demonstrate exactly.

Then he gets up to demonstrate it himself . 

When Misha says that the episode will be called ‘I’ll just wait here ten” Jensen unicorn laughs and when he realizes he was laughing to hard at Misha’s joke he says, ”I don’t get it.” Yeah sure Jensen it was clear from how hard you laughing to the point where we could see your tonsils that you didn’t get it. Good one. Misha maintains a serious face and even shakes his head.

A fan asks Misha what Castiel would have in his room. Misha says just a bunch of catnip. I don’t know what is so funny again that it warrants Jensen to hide his face because he’s trying not to laugh too hard. Does the word catnip or Cas being a cat mean something to you? Is it because Misha is cute like a kitten? Do love to rub his tum and hear him purr? Does he rub his nose along your beard like a cat would? What is so funny?

Then Jensen adds, “and kitty litter.” So adorable. I want in on the inside joke.

Misha says that he would have a poster of a cat hanging from a tree that says, “Hey it’s Monday” and Jensen laughs so hard. Then Jensen makes sure to add, “he has that poster in his trailer.” How do you know?

Why are these two dorks so happy about the mention of AU Cas? 

Then the way Jensen is excited about asking Misha for a demonstration of AU Cas 

 WTF am I watching? Help. But the eye fuck and the way the laugh.

Look how hard Jensen is laughing when Misha says what went through his head is that “they met at a club.” Pray for Jensen. He needs help. Serious help because no one is ever that funny all the time Jensen.

You can see how Jensen’s mood changed after Jared said that is the best acting he has ever seen Misha do. Jared seriously read the room. That part of the video has been discussed before so I won’t get into that.

The way Jensen’s eyes widen when Jared says Misha really wants to answer the who is your rock question. It is subtle but it happens. He also raises his eyebrows  as if to say “really? leave my husband alone.”

Okay did Jared expect Misha to say Jensen was his rock or??

Jensen is acting weird through Misha’s answer. He’s mostly stoic, like he’s holding his breath? Can I also mention how handsome Misha looks? But I like Misha’s answer and it’s so beautiful that he married his best friend. Everyone who wants to get married should marry their best friend. What do I know though? Marriage is a foreign concept to me.

Jensen asks how many mothers there are in the audience.

Jared carries on with “how many of us have mothers?

Misha: That’s quite an impressive turn out. So many people didn’t raise their hands.

“They are like no I was genetically engineered in a lab.” Okay hear me out. Jensen knows what you know who believe that  his kids and Jared’s kids were made in a lab because they couldn’t stand to copulate with their wives because of how much they hate them because Jared is his on true love. If you didn’t know this I’m sorry to divulge this disgusting piece of information to you but you can’t unsee it now so you are welcome. I swear I think this was a jab at them, no one can convince me otherwise.

Even Jared and Misha’s reaction to that is pretty telling. Then Jensen adds “And some of you probably were” I think he means those soulless fans who send their wives and kids threats and also hate on Misha every chance they get. Go off king.

He talks about how his wife is also his rock aww Jensen

Remember how Jensen was being weird during Misha’s answer? Misha is being weird as well, mostly stoic and looking at a fixed spot on the ground. I want to know what was so interesting.

Oh that micro expression from Jared, his right eye widens the moment Jensen says “I have some amazing pebbles in my life.” Did he think Jensen was going to out himself? He was like oh shit oh sit it’s happening.

The glee on Misha’s face when when Jensen calls him a pebble aww Jensen.

I know what I’m about to say is controversial but I think that by pebbles Jensen meant Misha. It doesn’t make sense that he was comparing his wife and his friends. The only person he would relate his wife to is his husband. I know this sounds crazy and people will definitely not be happy about this but that’s my opinion.I I know he loves Jared and he is his bro for life  so if he was referring to them both wouldn’t he have pointed to them both?

Jared talks about how sometimes he doesn’t want to burden the people he really loves with what’s on his mind all the time and Jensen points to himself in a very aggressive way. Jesus Jensen way to be subtle. Fuck. Also Jensen nods vigorously when Jared says look for your pebbles because sometimes pebbles are what you need to get back to your rock.

It’s time to sing a hbd song and when Misha asks Jared “did you volunteer for this?” That’s when Jensen places his hand on Misha’s knee and says “I got it” He’s like, babe seriously? You are gonna ask Jared to sing when you know I got the voice for it? Seriously? I’m right here babe. I sing to you every night and you gonna do me like this? I got this and you are mine.

He caresses that leg and gets very comfortable on it, draping his arm from the elbow down on it. Possessive much? It’s clearly not the first time he has parched on that leg. The hand was on that leg for 1 minute and 15 seconds. Yes, I counted.

The intimate way in which Jensen and Misha they are seated is so awkward that Jared scoots away from them.

 Damn, son. Jensen’s vocals are out of this world. So good.

Jesus Jared “Deeper, deeper feel it” Is that what they were screaming through the hotel walls last night? Tell us more.

Misha is so uncomfortable and Jensen is so done.

So overall this part was basically cockles being cockles, Jensen being possessive of Misha, Jared being Jared, Jensen being done, the girls are fighting and Misha is the referee. 

That’s the end of part 1.

Part 2

[useyernamesteven]

(Needed some goofy fluff to distract myself from the angst im writing so buckle up, its long. Based on that one post I cannot find so if anyone can help a homie out, much appreciated)

Raya/Namaari Accidental Marriage Proposal

Its not a far stretch to assume that the different tribes have different practices and rituals. And given the 500 year gap in communication its also easy enough to assume that the tribes don't know about each others differing customs.

For example: marriage proposals. In Tail its as cut-and-dry as asking. Talon people propose with rings and jade coin. When you propose in Spine you chop down a tree to show your commitment and strength.

The Fang propose with blades. Fang people love their knives, daggers, spears, and other pointy weapons, so if you want to ask someone to marry you, you do it with a blade.

I like to imagine it'd be because offering a blade to someone- who isn't family -is the equivalent of trusting your life to that person. I like to think the Fang value not only a person's strength and honour, but their ability to care and protect their people. So giving a blade to your chosen love is like saying, "I'm giving you this weapon because I trust you with my heart, literally and metaphorically".

But again, 500 year old divide means others have no clue what giving a knife to someone from Fang entails...

So maybe its been a few months or so after the Druun have been vanquished. Raya is still re-learning how to be a 'princess' while playing liaison between the tribes, with Sisu as her partner in crime. She likes it because she still gets to travel and she gets to see her new friends from the other tribes: Boun's business is booming, Noi has started talking, and Tong has become the new Chief of Spine.

Then there's Namaari.

Six years of playing cat-and-mouse together (or rather angry kitten and homeless puppy) can be hard to overcome. At first it was a struggle. And incredibly awkward. Namaari, too guilt ridden over what she'd done, and Raya, still angry and socially stunted, could barely hold a conversation together.

Eventually Raya, fed up with the weird awkward talk, dragged Namaari to Fang's training grounds and challenged her to a sparring match. And only when it was over, the both of them exhausted and laying on the ground, did they start talking, actually talking. About what happened with the gem, with Sisu, what they can't let go of, not yet, but what they hope they can move past one day.

It made things after easier because it was familiar ground for them, but it also opened up new paths too. Now in the months since they saved the world and having spent that time working together, Raya would like to consider Namaari a close friend.

Which is probably why she's so surprised when Namaari off-handedly mentions her birthday is next week. Namaari, who's less than thrilled about her mother's plans for a big celebration, doesn't even notice how much Raya's caught off guard. Namaari doesn't really care for her birthday, much less when her mother makes a big deal about it, but she still brushes her hair behind her ear when she asks Raya if she's going to attend.

Raya recovers, nudging Namaari saying that she's obviously going, and boasting about the amazing gift she's going to bring.

Which then leads to her dragging Sisu to Talon in search of the perfect gift (Sisu being the only 'person' she knows who can help being that she's a master gift giver... Sisu's words, not Raya's, but still). They run around Talon for ages, with Sisu practically buying everything in sight (with the Heart Palace Credit of course) but Raya can't find a single thing she thinks Namaari would actually like.

And then she spots a Fang vendor selling blades.

The woman is nice and she asks Raya if she's looking for something in particular. Raya says she wants to get a dagger for 'someone special' from Fang (not wanting to rack up the price if the woman knew who it was for, but also completely unaware to what she's just implied).

The vendor seems a little surprised but she easily walks Raya through picking out the perfect dagger for her 'someone special'. Raya ends up buying a pretty, yet functional dagger with a dragon engraved in the blade and an ornate box to keep it in. As Raya's leaving the woman gives her a pat on the shoulder and says, "All the best for the both of you and I'm sure she'll say yes," which Raya can't really make sense of so she shrugs and leaves to go find Sisu and her mountain of trinkets.

So now its the party, and when Namaari said Virana was making a big deal about it, she really meant it. People from all the tribes are attending and Sisu's brought her brothers and sisters and there's music and food and fireworks...

And Namaari stands beside her mother in a beautiful dress that makes Raya's heart thud erratically (it's totally platonic). Her and her Ba walk up to them and start making small talk before her Ba and Virana break off to chat with other dignitaries, leaving Raya and Namaari together.

Raya likes how Namaari relaxes around her when its just them, despite the room full of people. They talk and banter and tease and laugh, but more than anything Raya just likes being with Namaari. And when Namaari mentions how much she hates formal wear, how dresses don't suit her, Raya makes it a game to see how many times she can mention how beautiful Namaari looks while they're talking, just because it makes Namaari flush and do the hair thing she does when she's shy. No other heart-related reason.

Its not until much later when Raya suddenly remembers the gift she brought and she runs off to fetch it. When she returns she hands Namaari the sleek box with a smile and a sheepish "Happy Birthday dep'la".

And Namaari's blushing and smiling as she takes the box, telling Raya she didn't have to as she opens the box-

And immediately slams it shut. Her face turns bright red and she whorls on Raya with wide eyes and a panicked, hissed "whatareyoudoing?!" And poor Raya's totally thrown, so sure she'd picked out the perfect gift. "You don't like it?" But Namaari shoves the box back into her hands, with another frenzied whisper "thatsnotit!"

Well now Raya's a little miffed because "You didn't even look at it" and before Namaari can stop her she's pulling the dagger from the box and offering it back to Namaari.

Meanwhile the room goes incredibly quiet as everyone from Fang suddenly notices what's happening between the princesses. Virana nearly spits out her drink. Everyone else carries on like normal, but a few people watch their new Fang friends with curious looks, completely out of the loop.

So now Raya's essentially down on one knee without realizing it, Namaari's about to have a heart attack, everyone from Fang is on the edge of their seat, and the dragons are having a rousing drinking contest with people from Spine.

So the party is going great.

Raya (oblivious to the world save for Namaari) is giving Namaari her strongest puppy dog eyes because she'd spent so long looking for the perfect gift dep'la, and "You're pretty special Namaari, special to me, and you deserve it."

Namaari, as red faced as she is, softens at Raya's admission, smiling a little to herself before she takes the dagger from Raya with a soft "it's lovely dep'la".

And suddenly the room's loud again as people from Fang start clapping and whistling. Everyone else is lost but soon they join in as well, despite having no clue as to what they're cheering for. Namaari's back to being flustered and she grabs Raya's hand and hauls her toward Virana and Benja. Raya, finally taking in the room around them, is confused as to why people are congratulating her and Namaari.

Virana has recovered by the time the two approach and if no one knew better it might've also appeared she was trying hard not to smile. Namaari hisses something to her mother Raya doesn't hear, and she shoots her Ba a questioning look. Benja looks a little pensive but he's got a quirk in his lips that Raya knows means mischief.

Virana gently pats her daughter's shoulder before turning to address the room, excusing the four of them. They turn to leave but not before Virana calls out to the crowd, "And it goes without saying you're all invited to the wedding as well," and then ushers her horrified daughter, her baffled betrothed, and Benja out the door.

Instantly Namaari's in hysterics, asking her mother why she'd say that when Raya obviously didn't know what she was doing. Virana, quite obviously playing ignorance, asks why Namaari accepted the blade if she knew what she was doing. And poor Namaari can only gape, red faced and no come back.

Raya has finally caught on to what she's done and yeah, okay now it all makes sense. The vendor, Namaari's (gay) panic, the congratulations... she just proposed to Namaari. She just proposed to Namaari. In front of most of Kumandra. Oh toi!

Benja, still smirking to himself, ruffles Raya's hair before turning to Namaari and Virana and saying, "To be fair... Namaari did propose first."

Marriage proposals in Heart are an exchange of necklaces. So when Namaari had given Raya the Sisu pendant back when they were kids, they'd essentially gotten engaged and since Raya kept it, they've technically been engaged for the past six years.

(Too) Long story short, Raya and Namaari get engaged, get married, fall in love, and live sapphically ever after.

End.

(Okay, I'm done. Back to angst.)

[kakashiswilloffire]

Congratulations on a 100! Can I request a female reader and a scenario where Kakashi discovers in a very shocking way that his s/o is pregnant? Please don't mind not writing if it bothers you. Stay hydrated and have a nice day regardless!🌸

thank you for the request!! hope you enjoy!!

***

A Kunoichi's Suprise

ao3

words: 1.9k

kakashi x fem!reader, fluff, reader is pregnant

***

“I do hate to do this to you, but you’re the best choice. There’s not an Inuzuka available who has the security clearance necessary, which makes you the only ninken-user I can assign this to.”

Kakashi nodded and shrugged, brushing off the unspoken apology. “I understand, it’s no issue.”

Tsunade pursed her lips into a thin line, nodding solemnly. “If it wasn’t so time-sensitive, I’d put someone else on it, I swear.” She tucked a loose strand of her silvery blond hair behind her ear and shuffled the papers on her desk, bringing a personnel file to the top. “And to accompany you… Again, I’m really sorry, but she’s the only one who makes sense. She was in the area most recently out of all available jonin and her weapons expertise makes her the best candidate to accompany you.”

His eyebrows dipped together in mild confusion. He would have requested this partner if she hadn’t been assigned—he agreed fully that they would make the best team for this recovery mission. Shaking it off, he nodded again. “Sounds great, Lady Fifth. Anything else?”

Tsunade let out a breath she had been half holding and leaned back in her chair. Tonton gave a relieved squeak and Shizune pulled her closer to her chest. The Hokage dragged her hands across her eyes, then leaned forward on her elbows.

“Glad you’re taking this so well. I thought you’d at least argue about your fiancé going with you, if not objecting to being sent on a mission right now at all.”

Kakashi jerked his head backwards and to the side, scanning over the Sannin with his single vibrant, gray eye. “I’m sorry if I gave you the impression I like to argue with superiors, Tsunade-sama. That’s really more Naruto’s thing.” She snorted, and he took it as a good sign. “When would you like us to head out? Thirty minutes?”

Immediately, Tsunade shot him down. “She needs a medic to look her over before she can go into the field. I’m happy to do it myself. Her training with her team ends at noon, right?” She glanced at the clock, then gestured to Shizune. “Send Kotetsu or Izumo to pull her, we can’t wait that long.” With a quick nod, she ducked out of the room. “Meanwhile, you can go pack bags for you both. Be sure to grab her med pack, I’ll probably need to give her a bonus prescription or two for the journey.”

At this point, Kakahi’s confusion could no longer be dismissed. Why would his fiancé need extra medication for a mission? He had just seen you when you left to meet your team of genin, and you hadn’t mentioned anything. Maybe the stomach bug you had had a few weeks ago had been worse than you let on?

“Sorry, prescriptions? Are we facing potential poisoning?” He tried, looking for an explanation.

Tsunade shook her head firmly. “Anything is possible, but I’m not concerned about it.” She ran her hand backward through her hair, shaking it gently toward the ends and letting it fall out of the way. “More concerned with making sure she’s getting the correct nutrients. I’ve been working on the nutritional value of shinobi rations, but it’s hard to find something that’s shelf stable, lightweight, and compact without just being food pills.”

Kakashi agreed, a debate he had heard on nearly every long term mission. “So you’ll give us both supplements, fair. Should we do my physical now while we wait on my fiancé to arrive?” He relished the words in his mouth, the phrase “my fiancé” almost a dream to him, even still.

She gave a bemused chuckle, glancing the scarecrow of a man up and down. “Why, you have some kind of boo-boo you need me to kiss?” Tsunade returned to the paperwork on her desk, shuffling it again and pulling the shinobi copy of the mission details file out, holding it out to him. “I trust you to get whatever nutrients you need after all these years of life, Bakashi,” she teased.

He didn’t move to take the file. “What’s going on?” he demanded, as respectfully as absolutely necessary. “What’s going on that she needs a medical check and extra medication to travel on a mission? Why did you think I would object to being paired with her? It’s not our first mission together, not even since we got engaged. What am I forgetting?”

Tsunade didn’t react to his interrogation, continuing to organize paperwork and leaning down to pull open a drawer in her desk, sliding his and your personnel files inside. “The fetus, maybe?” She offered, waving a hand like it was obvious.

The what?

For a moment, Tsunade could almost hear the cogs grinding in the shinobi’s head. You passing him every drink that had been pushed on you in the last few weeks, the stomach bug that he had never caught, and the uptick in morning meetings you had.

Then the cogs were brought to a halt, and the whole world froze. The blood running through his body was ice cold, and he felt his fingertips and forehead tingling. Were you really pregnant?

Was he, Kami forbid, going to be a father?

Tsunade swore, knowing she shouldn’t have said anything violating medical confidentiality, but with the pregnancy already being in the second trimester, she had no idea that you hadn’t told Kakashi yet. “Listen, Kakashi… just sit down, okay?” She looked around, swearing again at the reminder that this damn office had no chairs outside of the one she occupied.

She jumped up, crossing over to Kakashi and pushing him forward into the chair behind the desk. “Breathe, Kakashi, come on.” She shook him gently, then lightly slapped his cheek. “Come on, soldier. You’re Kakashi of the Sharingan, master of a thousand jutsu, pull it together.”

He flatly refused.

The door to the Hokage’s office opened, Shizune and Tonton leading you in. You took a moment to take in the scene of your fiancé hyperventilating behind the desk, the Hokage herself swearing and trying to get him to make eye contact and pull air into his lungs. Then he saw you, and he paused, fear in his eyes.

“Is it true—I mean, are you—love, are you pregnant?” He choked out.

Your hand flew to your mouth as if to put the secret back inside. You knew you’d have to tell him eventually, but you had wanted the moment to be right and he had been so busy with his missions lately. He didn’t know it yet, but you had rented a room at a nearby onsen for next weekend, making sure to get a room with a private bath and windows high enough that no onlookers could see inside so that he could comfortably remove his mask. That would’ve been the way you preferred he find out, when rather than dessert, you slid the sonogram across the table after dinner. Instead, you nodded.

“Yes, my love,” you whispered. “I’m pregnant.” Instinctively, your hand rested over the part of your stomach that had begun showing this last week.

He seemed to melt into chair. “Kami… we’re going to be parents?”

You nodded, a small laugh breaking from your chest. “Yes, Kakashi, that’s the plan.”

Slowly, he gathered himself, standing up and delicately walking around the desk to the doorway where you remained. “I… You want this?” He sniffed hard, blinking twice and taking your hands. “You want to raise a child with me? This child?”

You tilted your head to the side, feeling hot tears sting your eyes. You knew he had issues with his self worth, and that would be something you would focus on for the next few months so he’d be ready for your child.

“Of course, ‘Kashi. There’s no one I trust more, no one I think would make a better father. I can’t imagine doing this with anyone else, and I’m thrilled that I get to do it with you.”

His wiry frame jolted as though he’d been shocked, and the threw himself into your arms, allowing his fears and shock to leave him through tears. Tsunade and Shizune averted their eyes, doing what they could to preserve your privacy. Tonton oinked in solidarity. After a couple of moments, he stood again, wiping dry the parts of his face not covered by salty, wet fabric. He then hooked a finger into the mask at the side of his nose, yanked it down, and brought you into a deep kiss, warm hands wrapping around you and pulling you close.

After the surprise, you let yourself dissolve into him, allowing yourself to be swept into his emotional display. He pulled his face back after a few beats and beamed, smiling as widely as you could remember seeing him grin. Then his mouth was back on yours, this time for just a second, then a firm kiss to your forehead before he secured the mask again. Turning to face the Hokage, he wrapped his arm around your back and held you close.

“Tsunade-sama, all due respect, can Pakkun handle this? I’ll send him with anyone you’d like. Naruto, even, I don’t think he’s doing anything tonight. I can send the whole pack. I can brief Gai, or Tenzo, anyone? And if you need a weapons expert, I’m sure Tenten is more than qualified.” You giggled, watching your fiancé ramble to the leader of the village. “It’s just, I’m going to be a father, and she’s pregnant with our child, and I’ve gotta say, I don’t think we’re going on any missions for the next, say, 18 years? Well, maybe some D ranks. We’ll see.”

As Tsunade opened her mouth, he cut her off with a pointed, “How’s the progress on the Konoha Orphanage coming along? They prepared for one more? Cause I’m not letting anything happen to either of us, for this child’s sake.”

Tsunade glared, but was startled out of the shouting match she was gearing up for by Shizune chuckling. Betrayed, she turned to her companion.

“I mean, this is the reaction you anticipated him having, Lady Fifth,” she giggled.

She slammed a fist on the desk, although with an intense amount of restraint given that the surface was not even dented. Finally, she looked up with a glint in her eye.

“I think Hana Inuzuka gets back this evening. I can give her twelve hours to rest and then she and Tenten, along with Gai, can probably handle it. This time.”

Kakashi was already on his way out the door, pulling you behind him in a firmly clasped hand, before she had finished. He called out a thanks over your shoulder as you left. Together, you giggled as you entered the streets of Konoha.

Your fiancé spun in circles, laughing freely and spreading his arms out. “We’re starting a family!” he shouted to the sky. You knew you would both continue to take missions with this child, and that was a conversation for another time. For now, though, you were content to spend eternity watching the love of your life giddily relish in this moment.

[artificialqueens]

🙋‍♀️🖤🤍💛🌸 Love Profusion, 1/2 (Adorney) - Veronica

A/N: So, I began writing this fic to fill the ”protest” prompt, but because it’s me, it got longer and longer and now it’s two parts and the protest is in the second part. It’s coming, though!!

The other challenge I gave myself was to use as many of the pride prompts as I could. This one has joy, parade, party, first kiss, and lust. Also I’m back to my beta whore roots, so I have to thank @m8existing @artificialcandycane @winterboxx and @petitmonde

Summary: Courtney loves pride. Here’s why.

***

For as far back as Courtney could remember, pride was one huge party. Even when she was a kid, tagging along with her brother to whatever family-friendly events existed at both Sydney Gay and Lesbian Mardi Gras and Brisbane pride (and, a little older, when he would sneak her into the clubs to watch his drag shows), it was a day of celebration and fun and rainbows. 

People, especially her more radical friends, liked to talk shit in recent years about pride becoming too “corporate,” but there was something secretly enchanting to her about walking into Target and seeing huge rainbow flag displays. She didn’t like to say it out loud, because she knew she’d lose cool points, but it was true. The fact that business saw them as a group worthy of financial exploitation, just like every other demographic? It felt good. And a big change from how she remembered her childhood, when kids would snicker and spit out the word “gay” as an all-emcompassing insult—and just because it usually had nothing to do with being gay, not really, it still stung. When her grandmother would ask her brother if his boyfriend was his “special friend” and the woman her aunt had been living with for 25 years was referred to by everyone in the family as her “roommate.” Whatever switch had occurred in society to make “gay” go from something secret to a successful marketing strategy—-she may have had issues with capitalism, but that switch made her feel great. 

So Courtney loved pride and everything about it: the dancing, the music, the general air of joy and camaraderie and freedom. She had her first kiss with a girl at one of those first Mardi Gras celebrations: she was 17, marching in the parade with a group of people from Vanity’s club. Covered in glitter from head to toe, a little dizzy and tired from the blazing sun, sparkly rainbow tinsel woven into her hair, sweating off the makeup that Vanity had so carefully applied that morning. It was near the end when she’d spotted April: a girl in cutoffs and a cute asymmetrical haircut, who she was certain she recognized. After a few seconds, she realized why: April had gone to her high school, and had graduated a few years back. She’d been incredibly popular—Wing Attack of their senior netball team, and house captain. Despite Courtney being in that same house, she knew there was no chance that April would remember her. If she did, it couldn’t have been favorable—an awkward pre-orthodontic kid in year 9. Regardless, she’d taken a deep breath and approached, happy to step into some shade for even a few seconds even if it ended awkwardly. 

“Hi, you probably don’t remember me, but-” 

“Courtney, right?” 

“Yes!” Courtney exclaimed, unable to hide the utter thrill of being recognized by a girl so cool, so badass, so…well, sexy. April gave her a wry grin and then reached into a cooler, pulling out a peach iced tea and offering it to Courtney. 

“Here, you could probably use this,” she said, and Courtney reached forward gratefully to take the icy-cold bottle. 

“Thank you so much!” 

“Anytime, Courtney,” April told her with a wink, and then Courtney was overcome by an urge to kiss her. 

If it had been any other time, any other place, she’d probably have fought it. But this was Mardi Gras, and so…what the hell, right? She stepped forward, taking April’s face in her hands, hesitating for just half a second so that April had time to pull away. But instead, she grinned even more, tilting her head and letting Courtney plant a soft, quick kiss against her mouth. 

It felt like her heart might burst from the sheer joy and excitement of it all, but Courtney managed to contain her glee enough to rejoin Vanity, who hadn’t moved ahead terribly far at all. 

Another year at Brisbane pride, when she’d grown even bolder, she’d spent the whole night making out with a stranger on the dance floor of The Beat in the wee hours of the morning. She never did catch the girl’s name, but would think of her occasionally on particularly wistful nights, and send out loving energy for her into the universe. 

She’d even met her girlfriend at pride, a few years after she moved to LA. Somehow, she’d gotten separated from Bianca and Willam, but instead of stressing, she’d begun wandering around the festival, stopping at any booth that looked interesting…sampling food, taking pamphlets, signing petitions, just absorbing the love and good vibes and community spirit as best she could. 

Adore was sitting at a fairly plain-looking table, with a banner that read “Mermaid Trans Femme Youth Support Network.” Her hair was dyed pink and aqua, and she had the most mesmerizing eyes that Courtney had ever seen, ocean-blue, framed by stunning winged eyeliner and colorful shadows applied with a masterful hand. And the most kissably full lips, the matte lipstick that Courtney could never pull off an enticing cherry red.

When Courtney realized, from the amused expression on Adore’s face, that she’d been staring slack-jawed at her for way too long, her cheeks immediately reddened. 

“Sorry, I’m sorry, I’m a bit pissed and I think I just…uh…” 

“It’s cool. I’m half in the bag myself,” Adore giggled, holding up a flask emblazoned with the trans flag. “So…do you want a flier?” 

“Oh, um…I’m not trans,” Courtney said, then immediately winced, worried that she’d put her foot in her mouth. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that, I mean-”

“I’ll try not to hold it against you,” she joked. “But, no, I was just thinking…’cause my number is on the bottom.” 

“Oh,” Courtney blinked a few times. Oh. 

The grin that spread across her face must have been unmistakable, because Adore smiled back, adding, “Or, in about 20 minutes, my shift here’s ending. Maybe you wanna hang for awhile?” 

“Okay!” Courtney exclaimed, not bothering to hide her eagerness at all. At the time, she would blame it on the alcohol, but looking back, it was probably just Adore. 

Adore, who would quickly prove to be just as charming and funny as she was beautiful. They spent the afternoon wandering around, talking about anything and everything under the sun. They realized that they were both singers, both recording under different indie labels, and although their styles were extremely different, they had a lot of overlap in the music they loved. They’d almost crossed paths before, too, a couple of times, since they had a few friends in common: maybe had been at the same party or club together. 

When Courtney realized that she’d heard some of Adore’s music, and pulled out her phone to prove that she had in fact favorited one of her songs a few months ago, she noticed the flood of messages from Bianca and Willam. 

“Shit!”

“Everything okay?” 

“Yeah, just…my friends are raging because I haven’t answered their texts,” she said. 

“Blame me,” Adore said, with a flutter of lashes, the shimmery makeup around her eyes catching the evening light in a way that felt literally magical. 

“I plan to,” Courtney laughed, scrolling to the bottom, reading only the last two messages before shooting off her own. 

BIANCA: BITCH YOU BETTER BE FUCKING DEAD THAT IS THE ONLY ACCEPTABLE EXCUSE FOR THIS

WILLAM: Ur so rude. We goin to head to Ds without u

COURTNEY: I’m sorry! I met this girl and

WILLAM: lol

BIANCA: SLUT

COURTNEY: She’s just so amazing! I’m gonna come find you, where are you?

WILLAM: Palihouse but we’re leaving soon. Be outside the lobby ASAP

Courtney looked up at Adore and asked, “Wanna come to a house party in the hills? We have to book it though.”

“Hell yeah!” Adore said, “Lead the way!”

Courtney took Adore’s hand and the two of them hurried down Santa Monica, dodging people, at one point nearly body-slamming some strung-out gogo boys. Turned out, Bianca and Willam took longer to make their way out of the Palihouse than they’d intended, so they had plenty of time to collapse on the curb outside and catch their breath. 

By then, Courtney was pretty much head over heels, falling harder every time Adore opened her mouth to speak. They pretty much ignored everyone else at the party (which Bianca would take issue with the next day but ultimately understand), so while most of the guests congregated around the pool and in the hot tub, they instead found a relatively quiet balcony off her home gym, sitting with a couple of beers, sharing a joint (well, Courtney took a few puffs, anyway), the conversation flowing well into the night. 

It wasn’t until much later when Courtney started to stress internally—was Adore even into her? They'd spent most of the day together. They’d talking about everything, including sex and the most intimate details what they liked in bed—and maybe Courtney was going through an exceptionally slutty phase, but usually by this point in a romantic interaction, she’d be sound asleep after multiple orgasms. Were they actually gonna do anything, or just talk about it? 

As usual, her lack of poker face must have given everything away, because the next thing she knew, Adore put a warm hand on her arm and asked, “Are you okay?” 

“Yeah!” Courtney insisted. “Sorry. I’m just, um…” 

“Yeah?” Adore drew closer, her head tilted, the glimmering rhinestones on her face dull compared to her eyes in the moonlight. 

“I…I really…like you…” she breathed. God, she sounded like an absolute wanker. 

“I like you too,” Adore said, one corner of her mouth turned up in a smile, her hand still against Courtney’s skin, fingers moving gently, giving her a rush of goosebumps. 

“I kind of…want to mess up your lipstick,” Courtney said, trying to salvage some dignity, if that was even possible at this point. “If that’s chill.” 

“It’s totally chill,” Adore said, her long lashes fluttering. “I was kind of hoping for that all day.” 

“Oh.” Courtney bit her lip, suddenly shy. “Well, then…okay…here goes…” 

“Are you gonna narrate the whole time?” Adore teased, and Courtney tried to give her a cross look, but the giddiness she felt at being so close was taking over, not letting any negative emotions through. Her Look ended up just being the same dumb grin she’d had all day, but with her eyes narrowed ever so slightly. Adore giggled, eyes still locked on hers, cherry lips parting slightly as Coutney closed the distance between them. 

She waited until the very last second to close her eyes, wanting to revel in her beautiful face for as long as possible. Her lips were exactly as velvety-soft and plush as they looked, and for a second Courtney thought she might literally swoon. 

What had begun soft and a bit tentative soon turned heated, tongues tangling together, both of them growing breathless. Adore’s fingers slid around Courtney’s waist, sending tingles all up and down her spine. When they finally parted, Courtney was panting, experiencing a high better than any drug. If Courtney wasn’t in love before that kiss, she was a goner now. 

By the look of the lipstick smeared over Adore’s face, she could bet that half of it was now on hers, and instead of being self-conscious about it, she felt a strange sense of pride. 

“Wow…” Adore sighed. 

“Yeah.” Courtney rested a forehead against hers, chest heaving. “You are so beautiful.” 

“Me? Have you looked in a mirror?” Adore asked, eyes shining. 

“Yeah, you,” Courtney repeated. “You’re like…a goddess.” 

“I…” Adore seemed all out of witty retorts, simply looking down as her cheeks darkened. 

“I’m serious.” Courtney tilted her chin up, placed another soft kiss against the corner of her mouth before adding, “Dead serious.” 

Adore leaned back in the lounge chair with a coy smirk, an impish look in her eyes. She still had one hand on Courtney’s waist, index finger hooking into her belt loop and pulling her closer. Courtney climbed on top of her, grinning like a loon, as she straddled her on her hands and knees. 

For a moment, as they gazed into each other’s eyes, it was like time stopped. The cute smile on Adore’s face faded, and she swallowed hard, then bit her lip. 

“Are you okay?” Courtney whispered. She lifted one hand to stroke Adore’s smooth round cheek. 

“Yeah. Just kind of…hoping I can live up to that last kiss.” 

“I guess we can try our best, right?” Courtney asked. 

Adore nodded, fingers digging a little deeper into Courtney’s waist. 

‘Live up to’ was an understatement—their second kiss was incredible. The way Adore held her, the way she whimpered softly when Courtney used her teeth to tug ever so gently on her bottom lip. The way her hips arched up, breathing growing ragged as her body molded against Courtney’s. Even the air, heady with flowers and the sounds of the party below, music drifting up to them in the breeze, made things more magical.  

Courtney was a little drunk and stoned, to be sure, but mostly she was high on Adore. Her taste, her scent, the softness of her skin, the rhythm of her hips—everything about her was utterly intoxicating. She stifled a broken moan as Adore’s hands slid up under her skirt, fingers kneading into her ass. 

She lost her wits rapidly, completely forgetting where she was as they panted into each others’ open mouths. When one of her hands moved across Adore’s breast, she made a sound—a desperate, broken moan that Courtney felt deep in her core, making her entire body tingle and ache. She circled the stiff nipple with her thumb, and Adore threw back her head, making that glorious sound again. Fuck.

“You like that, baby?” Courtney whispered, and Adore leveled a glassy-eyed gaze at her, eyes burning with lust, pupils fully dilated to the point where her blue eyes looked black. 

“Please.”

It was only one word, but it was enough to tell Courtney where the night might possibly be going, snapping her into sobriety for a second to ask, “Do you…want to go inside?” 

Darienne was cool, but even so, she would probably prefer that they not fuck in full sight of her neighbors. Adore nodded, chest heaving, each breath straining against the buttons on her top that Courtney couldn’t wait to tear open. 

If you asked Courtney later, even the next day, she would admit that she had no actual memory of how they managed to find Darienne’s guest room on the top floor, because she was pretty sure she didn’t know that room existed before that night. But necessity, as they say, is the mother of invention, and Courtney’s aching need for Adore’s bare skin against hers was bordering on life or death at that point. 

Once inside, they were like a couple of ravenous beasts, tearing each other’s clothes off before they even got to the bed. Courtney pushed Adore backwards by her hips, knocking her off balance as she toppled onto the bed, never letting go, taking Courtney with her. 

They rolled around breathlessly, getting tangled in the covers until Courtney had the wherewithal to shove them aside. Remembering her earlier response, Courtney kissed a wet trail down her jaw, neck and throat to her chest, then sucked a nipple into her mouth, her hand kneading Adore’s other tit gently as she writhed and moaned. 

“God, fuck, keep…keep doing that,” Adore panted out. 

“Mmm,” Courtney hummed, and Adore immediately let out another moan. 

“Courtney…fuck…” Adore’s hips were rolling furiously, her thighs clamped around Courtney’s narrow hips like a vice, both of them grinding like their lives depended on it. They still had their panties on, and it was becoming painfully obvious that the thin cotton barrier wasn’t doing much. Courtney’s had been soaked through for ages, and now that Adore’s cutoff shorts were flung aside, she found herself wanting to explore her even more, to discover every part of her beautiful body, sliding her hands down. “Wait-” 

Courtney stopped, looking up at her. “Are you alright?” 

“Yeah, I just, um…I probably can’t get hard right now, but-”

“Okay. Do you still want to-” 

“Yeah! I mean, yeah,” Adore panted. “Keep going. Please” 

Courtney continued to kiss down her chest and belly, hooking her fingers into the side of her panties. Even though Adore had told her earlier what she liked, and confirmed it just then, Courtney paused before sliding her panties down to ask, “Is this okay?” 

After a vigorous nod of consent, Courtney continued, sliding them down, finally seeing all of her. She ran her hands gently up Adore’s thighs before slowly taking her soft dick into her mouth, swirling her tongue around, watching her hands turn to fists as she clutched at the sheets. 

“Is this good?” Courtney murmured, and Adore arched and moaned, a strangled ‘yes’ just barely discernible. She hummed against her again, and the writhing in response gave her all the motivation she needed to keep going. She reached up to toy with her tits, alternating between licking and then gently sucking her dick until Adore came with a series of broken moans. Courtney pressed hot, wet kisses up her body until they were once again face to face. 

“Jesus Christ,” Adore said. 

“Wow, forgot my name already?” Courtney quipped, pretending to be offended, and Adore chuckled weakly, running a hand through her hair. 

“You fuckin’ nerd.”

Courtney giggled, snuggling up against her, face tucked into her neck, inhaling her scent as Adore traced lazy patterns on her sweaty naked back. Courtney almost didn’t notice when her hips began to move again, rutting against Adore’s thigh as if her body had a mind of its own. Adore noticed, though, a sleepy smile spreading across her face. 

“Let me help you,” Adore whispered, fingers teasing the edge of Courtney’s panties. 

“Yes,” Courtney nodded emphatically, raising her hips just enough to let Adore’s hand inside. 

“God, you’re so wet,” Adore breathed, and all Courtney could manage was a whimper of agreement as long, graceful fingers found her clit. 

She was already close, and it seemed like within seconds of Adore toying gently with her—first tapping lightly and then rubbing circles and figure eights—she was coming with a gasp, body shuddering with pleasure before every muscle turned to liquid. She melted against Adore’s body, trying to catch her breath. 

Her eyelids felt heavy as she searched for Adore’s lips in the dark room. They hadn’t bothered to turn on a light, and blackout shades effectively kept out the lights from the party downstairs. It was like a perfect little cocoon, nothing but body heat and shared breath. 

They must have dozed off, because the next thing Courtney knew, she was roused awake by Adore shifting away from her. She lifted her head and rubbed her eyes, immediately disturbed by the loss of her touch.

“Sorry, did I wake you?” Adore whispered. She was half out of the bed, legs swung over the side. 

“Where are you going?” Courtney asked, trying to keep the panic and disappointment out of her voice. They’d only known each other twelve hours, so she certainly had no right to be this clingy, this upset at the idea of Adore leaving her. She reached for anyway, though, adding a pathetic, “Don’t go.”

“No, I just…I haven’t had a cigarette all day and I kind of wanted…” Adore trailed off, looking at Courtney’s anxious face, eyes then drifting down to her outstretched arm. “Or…I guess I’ve been trying to quit anyway.” 

A happy grin spread across Courtney’s face as Adore crawled back towards her. 

(Months later, Adore would joke to their friends that Courtney “made” her quit smoking, which Courtney adamantly denied, explaining, “I just didn’t want you to leave…”) 

Courtney wrapped her arms around Adore’s warm body, nuzzling against her, thrilled to have her back. If she’d been more awake (and sober), she might have been concerned at how obsessed she was with this girl already. But since she was still rocking a healthy buzz, all she felt was contentment and happiness. 

“We do have to find another way to solve my whole oral fixation though,” Adore mused. “Any ideas?” 

Courtney lifted her head, giving her a wicked smirk. “As a matter of fact…” 

***

Sometimes Courtney marveled at how easy it was with Adore; their lives seemed to blend together almost seamlessly. They skipped the casual dating phase completely, and soon enough, they were all but living together, with Adore sleeping over Courtney’s place almost every night. Courtney met Adore’s family, getting the necessary stamp of approval from her mother, and even their careers benefitted: Courtney’s manager recommended a much better booking agent for Adore, and one of Adore’s producer friends recruited Courtney to join a fledgling podcast company, something she took to like a pro. 

Courtney’s friends loved Adore right away, and Adore’s friends welcomed Courtney with loving, open arms. Maybe more importantly, they all liked each other, and pretty soon every party, every brunch, was a happy mix of people from both of their lives, to the point where they sometimes forgot who met who first. While Courtney was packing to visit her family in Australia for Christmas, the thought of separation weighing heavily on both their minds, Adore bit the bullet. 

She took Courtney’s hand and blurted out, “We should move in together!” 

“What?” 

“I mean…do you want to move in together?” she revised, giving those puppy eyes that Courtney could never say no to, even if she wanted to. 

“Yes!” she exclaimed, jumping into Adore’s lap and smothering her face with kisses. “Yes, I would love that! I love you…” 

It was beautifully fitting that pride was their anniversary. In 2014, they celebrated one year together, marching in the parade with Adore’s trans support group, both of them decked out in mermaid finery.

(“GAG,” Bianca said when Courtney told her the concept, but she’d relented and made their costumes anyway the second Adore batted one lash.) 

In 2015, Adore was finally starting to see real money from her music, getting bigger and better gigs—and even a mini-tour across the Pacific Northwest in March and April. Courtney’s podcast had taken off too, and before looking for a nicer apartment, they opted for an extra-opulent pride month. First, they did LA pride with all of their friends as usual and then, 2 weeks later, they flew to San Francisco to do it all again. In a wonderful and magical coincidence, they happened to be strolling around the Castro, fingers laced together, when they heard screams and cheers from Midnight Sun. They ducked into the historic bar to find a jubilant celebration underway: the Supreme Court had just handed down the landmark decision to make same-sex marriage the law of the land. 

In the midst of the crying, the hugging, the squeals of delight, Courtney managed to get her arms around Adore, hugging her waist from behind, forehead pressed to her shoulder. Adore sighed happily and turned around, tipping Courtney’s chin up for a slow, lazy kiss. 

“This is fucking cool, huh?” Adore said, once they separated. 

“Really fucking cool,” Courtney agreed, arms still securely around her waist, heart light and happy. She was surprised, actually, how incredible she felt. A handful of states, as well as a bunch of countries, already had gay marriage. For awhile now, it hadn’t felt to Courtney like an urgent fight—at least not the most important fight, when plenty of places had much bigger battles, and when her own girlfriend’s identity was constantly being vilified. 

But it really was magical, causing tears to well up in her eyes and filling her with hope that she didn’t even know she was missing. 

“So…” she said, biting back a happy grin. “What do you think? Wanna get married?” 

“You mean like now?” Adore said, taken aback. 

“Not like today,” Courtney countered, suddenly worried that she’d come on too strong. But they’d been together for two years—and living together for the majority of that time, she reasoned with herself. It’s not like this was an insane, out-of-the-blue discussion. 

“Okay good,” Adore breathed, looking a bit too relieved for Courtney’s taste. 

She scrunched up her face, saying, “Wow, thanks.” 

“No! I just mean because like, I feel like we’re too young to even think about that!” Adore said. 

“I’m 31,” Courtney reminded her, “And you’re 27.” 

“Exactly! Infants!” Adore gave her a lopsided smile. The kind that usually charmed the pants off her. But today somehow, it was losing its luster. “Do you really want to be a child bride?” 

Courtney rolled her eyes. “Nevermind, Adore. Forget I said anything about it-”

“Don’t be mad,” she implored. 

“I’m not mad,” Courtney said. And she wasn’t. It wasn’t as if she was dying to get married; she’d just gotten caught up in the moment. A triumphant, wonderful moment that she was determined to still enjoy. 

“Well…” Adore twirled a lock of fading lavender hair, biting her lip. “I do think…like, hypothetically, that if I was gonna get married…” 

Courtney looked back up at her, a breath catching in her throat as her eyes met Adore’s. 

“...I’d definitely want it to be to you.” 

“Yeah?” Courtney felt any residual irritation dissolve as a smile pulled on the corner of her mouth. 

“Fuck yeah.” 

Courtney leaned forward, placing a soft kiss on her lips. “Me too. Hypothetically.” 

She let the conversation go, for now, simply enjoying the magical day. After all, it was pride, and Courtney wasn’t about to let anything ruin it, especially not a non-argument like that.

***

The next year, Adore was on tour during all of May and June. Courtney flew to Austin to surprise her for an early anniversary celebration, and Adore responded by pulling her up onstage to join them for a few numbers, much to the delight of the crowd. 

Afterwards, in the hotel, Courtney emerged from the bathroom wearing nothing but her favorite strap-on and a smirk.

“Hey,” she said, leaning against the doorframe. 

Adore sat up in bed, her eyes widening with delight. “Hiii.” 

Courtney giggled, lashes fluttering, and sauntered forward. “Ready for some fun?” 

“Always!” Adore simpered at her, head tilted. 

Before they met, Courtney hadn’t been that interested in dildo play. She’d always had plenty of great sex without any toys whatsoever, and if she was gonna get (or give) technological help, nothing beat a simple vibrator. 

When Adore suggested the strap, at first Courtney had been a little offended. Was she not capable of pleasuring her girlfriend without a dick? She figured that wearing it would make her feel like an imposter, like she was trying to be a man. Like she’d be proving fucking Freud and his stupid theory about penis envy right. 

She could not have been more wrong. 

First of all, the dildo they’d chosen while wandering through the Pleasure Chest looked nothing like a dick. It was pink and purple, sparkly, and glowed in the dark. It was ribbed, and came with both a removable bullet vibrator and piece on the end that pressed against her own clit when she used it.

Most important, it made Adore tremble with pleasure, allowed her to fuck her girlfriend silly while her hands stayed free to roam around her body. She could look into her eyes or kiss her while she came, and that was the best fucking part. 

There was also, somehow, an energy shift in the room when the dildo appeared. It made even the laziest kisses, the most delicate cuddling, feel more charged. So even as they kissed, as Courtney removed her clothes, worshiping every part of her with her mouth, her hands, she knew that Adore’s attention was always at least partly fixated on the strap between her legs, eyes dilating every time she gazed down at her.

Eventually, Courtney knelt over her on the bed, barely touching her, as she squirmed and panted heavily below. She then trailed one finger up her thigh, parting her legs with zero effort. She let her eyes travel up and down Adore’s body, leaning over slowly as Adore whimpered, knowing what was coming. She tormented her for a few more seconds until finally sucking one erect nipple into her mouth. 

“Fuck,” Adore groaned, arching up, hands threading into Courtney’s hair. In no time at all, she was writhing and begging for more. 

After giving her an indulgent smile, Courtney leaned over and growled, “Turn over,” directly into her ear. 

Adore complied immediately, with a whimper and zero hesitation. Courtney pushed her hair out of the way, kissing the back of neck, hands wandering over her body, squeezing her perfectly round ass. Her mouth traveled down her spine. 

Courtney lubed her up generously, feeling flutters of her own cunt pulsing beneath the strap as Adore pushed her ass up, letting Courtney stretch her as she panted into the pillow. She was so needy, so desperate, that Courtney was tempted to take her like this, from behind, face buried in her hair, hands reaching around to toy with her perfect tits. It would be good, Courtney knew, but what she really wanted was to look into her eyes. 

However, that didn’t stop her from teasing, from pressing the dildo against her as she ran her slippery-with-lube hands all over her body, fingers circling her nipples, one hand reaching down to her girldick to stroke her, Adore’s whimpers growing more pleading, more urgent, with every second. 

“Baby, you feel so fucking good,” Courtney whispered into her neck, then tapped on her hip gently. 

That was all it took for her to flip back over eagerly, drawing her legs back. Courtney smiled at the sight, then gave her a deep, wet kiss, tongue plunging into her mouth, teasing her hole with just the very tip of the dildo. 

“Fuck me, please,” Adore begged, fingers digging into Courtney’s shoulders. 

“You sure you’re ready?” Courtney teased, knowing full well exactly how ready she was. 

Adore’s response was a choked whimper, which turned into a satisfied moan as Courtney pushed the dildo slowly inside her, pressing kisses to her open mouth. Before she even began to roll her hips, Adore was arching up against her. She shifted her weight to bear down, slowing the rhythm, every thrust of her hips met with increasingly desperate whimpers. 

As Courtney trailed her fingers up Adore’s body, thumbs circling her nipples, her whimpers turned to moans. 

“I love you so much,” Courtney said. 

“Love you,” Adore echoed, head thrown back , eyes squeezed shut. 

“Are you gonna come for me, baby?” Courtney asked. 

“Uh huh…fuck…” 

Adore’s nails raked down Courtney’s back and dug into her ass, making her shiver as she picked up the pace, fucking her deep and hard, swallowing her moans with open-mouthed kisses. Courtney wasn’t sure who came first, but her hips kept moving until they’d both collapsed in a sweaty, satisfied heap, sheets tangled beneath them. 

“You’re so beautiful,” Courtney murmured, before pressing a kiss to Adore’s temple, arms still wrapped around her waist. As hot and sweaty as she was, she didn’t want to let go. Ever.

Courtney loved pride for many reasons, but that year, that pride in Austin, would always go down as one of her favorites. Especially considering what came next. 

[insufferablelust]

Little Butterfly I (Sugar Daddy Mob Boss!Spencer Reid x Reader AU)

Warnings: Part 1 of an ongoing series (that i hopefully won’t abandon), Upcoming heavy violence, Mafia and Crime related fic, Spencer is a soft dom but is dangerous, HEAVY SMUT, upcoming dark kinks (Gun,Knife,Bondage etc), daddy kink for sure, Manipulation kink, Degradation, Humiliation (yknow the drill with me) spoiling kink?, upcoming murders etc, heavy topic regarding mental illness, College legal age!Reader, Age gap, older!Spencer, Mean!Spencer, BDSM themed, Indication of Subspace, Just heavily dark smutty series (yet again lmao) 

Hello, my wonderful readers, i want to thank you all for the patience you all have for this series, hopefully i can stick to schedule an update this once a week like Thrilled. This will be a new territory for me since all i know about mafia and such are from the movies and countless books my father has inherited me with, so i deeply apologize if there’re some mistakes, this is an AU that means its only a story and fantasy. If you are uncomfortable to violence and sex then PLEASE DO NOT READ THIS. Thank you, and Happy Reading. 

This series will set around the 80′s New York.

MASTERLIST HERE

There is no hiding from the absolute luxury you indulge in, in fact you love showing it to whoever might want to pry deep enough into your life. You caused no harm by it, and it certainly isn’t anybody’s business but yours and his.

The pair of arms around your waist is a certain remainder of who you belong to, and you loved it. He looked good tonight, almost too good with the suit adorning his perfection like an absolute genius adonis— your genius adonis. You feel your cheeks heats up slightly as he glanced at you, knowing just how shy you get around so many people— his little girl is sensitive after all.

Spencer Reid knows every little thing about you, what makes you tick, what makes you snap, what makes you bow in submission to him, and what makes you feel heavenly. He knows it all, he knows the way you trembled slightly whenever he wrapped his arms around your neck as he leaned down to kiss you, or how squirmy you get whenever he tug your hair, said your name calmly whilst shoving his fingers into your mouth— he knows everything.

—

It was a mutual agreement at first, living on 80’s New York has never been so stressful during your 20’s, all the student loans, the bartending you do sometimes, even the couple of scandalous photoshoots you sacrificed yourself doing to keep your bank account afloat. Your family never really cared much, and the only person that you truly have is Emily, your roommate.The whole ordeal was strange when you found out Emily’s ties to the mafia, being the daughter of one of the strongest mafia’s capo on America during that time. You wondered how on earth she has managed to doesn’t want to get on her father’s good side, and just except the riches that comes along with being a mob, but then again you were a stranger to it too...or so you thought.

The night she asked you to accompany her to meet her father and his boss, you shrugged and said yes, having nothing to do in the apartment other than wallowing in your own debts and sadness— you immediately agrees which put a smile on her cute face.

“I thought you didn’t want nothing to do with your father.” You asked as you raked through the closet to find something... ‘elegant’ but not too much, it’s going to be in a lavish restaurant after all. Your eyes darted to Emily’s who has been staring at her phone, smiling to whoever is texting her— you could only assumed it was one of her secret girlfriend-hookup for the week.

“Well i didn’t but money is tight, fucking inflation.” She looked up for once, lips hanging open at the sight of you standing there in a black dress, short with a slit on the thigh area— looking absolutely ravenous. “Holy fucking shit.” Emily whispered.

“What? is this enough? god i feel like such a prude.” You bit your lip as you await her comments, “You look fucking gorgeous you idiot, i mean are you sure you aren’t gay by any chance?” She laughed, which caused you to giggle, “I never said i’m not gay.. just that i’m not—

“Interested in dating, yeah yeah but we can at least fuck or something.” She jokingly raised her eyebrows as you throw your bra her way and laughed, “I just don’t want to get distracted em, especially that we live together.” You pouted before giving her a kiss on the cheek, which made her roll her eyes and smile.

Only if you knew what this meeting will entails.

—

The wine tasted exquisite on your tongue, the sweet burn of merlot was pleasant on the base of your throat which shocked you at first— maybe you should stop buying cheap wines, because the real ones are heavenly. You looked around nervously, it has been a long time since you’ve gone out to have dinner, let alone one as expensive as this.

“Stop looking like you’re about to die.” Emily whispers as she took the seat next to you, which you humorously giggle and swat her shoulder, “I’m not. It’s just.. new to me is all.” You nervously chuckled, before sipping on your wine some more. It was clear that her dad and his so called mob boss were late— which you rolled your eyes since Emily was basically rushing your make up, you just hoped that you looked decent enough, not that you want to impress anyone, its just good to feel like you’ve fit yourself to the occasion.

“Oh, you’ll get used to it.” Emily chuckled, before you could even process what she meant by that the sound of a soft elderly timbre rang through your ears, “Cara mia! Jesus, you’ve grown!” Emily slapped your thigh softly, gesturing for you to stand up.

Dear heaven, lord save your knees from buckling.

You watched as Emily greeted her father as you stood by her side, she kisses him on both cheeks as they made a small conversation that you pay no mind to since you were distracted, distracted by the pair of eyes that caught yours from the moment he walked in.

A soft yet stern eyes that held yours captive at this very moment, a presence that demands every single person for its attention, and intimidating like no other. A man, a finely sculpted man, standing in front of you in an attire that you were sure was more expensive than your whole closet, His soft looking curls marvelously falls fo his side, his plump lips were begging to be kissed— to be listened, to be heard, his tall lean figure towers over you which has you gulping down nervously— so much so that you failed to acknowledged the presence of Emily’s father calling your name.

“Y/N!” You let out a gasp before turning to shake Emily’s father’s hand, trying your best to smile as you glanced over the towering man, “So this is the Y/N i’ve heard so much about huh?” The old man snickered, looking gentle whilst maintaining a facade still. You giggled softly, “I hope there are all good things, nice to meet you Mr.Prentiss.”

“Oh please, Robert is fine. Oh Emily, Y/N this is don Reid.” He stepped back in.. what looks like an utter fear, you gasped as you realized that this is.. the mob boss Emily talked about, the masochistically handsome man you’ve been staring at— you thought a mafia boss would be someone older, but this is certainly not the case.

“Pleased to meet you both, Spencer Reid.” He extended his hand which Emily gladly took before she nudges your side whilst you were still gawking at the man, the soft yet deep timbre of his voice soothes and intimidate you at the same time, not to mention how he carries himself— practically saying he’s a god.

“Oh— um yes hello, pleased to meet you, i’m Y/N.” You bit your lip as you feel your cheeks hurt from the embarrassment, shaking his hand quickly— before you could even imagine pulling away, he gives you an amused chuckle and squeeze your hand tightly before releasing you.

“Well, let’s take a seat shall we?”

You are so fucking fucked.

--

“So, Y/N, Emily told me you’re majoring in art department, how’re you liking it?” Robert spoke as you eat your pasta slowly, trying not to show how you were trembling under the very same gaze that held you captive from the moment it arrives here. You gulped down a delicious bite of pancetta, before answering, “Oh i love it, always been my passion— well painting is, but i do love everything about art and literature.” You chuckled.

“I would love to see your art sometimes.” The voice could strangle you and you’d die happily, it really could— you glanced at the man whose been looking at you like a wolf to its prey, fingers skimming over the feet of the wine glass as a soft yet eloquent smile strikes over his face.

“Oh um, it’s not— it’s not that good, i wouldn’t want to waste your time.” You choked on your wine, feeling the burn on your throat as he let out a humorous-less laugh, shaking his head, before bringing his lean fingers to his lips. “Nothing is wasteful, not if it comes to such art like you.”

What?

“Huh?” You felt small, your cheeks heated at the reference as you tried so hard not to squirm and praised yourself by hearing what you thought you heard. Your eyes darted to his in a shy manner as he kept his composure well, licking the rim of his glass before sipping his wine gently.

“Anyways! dad, shall we talk a bit more private? i’m sure Y/N can keep the don company.” You gasped at Emily’s words, still barely grasping the previous encounter— the bottom of your heel jab at her left foot, as you glared at her, “Of course of course, don?” Robert spoke up, eyes lowering as his body turned to look at the smirking masterpiece that still stares at you with the same intensity.

“Go. We’ll be fine, won’t we angel?” You gulped down as much wine as you could without burning your throat before smiling nervously, eyes glancing back and forth to The Don and Emily.

“Y-Yes um sure.” You offered a gentle smile, even though your heels jabbed Emily’s which yet again resulted in her tiny laugh before she walks away to the back area of the restaurant.

The area was thick with intensity and glamorous lights, adding to the headache that already starts due to you being a lightweight around alcohol. Suddenly you realized, that you’re practically alone— with the don of the biggest mafia ring in America. “Go ahead and ask me the question.” He murmured sternly, causing your ears to perk at the sudden thrill that made your goosebumps rose and thrived under the shimmering lights.

“Pardon?” Your fingers fiddled with the hem of your dress as you tried so hard not to stare at the huge man, feeling as if you’re being cornered by a lion, and you his prey.

“Your cheeks are warm aren’t they? you keep biting your lips every time i muttered a word, you can’t even look at me because you know that the second you do, you wouldn’t be able to stop. Emily is right, you’re a pure little thing, its fucking cute really. If this table weren’t here separating us, you’d be across my lap already— for wearing something so slutty like that.” By the time he finishes taunting you, you stopped breathing, thigh squeezing against each other so tightly that you could feel how damp your panties are getting.

“Go ahead and ask, doll. Surely you can’t be dumb enough to think i would just allow anyone to meet me let alone a little college student like you.” His eyebrow lifted, as you nervous squirmed on your seat and breathed out.

“Why did you asked her to bring me?”

“Nicely. You know better, Y/N.”

“Sir...”

—

And the rest was history, the pair of arms around your waist tighten as the owner’s lips caress and nip at the very sensitive part of your neck, causing you to shudder and mewls. “mmh.. t-too early.” You complained, fully knowing that would only amuse him even more.

He chuckled as you had predicted, nimble fingers grazing up and down your front like feathers, delicately worshipping every inch of your skin. The blaring sound of New York’s traffic was prominent, but somehow that adds a thrilling aspect for you, months ago— you were picking up morning shifts by now, working your ass off just to gain enough cash to pay this month’s rent. But now, here you are, in the arms of the most feared yet young powerful don in the entirety of the mob community, Heck if everyone knows who he is and how much power he holds— they’d all fear him, but not you, not his fiery little butterfly.

“Shh, let me love on you a little.” Your heart warmed, familiar feeling of a thousand butterflies swarming on your belly caused your cheeks to warmed at the gesture. He said things like those often, though he made it perfectly clear that you were, you are only here for business arrangements, you knew he likes to toy over affection like this— one you aren’t supposed to get attached to. But how couldn’t you? when his hand so softly glides down the curve of your godly features, warm breath fanning across your skin from behind, whispering sweet words.

“Look so pretty for me, butterfly.” He whispered, causing you to yet again whimpers, hand clutching the sheets tightly as he moves down down down until he turned you over and settle between your legs, smiling at you. “If heaven is real, you’re definitely it.” He nipped and bit the exposed skin of your thighs, last night and the night before and before still there but like he said,

“If you agree to the terms, i’ll give you every damn thing you fucking want. Your bills, rents, loans, plus each and every single thing you wished to buy.”

“And in retur—“

“In return, you will be mine, mine to have whenever wherever i want, you won’t be my chained slave or nothing, but you’ll be mine.”

So marked you again and again he did, tearing your satin panties he did, panties that cost more than a week worth of luxury meal that he only grunted with “I’ll buy the whole fucking store, now shut up and let daddy eat his breakfast.”

You swore you’re in god’s heaven then and there, even if you aren’t sure that you believe in one, you can’t help but to think that this is some kind of miracle, your life is, here you have a perfect adonis, suckling on your clit as his fingers pump your delectable cunt in and out with such a fast pace that made you feel all floaty and flustered. The same man that commands the room whenever he walks in, the same man who pay all your bills, the same man who bought you a new lavish apartment and hands you gifts every damn day.

“Oh! oh please daddy right there..” You moaned out loud as your fingers latched onto his hair, softly tug on them as he moaned against your drippy cunt and suck your clit even harder,earning a particularly loud and lewd moan from you. “mmh! a-ah! i’m gonna—“ He held his finger up then, eyes finding yours as his mouth continues to work on your now sensitive clit. Spencer wasn’t too strict or nothing about your rules but if there’s two that he’s strict about is for you to cum only if he gives you permission— no matter the place or time, if he wants you to cum, you’ll cum— not that it’s hard, with someone as skilled as him.

When you begged and begged, he slapped your thigh only to grunt darkly, “If you can’t shut up and let daddy enjoys this, i’ll fucking take you on the balcony and fuck you for all Manhattan to see. Do you want that, Butterfly? want everyone to see what a filthy college girl you are getting fucked by someone as dangerous as me?” He slapped your cunt then, over and over again as you pant, and mewls.. Body jolts and pulsed at his ministration.

“You’re going to cum like this—“ He paused to spit directly onto your swollen clit, watching it wet the sensitive nub, “Going to cum with daddy slapping your greedy little cunt. Or you are not getting an orgasm.”

“Yes, daddy— oh!” True to his words, he spank you, over and over again, leaving you quivering and brokenly cried at the burning pleasure, “Cum princess, come on, you surely know how to thank daddy don’t you?” Your hole clenched around nothing as you arch your back and sobbed,

“Can’t— daddy please i-“

“You were so fucking desperate to cum, why not now huh? your sensitive cunt surely looks wrecked enough.” He scoffed before he spank your clit so hard you jumped at the sensation before he licked his fingers and caress your clit in fast fanning motion, not giving you enough time to even breathe as your cunt pulses and throb with overwhelming need of release, building up up up, up until you finally trembled and cum all over the bed— an orgasm so intense that you blacked out for few seconds straight.

“Shh.. shh good girl, that’s it— fuck you look so ethereal like this, butterfly.” He muses as he settle his head on your lap and admire your pulsing body, “T-Thank- y-you.. daddy.” You gathered all the strength you have left as he smiled proudly.

Your head laid on his chest as you both cuddle in silence, trying to enjoy the serenity and calm environment around you as the city below you buzzed all round. It was calming for awhile before his phone rang and you involuntarily sighs, “I know pretty girl, i know.” He muttered, before smiling apologetically- Not that he needs to.. Business arrangements, not like you’re his girlfriend or nothing.

love on you,

love on you,

let me love on you,

You forced your fuzzy subby mind to get the thoughts out, as you watched his figure put on his robe, and leaned down, “I’ll be back later okay, don’t forget to check your phone.” He kissed your forehead for a bit, letting it linger as you held back your tears, wishing he could stay with you, you need your daddy, you really really do need him now. Feeling all small and fuzzy like this. But with the blaring noise of his ringtone, you knew the don has business to take care of and of course you’re not important enough to held such important task to be left.

So you smiled all nicely and kissed all the rings finger on his fingers before bidding a tiny whimper of, “Best of luck, don.” Your head bowed a little in respect as he noticed the true and true sadness flashed across your eyes, but paid it no mind as his other burner phone blared.

“Thank you, Butterfly. Get dressed soon, and i’ll have Morgan bringing you that sandwich from the deli you love so much. I’ll see you soon.”

Oh how nice would it be if this is your life, but life doesn’t always have a happy ending after all.

——

Comment or send me a message if you want to be added to this series taglist!

[sleepless-in-starbucks]

Not to me. Not if it’s you.

Ao3

Summary: Logan was, regrettably, rather accustomed to unpleasant accouters in public. They were an android, such things were always happening for their kind. But that was before they had Remy. Content: Injury, non-graphic violence, talk of bad/abusive parent (not exactly a parent but same concept), murder threats (not carried out), people being jerks to androids because people are jerks, it’s actually pretty soft, non-binary!remy, non-binary!logan Pairing: Losleep Notes: remy’s pronoun set is ay/em/air/airs/emself

~

    Remy had always hated people. Too often they tended to be rude and cruel and vicious and selfish and just plain mean. And it was to air immense displeasure that ay was technically a part of that species.

    (Sometimes, those few people Remy considered passable would joke that’s why Remy started dating an android, that ay could never have found it within emself to settle with another human being. Remy would always snort at the joke before shaking air head. “I would’ve made an exception for my sweetheart.” Ay’d say before grinning. “It’s my luck that I didn’t have to.”)

    The one thing to be said for humans, at the very least, was that they usually stuck to being verbal bitches, at least with strangers- which was a whole ‘nother thing, but Remy digressed. Most people didn’t start anything physical unless someone was drunk or someone was protective.

    ‘Usually.’ ‘Most.’

    “Murder, I’m going to commit murder.” Remy muttered under air breath, trying not to completely lose air focus. Logan’s wrist was still sparking at the break point, metal and wire revealed beneath split artificial skin, and Logan needed that fixed before Remy could go off on air killing spree.

    Logan laughed lightly, taking this all much too well in stride, in Remy’s opinion. Granted, they had already turned off the sensors in their injured arm, the lack of any sort of pain likely taking away from the regular level of stress such an event would cause, but still. “That seems a bit extreme.”

    “He broke your wrist!” Remy protested, glaring at the wrist in question. The asshole was lucky he had only broken the skin and tweaked some wires- had the metal in the arm been damaged at all, Remy would’ve just killed him on the spot. “Just to prove a stupid-ass point he didn’t have any business proving.”

    “Technically, he can not break my wrist in the manner humans typically mean.” Logan pointed out, offering Remy an amused smile when ay shot them a look. “You already, as you may say, ‘returned his favor’ in double, my love. Going back for murder is excessive.”

    Remy took a moment to revel in the recent memory as ay carefully moved all the wires in Logan’s wrist back to their regular positions. Logan’s skin had made an awful sort of cracking noise as it broke open, and as soon as Remy had heard it, ay had jumped on their attacker. His first wrist snapped against the metal of Logan’s, and the second Remy twisted right into a brick wall. “I’m just saying he’d deserve it.”

    “Perhaps.” Logan sounded amused. They fell into an easy silence as Remy continued air work, adding a new protective coating to the wires that had gotten theirs torn open and double checking that everything was in place as it should be.

    “You have done it better than I believe even I could.” Logan commented softly as Remy examined air work.

    “I meant it when I said I’d take care of you, doll, all of you. Fights and repairs included.” Remy replied, equally soft. Logan wasn’t a factory-produced android, instead one custom-made by yet another sucky human who had dropped them off in the nearest dump as soon as Logan was no longer ‘new’ or ‘interesting’ enough in their awful eyes.

    The night Logan had given Remy their blueprints, it had been with a rueful smile, explaining that they weren’t expecting Remy to actually look at them, just that ay should have them in case something did go horribly wrong and some engineer or mechanic needed to know how to put them back together.

    Two days later Remy had them memorized. Like hell would ay ever let someone else fix up air Logan, whether it be for a total system failure or a tiny skin break.

    Remy folded the artificial skin of Logan’s wrist back into place, gently rubbing a glue-lotion over the tear. Satisfied that air work would hold until the skin wove itself back together, Remy wrapped it all up in a brace. Only after gracing it all with a kiss, of course.

    “And now that that’s done…” Remy paused for a moment as ay put away air joint first-aid and repair kit, “how are you feeling?”

    “I am perfectly alright.” Logan answered, seeming uninterested in the emotional turmoil Remy was fairly certain they should be in as they watched their fingers move.

    Remy frowned. “Some asshole tried to snap your wrist because you refused to split your chest open and prove you were an android. That sorta pain ain’t just physical, babe.”

    “It is hardly the first time I have been accosted in public.” Logan said dismissively, though the bittersweet smile they offered Remy betrayed more than they were saying.

    “That doesn’t make it easier, or okay.” Remy shifted further onto the bed, slipping behind Logan to lean them against air chest. Instinctively, Logan tucked their head back against air shoulder as Remy’s arms slipped around their waist. “Talk to me.”

    A quiet sigh. “You are correct in saying it does not become okay simply because it has occurred repeatedly. Nor usually would it become easier. But, I must admit, in all honesty… having you has made it so.”

    Remy hummed encouragingly for Logan to go on as ay pulled air fingers through their hair. The texture was soft, the edges jagged from where Logan had defiantly chopped the symmetrical ends off- one of the many reminders of their creator’s tainted ‘perfection’ that Logan had wanted nothing to do with. It truly was their hair, and Remy loved it.

    “When I was accosted during the time I was still with my creator, they would force me to bend to any human’s odd whims. Should an attack occur, I would be left undefended, and only occasionally assisted in the aftermath.” Logan explained. Their voice didn’t break, but Remy could feel the way they stiffened as they recalled the memories. Ay pressed a kiss against their temple, willing emself to remain focused on Logan and not how dearly ay wanted to put a rusty pipe through their creator’s throat.

    “When alone, I would rarely be able to fend off those… particularly determined persons, and I would have no one to assist me in the aftermath.” Logan paused as their gaze shifted back to their wrist, their uninjured hand moving to rest on top of the brace Remy had put on. “They were bad times. I often felt rather alone, or even pathetic.”

    The arm Remy had left around Logan’s waist tightened. “I don’t ever want you to feel like that again, darling.”

    Logan chuckled, once more relaxing against Remy. “Precisely my point. Before I had you, such events as today’s were not simply stressful in and of themselves, but also in their build-up and aftermath. With you, well…”

    And then Logan laughed, and Remy was very happily reminded of just how dearly ay adored air partner. “You broke his wrists! And you attended to my injuries with more care than- well- anyone ever has. If you intend for this to be the standard of dealing with my public disruptions, I do not think I have to be as distressed by them as I once was.”

    “So… what I’m getting here… is that you’d actually be thrilled if I headed back and took out that asshole?”

    Remy didn’t need to see Logan roll their eyes (affectionately) to know that they had, Logan turning their head to press a kiss to air cheek. “Maybe next time.”

    “Rain check accepted.” Remy joked, settling air head on top of Logan’s. In a sweeter and genuine tone, ay added, “I’m more than happy to make sure you never have a bad interaction go unpunished and unattended ever again, my dear dork.”

    “My queer bodyguard.” Logan murmured in reply, smiling when Remy laughed. “I am immensely fond of you.”

    Remy kissed their forehead. “I love you a lot too, sugar. Wanna cuddle while we watch trash?”

    “With you? Always.”

    So, yeah. Remy hated people, a viewpoint ay felt was wholly justified. But Logan wasn’t a people. As far as Remy was concerned, in air gay-centered mind, Logan wasn’t even an android.

    Logan was Logan, and Logan was perfect.

[saintqueer]

Hi!! I’m the anon that came to you asking for advice on how to celebrate my queerness at my Harry concert without possibly outing myself to anyone who would see photos/videos of me after. I’m back with my report essay, teach!

First off, I need to say I really appreciate you taking the time to not only answer me and give so many options/so much advice, but you really made me feel like I was not alone. I’m in my mid-twenties and came into my sexuality fairly recently and my only queer friends have known and been out basically their whole lives, so I feel weirdly alone in my experiences sometimes. I’ll get the feeling that I’m abnormal and that feeling eats away at me until I have little to no joy to experience anymore, and I was very scared for that to happen at the concert. Logic never applies to this feeling, so even though I knew I wasn’t the only queer person there, I knew I wasn’t the only… “non-het fan” there, my demons were still in the back of my head threatening to steal my joy.

I’m glad to report that that was not the case and I had the time of my life. We ended up very rushed for time before the concert, so my planned rainbow underwear (it was too funny not to do) didn’t happen, but I did take a moment on our way to the venue to think over what H and his music means to me, how he and L (and the other boys) have helped me through so much and continue to do so. I have a rainbow TPWK keychain that I had hooked to my pocket wallet (and hand sanitizer, duh) and I used that like a worry stone while in line. I just tried to prepare myself for the spiritual experience I knew the concert would be.

And man… did I experience something. I don’t think I’ve ever gone so hard in my life? I danced so hard my legs were trembling all night, I sang/screamed so loud I had no voice left, I cried so much, and I went so extra gay and lost my mind for every little gay thing that there was no question of my identity. There was something about just being in the same room with H that made me feel so loved and welcomed and free. I don’t know how he does it, but it felt like a welcome home hug. It’s a little funny, like why was I so nervous in the first place? (I’m not going to lie, there were points that I wasn’t entirely comfortable and definitely retreated into my shell a bit (mostly before the show, seeing some absurd signs that were confiscated and feeling as though I was the only one who saw Harry as a fellow Not Straight™️) but they were nothing compared to the pure joy that I felt once Harry got on stage.)

Just a little extra because so much happened (and I think I may have blacked out a little bit but)… my cousin is and always has been very accepting of me, but sometimes that devil comes back and tells me it’s just an act, she really despises me, all that nonsense. And that voice was nagging me, telling me to tone down my gayness, she was embarrassed by me. And then Lights Up started. And H asked for the pride flag and he began to run. And she grabbed my hand and squeezed so tight and the love I felt in that moment (from H, from my cousin, from the screaming crowd) was so overwhelming that I began to cry some of the happiest tears in my life. The relief of seeing H in person with the flag that means so much to so many of us, to me, to him, and feeling the obvious support of my loved one was just so much. And of all times to be reminded of that love, H’s concert where he speaks of supporting each other, of having each other’s backs just a little bit more.. it felt very powerful.

Anyway. Rambling aside, I want to thank you for the advice and open arms. You are a wonderful example as to how fandom isn’t just about being a fan, it’s also about being a community. Sending you the biggest hug, all of the love and joy. Thank you. <3

(Also the fact that he decided to sing TBSL the next night and not when I was there felt like a hate crime but that’s beside the point).

MY FRIEND!!!!!! I was just thinking about you yesterday!!!! Now you are here and when i tell you this message made me cry, it REALLY made me cry. But it was happy tears so many happy tears i haven't had in a while.

It means the world to know every little tidbit you shared. It sounds like the best time. I'm like hugging your cousin in my head for gripping your hand during that. I'm so happy you went crazy and wild and danced. Harry would be so fucking thrilled to know that you felt embraced and loved and accepted by him. That's everything he says he wants his shows to be. I'm so comforted to know that still exists in tour!

You are so so so brave and strong for embracing your queerness whether you are out or not. Makes no difference in your bravery! I wish i could send this message to harr, god i just know he would love it.

I can't thank you enough for coming back to share! This made my whole day. AND GOD, that last line you wrote about fandom is not just about being a fan but about being a community!!!!! PLASTER THAT ON THE WALLS OF TUMBLR PLEASE!!!!

Im sorry my chicago night stole tbsl from you 😩 someone needs to scold harry...i will do so on your behalf!

You are an a little queer angel, anon, and gosh i'm so proud of you!!!!!

[hooman4ever]

Hello, match-up for survivor (Dead By Daylight) please. I’m a transmasc and gay (I like men) I’m 6’1, 22 years old. I’m Mexican, tan skin, short black hair, and pretty muscular. I have a habit of switching from English to Spanish. I can be sweet, calm, humorous and then suddenly serious, scary, aggressive. Strong, sarcastic, loyal, and overprotective. I spend most time outside, I love the woods. Unafraid to get dirty, a thrill seeker, and a handyman. I know wrestling and fistfighting. Thank you!

I don't know why but the thought of you and David is stuck in my mind.

David is a pretty outspoken man and he is quick to greet you when you show up in The Entity’s realm. David loves your sweet side as much as he adores your scary side and often teases you when you're more serious trying to make you break out in a smile and lose your tuff demeanor. Much like you David is unafraid to get dirty and lives for the thrill of a good fight. Man will be more than down to playfully fight with you and will randomly sneak up to you and put you in a headlock while relaxing around the survivor camp. David loves how handy you are too and would try to help you with whatever project you set your mind to.

He fonds over you and your muscular form. David loves holding onto your arm or biceps when both of you are relaxing together. David would be more than happy to go on a forest adventure with you if you want he would be boasting about how he would “Protect his [Y/n] at all costs,” and he would if a killer were to appear David would be there taking hits and making sure your safe.

You wouldn’t be the only overprotective man in this relationship as David values you over everything and would rather die than see you hurt. Loyalty is a big thing that David himself values so you being a loyal person is perfect to him.

When it comes to you switching between English and Spanish David he would simply nod along with whatever your saying simply happy to hear you talk even if he doesn’t understand a word you're saying. He would press you to teach him some Spanish though and he would work hard to learn everything you teach him.

David would have no qualms about you being trans. He would be the kind of idiot to cry when you come out saying something stupid like “I feel horrible-- you mean to tell me I've been misgendering you this whole time.” while thinking you were cis to begin with till you explain you were indeed a man. After that David will be relieved he didn’t make you uncomfortable and nothing about how he sees you would change.

[potrix-the-queerschlaeger]

in the waves of change [part I]

Guess who fell head first into the gay pirate fandom? Yeah, it’s this idiot. Can stand alone and is also available over on AO3.  [part II]

▫ sometimes in the waves of change, we find our true direction ▫  

The realisation hurts, the pain sudden and sharp and not unlike being run through by a rapier, although admittedly, Stede probably should have seen it coming, after everything; that Ed doesn’t trust him.

And Stede can’t blame him for it, can he? It’s his own fault, after all.

It had taken Stede weeks to arrange for everything—faking one’s own death had turned out to be surprisingly involved—and then find first their crew, convince or bribe them to follow him once more, and eventually track down Ed and the ship.

To say Ed hadn’t been thrilled to see him would be a huge understatement.

Stede can be persistent, however, if he’s put his mind, or heart, to something, and they’re both very firmly set on making Ed happy again. Whatever it takes, and however long it might be.

And they’ve been making progress, Stede likes to think. Things aren’t as they’ve been before, of course not, but the mood among the crew has steadily been improving ever since Ed and Stede decided to co-captain again, and Ed and Stede themselves, well.

Stede had been under the impression that they were on the right track to salvage their budding romance, but maybe—no, Stede won’t doubt himself. They are on the right track, most definitely, but maybe not as far along as Stede would hope or wish.

As today has unfortunately proven.

(More after the break!)

Running across Doug at the harbour earlier that morning had been an unexpected but joyous surprise, and Stede had readily accepted his invitation to join him and Mary in the city for lunch and a bit of catching up, genuinely thrilled to hear about their recent wedding. He’d sent Oluwande back to the ship to tell Ed he’d be a few more hours, because it really would have been a shame not to take advantage of being back on land to stock up on a few of the finer things most pirate ports don’t offer.

Stede had bidden Mary and Doug goodbye after lunch, not wanting to intrude too much on what was essentially their honeymoon, and strolled through the markets for a while, picking up little things that caught his eye, including some expensive but absolutely delicious marzipan for Ed.

Who likes to pretend that he doesn’t have a massive sweet tooth, although everyone who’s ever fixed him his tea almost certainly knows otherwise.

He’d been in high spirits upon arriving back at the Revenge, excited to present the crew with the gifts he’d picked out for them. He’d run across Lucius and Black Pete first, in what had looked like a serious and not entirely pleasant conversation, huddled together in a corner away from the others.

“—just sayin’, the last time something like this happened, most of us got marooned, didn’t we? An’ you nearly drowned!”

“Trust me,” Lucius had said, brows raised, “I’m well aware.”

Black Pete had winced, chastised. He’d lifted a hand to brush his fingers over Lucius’ cheek. “I just—oh, Captain!”

The relief on his face when he’d spotted Stede had been very suspicious.

“What’s going on?” Stede had asked, even as he’d handed over two neatly wrapped parcels, one to each of them. “Has something happened?”

Lucius had merely rolled his eyes. “Everyone’s just being unnecessarily dramatic,” he’d said, with a pointed glance at Black Pete. Quieter, under his breath, he’d added, “Especially Edward,” before dragging Black Pete away by the wrist.

It had been ominous enough to have Stede worried, though. He’d been quick about distributing the remaining gifts, and had then swiftly made his way down to the Captain’s quarters. He’d found Ed sitting in the window nook, bare back to the door, and a mostly empty bottle of rum hanging loosely in his grasp.

Stede’s quiet, inquisitive, “Ed?” had startled the other man, and he’d whirled around, glassy eyes red and wide as he’d blurted out, “You’re back.”

Which leaves them where they are right now, watching each other warily and rather awkwardly from opposite sides of the room. Ed embarrassed by the unwitting admission of emotion underlying his words, and Stede reeling from the sudden knowledge that Ed had expected him to leave him behind.

Again.

After a long moment of unsure silence, Stede steps finally and fully into the room, pulling the door closed behind himself. Ed clears his throat, and turns back to looking out the window. Stede doesn’t miss the minute tremble in his hand when he goes to run it through his hair, only to snarl out a shaky, angry, “Fuck!” when his fingers get tangled in his curls.

“Ed,” Stede says again, moving slowly across the room. When he’s only a few steps behind Ed, he reaches out his own hand, hovering it over Ed’s, close but not quite touching. “May I?”

Ed swallows hard. Then he nods, just once.

Their hands brush together when Ed goes to lower his. Stede catches it, briefly, to squeeze it gently.

Then he gets to work.

Ed takes good care of his hair and still regrowing beard, usually, but Stede knows he hasn’t got the patience for knots. He’d been properly horrified, months ago now, when he’d caught Ed ripping a brush—one entirely unsuited to his type of hair, no less—through his helplessly tangled curls, and had made sure to outfit Ed with everything he could possibly need to pamper himself.

It doesn’t look like he’s kept up with it during Stede’s absence.

Ed stiffens when Stede slides onto the bench beside him, but allows himself to be moved and turned to Stede’s liking. Satisfied, Stede pushes back his sleeves, and carefully picks up the first knotted strand of hair. Ed relaxes gradually as Stede goes about his task, and the silence between them turns softer, more comfortable.

It’s maybe a quarter of an hour later, when Stede shifts to stretch his back, that his elbow bumps against the last little present still sitting in the pocket of his breeches. Ed hums, questioning, when Stede reaches around him to show off the small, parchment wrapped package.

His voice is low and raspy as he asks, “What’s this, then?”

“Go on, try it,” Stede encourages, smiling to himself when Ed eagerly tears at the parchment, “I think you’ll like it.”

Ed does, if the deep, drawn out moan that slips out of him after the first bite is any indication.

Stede ignores the blush he can feel spreading over his cheeks. “Good?”

“Good,” Ed confirms. He glances at Stede out of the corner of his eye, mouth ticked up slightly at one corner. “Thank you.”

Stede runs his fingers through Ed’s mostly detangled hair. “You are very welcome.”

Then, in a move daring enough it has his heart beat wildly in his chest, he lowers his arm so it’s loosely wrapped around Ed, an embrace in only the vaguest sense of the word. An invitation, so to speak. One which Ed accepts by leaning back, until he’s pressed firmly against Stede’s chest, eyes closed and head tipped back to lie on Stede’s shoulder.

Ed might not yet trust Stede with his heart, but he is allowing Stede this closeness, this intimacy. Emboldened, Stede rests his lips against Ed’s temple, and lets his own eyes flutter shut.

This right here? It is enough of a foundation to build upon.

It simply has to be.

[aliwritesfic]

Night Shift Part 3 (F!Reader x Frankie Morales)

Summary: Yours and Frankie’s weekends take very different turns

Word Count: 2K

Warnings: Emotionally abusive relationship, very brief mention of drug use, drinking, T*m D*vis makes an appearance

Part 1 Part 4

Frankie slept better that week than he had in months. Every night was long, uninterrupted, mercifully dreamless sleep. The diner had done exactly what he had hoped. When he awoke that Saturday afternoon, he felt better than he had in ages. He hummed while he rummaged through the refrigerator, grabbing out some leftover padthai and throwing it in the microwave.

Each night that week, a routine between you and him had formed. You’d work, barely exchanging words until the dinner rush was completed, then you’d make him a coffee and he’d make you something to eat. You’d requested something different each night, and each night you’d spoken to him a little more. Some nights you were in a better mood than others, but he quickly realised it wasn’t personal against him.

He found he was a little disappointed when he woke up that afternoon and remembered that it was his day off. If he was being honest with himself, he’d grown to enjoy your company. Something about you intrigued him, made him want to get to know you more.

Frankie spent getting stuff together for poker night with the boys. It was his turn to host, so all he had to do was make sure that his dining room table was clear and his portable speaker was charged. 

While he got ready, his mind kept wandering back to you.

He thought of the way you had a different smile for certain customers. The truly genuine one was reserved for only a select few of your favourites. He felt himself hoping that one day you’d give him one of those smiles, instead of the one that didn’t really reach your eyes and disappeared quickly. 

He thought of how when the diner was quiet, you’d lean against the counter and sip your coffee, your gaze firmly out the window. 

He thought of how when your shift ended and you checked your phone, your face would change for just a fraction of a second before you’d say goodbye and rush out the door. 

Jesus fucking Christ, he thought, do I have a crush?

Frankie hadn’t had a crush since high school, when he had finally had the guts to ask out Portia Inglewood. That relationship had lasted until he left the military, and brought all the emotional baggage with him.

A loud banging on the door knocked him out of his thoughts. 

“Cat!” Benny didn’t wait for Frankie to open the door. “We’re here, and we have beer!”

“You know where it goes,” Frankie called back. 

Santi grinned at his best friend and handed him a beer. “How’s the new job?”

“It’s exactly what I need right now,” Frankie told him. Santi nodded in understanding. They all had their own ways of dealing with what they carried. “Plus, the extra cash doesn’t hurt.”

Frankie didn’t want money - he had plenty from when he’d do private jobs with Santi. If he ever became desperate, he knew he could just join Santi on his next job. 

“Well, extra cash or not, I’ll always be the hottest person you’ve ever worked with,” Santi winked, making Frankie roll his eyes.

“Keep telling yourself that if it makes you feel better, man.” Frankie laughed. 

The night progressed in a haze of pizza and beer and poker. Will lost money to Tom, and Tom promptly lost it all to Benny. Santi told the group about the new girl he was seeing, some French expat over stateside for a few months. Benny double checked everyone was coming to the fight next weekend. Tom revealed that he and the girls were moving to Ohio to be closer to Molly’s parents. The boys promptly began planning a going away party, which would basically just be another poker night but with more beer and possibly a cake.

Any worries Frankie held seemed to melt away on nights like these. At one point, he briefly wondered what you were doing and if you were thinking of him too. Yep. Definitely a crush.

~*~

You didn’t like Kurt’s friends. Unfortunately, you were stuck spending your Saturday night with them crowded in your apartment, loud and disrespectful as hell. It didn’t matter to them that you’d asked time and time again could they please go outside to smoke, could they please put their beer bottles in the recycling bin, could they please not use your nice plates to do coke on. 

If your grandfather could have seen you now, he would’ve called you a push-over. You hated that you had become this person - afraid to stick up for yourself in your own home. Hell, you didn’t even know at what point you’d become this person. It just seemed to happen over the five years you’d been dating Kurt.

You had lost yourself in trying to be what he wanted.

With a sigh, you sealed yourself away in the bedroom with a bag of Doritos and your phone, wishing you could call your grandfather. You still had his number in your phone. Occasionally, you’d look at it, the numbers seared into your brain. 

Instead of calling the now disconnected number, you settled for messaging Sara. She was one of your only remaining friends from high school, and knew as much about your feelings as you were willing to let on. The thing was, you knew what she would say if you told her how you felt every single day. How lost, how hopeless you felt. She’d tell you to leave, forget Kurt and all the years with him, but to you it wasn’t that simple. 

Part of you still loved him, despite everything, and that part remained hopeful that you and Kurt could fix the fractures in your relationship. Plus, a voice in the back of your head told you he was right when he said he was the only one who could ever love you. 

Being alone, unloved, was one of your deepest fears.

This was one of the nights you actually missed being at the diner. You missed the lemon scented countertops, the radio that seemed to be permanently set on the oldies station, hell, you even missed Frankie and his amazing food. He’d been working with you less than a week but he had already wedged himself into your stomach. But, it was just two more nights until you were back there. It struck you that this was the opposite of how most people thought. No one you knew actually wished to go back to work. 

It was almost dawn when you were woken out of your half sleep by Kurt stumbling into the room. 

“Baby,” he slurred, crawling into bed beside you. “Baby, I love you.”

“I love you too,” you mumbled, moving over so he could fit in the bed easier. He reeked of sweat and booze. 

“I’m sorry,” he planted a sloppy kiss on your neck. “I really try to be good.”

“I know,” you ran your fingers over his head. He liked his hair cropped short, in an almost military like style. “I try too.”

“Can we go back to how we were?” Kurt continued kissing you, his hands moving drunkenly over your body. You bit back a sigh, knowing where this was heading.

You decided it would be easier to let him do what he needed, despite how badly you wanted to sleep. The only saving grace was you knew Kurt would only last a couple of minutes before it would be over. 

~*~

“So, what’s the new guy like?” Manny asked. You were seated outside, at one of his favourite cafes. The sun shone down warmly on you both, brightening your mood.

“I like him, I think,” you said. “He’s nice, quiet.”

“And pretty cute, right?” Manny wriggled his eyebrows. 

“I hadn’t noticed,” you lied. Of course you had noticed. It was impossible not to notice. 

“Don’t feed me bullshit, I can tell when you’re lying.”

“Ugh, fine. He’s good looking. But that doesn’t mean anything.”

“That’s the thing lover, it only means something if you want it to.” Manny took a conspiratorial sip of his drink. “And I didn’t get a gay vibe from him.”

“Oh good, because the only thing holding me back from jumping his bones in the kitchen is that I didn’t know his sexual preference.” You rolled your eyes, deciding to quickly change the subject. “Anyway, how’s the new job?”

“I’m loving it!” Manny lit up. “Everyone says teenagers are the worst group to teach, but it’s like they forget middle school exists.”

You smiled at Manny’s happiness. It thrilled you to see someone you considered your best friend so happy. If anyone deserves the whole world, you thought, it’s him. But he wasn’t going to let you change the subject that easily.

“You know, maybe you could invite Frankie to one of our lunches,” Manny said slyly. “It could be a night crew thing.”

“That would mean inviting the weekenders,” you reminded him. Manny held a grudge against the weekend crew, but you could never figure out why.

“No, weeknight crew only. Come on, lover, it could be fun! Plus, I want to get to know my replacement a bit better. Make sure I’m not handing the spatula to someone I don’t approve of.” Manny pouted and switched on his puppy dog eyes.

“Ugh, fine, I’ll ask,” you conceded, “but don’t be surprised if he says no. The man probably has a life.”

“It can’t hurt to ask though, and I will bother you about it until you have an answer.”

“What are you planning?” You knew that look all too well.

“Just on making a new friend,” Manny said innocently. “Lover, you can never have enough friends.”

At that moment your phone buzzed with a text from Kurt.

Where r u?????

You grimaced and sent a quick reply, hoping it wouldn’t lead to what it usually did.

At lunch with Manny from work. I’ll be home in a couple hours, do you want anything?

“Why don’t you just break up with him?” Manny asked, watching you carefully.

Is he the gay 1?

Yes, you met him and his husband last year.

“It’s complicated,” you said. You didn’t have anywhere to go. You were terrified of being alone. Part of you still felt like you could salvage what you had. The one and only time you had tried to break up with him, he had threatened to kill himself if you left. 

“You deserve better than that,” Manny said. You remained silent, not sure if he was right. “You’ve been unhappy for ages now.”

“I’m happy!” You protested.

“No you aren’t. Don’t fucking lie to me. You’re miserable with that douche bag, even James agrees.”

“I haven’t seen James in months! How the hell would he know!” You were getting defensive, but you still managed to keep your voice lowered. 

“Lover, I talk that man's ear off every chance I get. Because I love him. Because he likes to hear me talk about my day and the people important to me.”

“I’m important to you?”

Manny rolled his eyes and threw his napkin at you. “Of course you are, you’re a sister to me. Stop trying to change the subject.”

“What subject!” You scoffed.

“The subject of you for some reason wanting to stay in a relationship with a man who makes you miserable,” Manny’s voice softened and he gently held one of your hands. The gesture almost made you tear up with its gentleness. You merely shrugged.

“Like I said, it’s complicated.”

Manny nodded. “Just please think about it, for real. I couldn’t sleep at night if I never said anything to you about it.”

The walk home was slow, you took your time to sort out your scrambling thoughts. Manny had offered to drive you, but it was a nice day, and you wanted to enjoy the sunshine. You pushed the issue of Kurt to the side, knowing either way the outcome would be the same unless you magically grew a spine and a few extra zeros in your bank account.

Instead, you thought about Frankie and how best to ask him to Sunday lunch. Honestly, if there was going to be a night shift tradition, it just felt downright rude to not at least extend an invite. And if Frankie said yes, well, that was even better. It was like Manny said - an opportunity to make a new friend. Just a friend.

So why did your stomach flip at the thought?

Tagging @hnt-escape if you’d also like to be tagged just let me know <3

[apolloloki97]

"Worthy of Him" Mickey Milkovich x Ian Gallagher

Summary: When Mickey comes across a handsome stranger, he doesn't realize it's the man who cheated on Ian when Mickey was locked up. Caleb is going to have quite a surprise when he meets the love of Ian's life. ---- Or when Mickey meets Caleb.

Word Count: 3076

Warning: Swearing

Song I Wrote To: “Fuckin' Perfect" by P!nk

Note: I just love when Mickey meets Ian's exes. Also, I get really happy when Mickey defends the Gallaghers!

--------

Mickey was on his way home when he heard a string of curses that even made him stop mid-strut on the sidewalk.

At the end of the block, a handsome black man was glaring at his car, his hands on his hips as he swore. Mickey knew that look, he himself had had a similar expression on his face more than once. Weighing his options, he considered just turning the other way and going the long way home, but there was something about the man that screamed “help me” and so Mickey decided to do just that.

Besides, the poor handsome bastard clearly didn’t belong on the Southside considering how well put together he was and the decent set of wheels he was glaring at. Approaching the man, Mickey tried to gauge what was wrong with the vehicle, but it seemed as if even the owner didn’t know. “Hey man,” Mickey greeted. “Wheels busted?”

“Yeah, I don’t know what the hell is wrong with it,” the man said with a sigh as he finally turned to look at Mickey. The latter didn’t miss how the stranger did a double-take, letting his eyes scan Mickey from head to toe. Since he had come out, Mickey had been noticing male attention pointed in his direction more frequently and he couldn’t deny that it made him feel damn good about himself. Not that he would ever admit that out loud, especially to Ian.

Jealous bastard, Mickey thought to himself with a smirk that the stranger before him seemed to notice immediately. Brushing off the bedroom eyes emanating from the other man, Mickey stepped towards the car.  “Want me to take a look?” Mickey offered.

“Yeah, sure, thanks man,” the man said, gesturing for Mickey to move closer. Mickey leaned over the open hood of the car, his eyes scanning for anything outwardly wrong. As he bent over the car, the owner watched on with curiosity. “So, you a mechanic?”

“Nah,” Mickey said as he examined the battery. “My brother-in-law is. Taught me some shit,” Mickey explained. Lip had only begun to teach Mickey a bit about bikes after Mickey had helped him steal from Born Free. Mickey would never admit it to the older Gallagher brother, but he liked Lip a fair amount when he wasn’t being a total asshole. Lip was also important to Ian so Mickey made the sacrifice to “bond” with his brother-in-law whenever the occasion arose and graft theft auto just happened to be one of those occasions.

“So, you’re just in the habit of helping strangers when their car breaks down?” the man said. Mickey scoffed as he shrugged.

“Only when it breaks down on the Southside and the owner ain’t belong,” Mickey said.

“Who says I’m not Southside?” the man said playfully. Straightening up slightly, Mickey looked over at him with a knowing look.

“Trust me, I can tell,” Mickey said. Stepping back, Mickey crouched down to get a look at the grill in case anything was stuck when the bottom of his pant leg rode up slightly, exposing the holster he had strapped to his ankle along with the .22 he kept on him at all times. Iggy called it a “pussy gun”, but with being on parole, Mickey couldn’t risk always carrying his larger piece and he was still paranoid that the cartel would catch up with him eventually. The owner of the car noticed it immediately, his brows rising.

“You a cop or something?” he asked, gesturing to the exposed holster. Mickey glanced down at the hardware Carl had given him before covering it back up again. He looked up at the stranger with a raised brow.

“Not exactly,” Mickey said, disgusted to be even considered to be compared to a pig.

“Right,” the man said.

“What?” Mickey asked as he stood up, leaning against the car. “Are you a cop? Gonna fuckin’ bust me for this?” he asked.

“I fight fires, not Southside thugs,” he said with a wink and Mickey laughed quickly before turning back to his task. It didn’t take him long to notice the coolant leak in the hose.

“You’re gonna need to take this to a shop, man,” Mickey said. “You got a leak here,” he said, pointing to the hose. The man approached him, getting closer to Mickey to get a better look. Mickey rolled his eyes, knowing exactly what he was doing. He was ready to shove his wedding ring up the man’s nose when his phone rang. Knowing who it was, Mickey ignored it.

Ian had been trying to get a hold of him for an hour now. Mickey knew it was because Debbie had pissed his husband off again, but he had no interest in dealing with Ginger-Gallagher drama at the moment. Ian called again shortly after the first call, the shrill of the phone in his pocket permeating the tension that was radiating off the handsome stranger next to him.

“Wife?” the man asked, gesturing to Mickey’s pocket and the obvious ignoring of the calls. Mickey then realized that the stranger had seen the ring on his left hand and just ignored it. Bastard, Mickey thought.

“Husband,” Mickey corrected, always thrilled to do so these days. It wasn’t necessarily because he was proud to be a gay man, he was just incredibly proud to be Ian Gallagher’s husband. He’d tattoo it on his forehead if he hadn’t already gotten a dumbass tattoo for his husband back when he was first locked up in the joint.

“Ignoring him?” the man pressed and Mickey was starting to become more annoyed than flattered at the forwardness of the stranger.

“Just his family drama,” Mickey said, not sure why he was telling this man anything. Then again, bitching about the Gallaghers was something that just happened no matter who you were talking to. Mickey could remember the time before he was with Ian and he would hear everyone in the community talking about how messed up the Gallaghers were. Being a Milkovich, he never thought any other family could be more dysfunctional. When he finally fell for Ian and became more familiar with the inner workings of the Gallagher family, he finally understood the chaos that everyone else saw. However, that chaos was something that he had gone on to love greatly.

They were his family.

“Yeah, that shit’s never easy, man,” the man said.

“What shit?” Mickey asked, trying to see where the stranger was getting at.

“Just that I’ve dated the crazy ones before and the baggage of their family is never worth it. No matter how good of a fuck they are,” the man said and Mickey raised his brows.

“Classy,” Mickey said with a roll of his eyes. Clearly, the man realized he had hit a nerve and was trying to backtrack when a loud shout echoed from up the street. Mickey turned just in time to see Frank stumbling out of a bar that clearly wasn’t the Alibi as the owner yelled at him. Frank, who was already drunk enough to forget where he lived, shouted obscenities back at the bar, shoving his middle fingers to the sky before falling over. “Fucking Frank…” Mickey said, exasperated.

Even before they were married, Mickey had joined in on the “find Frank” game and had had his fill of finding the drunk passed out under bridges and in sewers to last a lifetime. While he didn’t care what happened to the deadbeat, he knew that Liam and Franny would, which is why he tended to try to keep Frank from ending up in the morgue when he could.

“Seems like everyone around here knows Frank Gallagher, huh?” the stranger said, leaning against his dormant car. His arms were crossed, accentuating the forearm muscles that were hidden under the long sleeve shirt he wore. The man laughed as he saw Frank try to get to his feet but failed. Mickey cringed as Frank stumbled again, crashing into a stack of trash cans.

“Fuck,” Mickey said, knowing he was going to have to do damage control with his niece when her grandfather came home looking like he slept in a dumpster. “That’s my fuckin’ cue,” Mickey said, pushing off the side of the car.

“You all take turns looking after the city drunk, huh?” the man asked, amused by Mickey’s distaste for the derelict.

“No,” Mickey said with a sigh, “just those of us who are unfortunately his fucking family.” This seemed to shock the stranger.

“Family?” the man echoed.

“He’s my father-in-law,” Mickey said and then paused, “sort of…” Mickey was never sure what exactly Ian saw Frank as. He knew that Frank was not his biological father, but he was also the only father Ian had ever known. Regardless, Mickey was now tied to the man forever. Just as Mickey was about to pull his phone out to call Sandy to come and help him with Frank Pick-Up, the stranger said something to make him pause.

“ You married a Gallagher ?” the man said, his voice holding a hint of disbelief.

“The fuck you gotta say it like that for?” Mickey said, ready to defend his family to the man. “Yeah, I married a goddamn Gallagher, so what?”

“Which one?” the man asked and Mickey looked at him as if he was a moron.

“What do you mean, ‘which one’? There’s only one fucking gay one,” Mickey said with a scoff.

“Ian?” the man asked. “You’re Ian’s husband?” Mickey was starting to get pissed off at this man’s tone and he was really starting to regret even offering to help him.

“I’m sorry, I think I missed a few episodes, here,” Mickey said, “Who the fuck are you and how do you know Ian?” The man hesitated for a second before answering. Mickey waited.

“I’m Caleb,” the man said. “Ian and I used to date.” Mickey didn’t need more than a second to recognize the name. Ian had told Mickey all about his rebound firefighter. Mickey knew that Ian wasn’t going to stay single while he was locked away. Mickey was just glad that Ian wasn’t screwing old men. Hell, he had even thought that the Trevor guy seemed great, but Caleb was someone that Mickey had hated the second Ian began talking about him. Then, when Lip had told him that he and Ian had witnessed Caleb cheating on Ian with some woman, Mickey hated him even more.

Lowering his head slightly, Mickey finally took a moment to size up the firefighter. Caleb was big and Mickey knew that those arms would pack a wallop if Caleb decided to start a fight, but Mickey also knew that he was craftier and if it came down to it, Ian’s ex would be on his way to the hospital very soon.

“Oh, you’re Caleb,” Mickey finally said, staring him down. “The fucker who cheated on him with some bitch and claimed it didn’t matter because she didn’t have a cock.” Caleb seemed perturbed by that but quickly composed his face despite the crassness coming from the other man.

“And you are…”

“Mickey Milkovich,” Mickey said, just daring Caleb to say something else stupid.

Which he did.

“Ah, Mickey,” Caleb said. “The abusive boy toy.” Mickey stopped for a second, wanting to punch Caleb in his perfect face.

“Abusive…” Mickey echoed, not liking the accusatory tone in Caleb’s voice.

“Ian told me all about how you used to beat on him before screwing him like he was your bitch,” Caleb said and Mickey could hear the anger in his voice. Mickey knew that Ian had been hurt after a lot of their arguments. The worse one being when Mickey had beat him up after the Terry incident. Mickey had never felt more horrible in his entire life than when he had done that. Even now, he tried to make up for it even if Ian said that he had already forgiven him. The thing was, Mickey had never forgiven himself for the beating he had given Ian in that gravel lot.

However, hearing that Ian had called him abusive, especially to someone like Caleb, just made Mickey more pissed off. Not necessarily at Ian, but more at the situation as a whole. This was who Ian felt the need to run to after their break up and regardless of how attractive the firefighter was, Caleb had no idea who he was speaking to.

“He did, did he?” Mickey said and Caleb nodded, acting as if he had Milkovich all figured out. “Right, well did he also tell you that the first time we banged, he threatened my ass and tried to beat me with a tire iron?” Mickey asked, spotting the exact tool on the ground next to the rest of the tools Caleb had hauled out. Ignoring the little voice in his head that sounded a lot like his parole officer, Mickey reached down and picked up the iron. “Sort of like this,” he said before taking a swing at Caleb’s windshield, shattering it.

“Fuck!” Caleb exclaimed. Mickey followed up by taking off one of the side mirrors before swinging the iron into Caleb’s face, causing the other man to stumble back.

“Get the fuck off the Southside or next time I’ll hit something other than your fucking car,” Mickey threatened. Caleb was wary of him but didn’t back down.

“You don’t deserve him,” Caleb said and Mickey’s eye twitched for a second before composing himself. It wasn’t news to him that people didn’t think Mickey was good enough for Ian, but he didn’t need to hear it from someone like Caleb.

“You don’t know shit about him or me,” Mickey said. “If you did then you wouldn’t fucking test me.” Caleb stared down at Mickey, but the latter wasn’t backing down. He would go back to jail before he let some asshole ex of Ian’s make him feel unworthy of the man he loved.

When Caleb went to retort, his attention was pulled by a police SUV rolling up to them and Caleb’s smashed car. Mickey didn’t move and he didn’t drop the tire iron as Caleb turned to the cop. “Officer, maybe you could arrest this man for threatening me and damaging my property,” Caleb said, glaring over at Mickey again.

“Mickey?” the cop said and Mickey finally looked over at the man in the front seat of the SUV. He recognized him immediately.

“Arthur!” Mickey greeted with a grin.

“Hey man!” Officer Arthur Tipping said, offering his fist to Mickey who happily tapped it with his own.

“You know him?” Caleb said as Mickey grinned at him.

“He’s my partner’s brother-in-law,” Tipping said with a goofy grin on his face. Mickey liked Carl’s partner because the man was the definition of a loveable idiot. Plus, he always turned the other way when a Gallagher was involved.

“Yeah, Carl’s a cop now, asshole,” Mickey said to Caleb. “Good luck filing a complaint or pressing charges, dick.” Caleb was fuming as he started towards Mickey.

“Woah there, bud,” Tipping said. “You might want to take a few steps back.” Caleb stopped and did as the officer said, but not without sending a death glare towards Mickey. “Need a ride home, Mr. Milkovich-Gallagher?” Tipping asked.

“That would be great, Arthur,” Mickey said with a grin as he tossed the tire iron aside. He looked at Caleb once more and then casually walked up to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “You come near my husband and I will make sure that nobody ever finds your body,” Mickey said sweetly before leaving Caleb on the curb and hopping into the front seat of the squad vehicle. Mickey flipped Caleb off as Tipping drove away. Caleb just swore and lashed out at his car.

Mickey relaxed in the car before sighing. “Shit, pull over here for a second man,” he said and Tipping pulled over. Mickey then got out of the car and pulled open the back door before crouching over a half-conscious Frank. “Fucking Gallaghers,” he said as he hauled his father-in-law into the back of the squad car and Tipping took him home while Frank snored in the backseat.

When Mickey finally got home and deposited Frank on the floor in the living room, he went in search of his husband. He found Ian in the kitchen, finishing up some dishes. “Hey, you,” Ian said as he spotted his husband walking into the room. Mickey smiled at him. Ian grabbed the back of his head and pressed a kiss to Mickey’s lips, savoring the taste and feel of his husband.

Mickey kissed him back, but Ian could tell it was less enthusiastic than usual. Pulling back, he furrowed his brow at the man in his arms. “What?” Mickey asked.

“You good?” Ian asked.

“Long day,” Mickey said with a dismissive wave. Ian didn’t look convinced so Mickey pulled him back to him, kissing him deeply. Ian wrapped his arms around Mickey, holding him tightly. Mickey sighed into Ian’s mouth, content to be with him after the shit he had dealt with that afternoon.

When Ian pulled back again, he leaned his forehead against Mickey’s, running his hands down his arms. Mickey looked up at him, Ian’s green eyes looking stunning in the low light of the Gallagher kitchen. Everything Caleb had said to him was coming back and he hated that he was letting it get to him. He loved Ian and he knew that Ian loved him, but there would always be that part of him that felt unworthy of Ian’s love.

Ian, being Ian, noticed the look in Mickey’s eyes. Self-doubt was not something Mickey hid very well. Reaching up to cup Mickey’s face in his palm, Ian gently rubbed his thumb along his husband’s face. “What did I ever do to deserve you?” Ian whispered.

Mickey slid his hands up to Ian’s shoulder, always loving how much taller his husband was. With a breath, Mickey inhaled the scent of his love and then smiled softly. “You just...were you,” Mickey answered simply. Ian mirrored the soft expression as he leaned into Mickey once again.

“I love you,” Ian said against Mickey’s lips.

“I love you too, Gallagher,” Mickey said before pressing his lips against Ian’s, falling into complete bliss and knowing one thing for sure: Ian and he deserved each other and nobody was going to tell him differently.

[cooloddball]

Someone submitted something in my inbox and they wanted to remain anonymous. Since this is an extremely long essay, I will put it under the cut. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK, YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!

xxx submitted: hey, i was the one who ask what do you think of Misha and Jensen's current relationship First off all thank you for your answear it means much to me cause im easy to be convice and this person who keep telling me that they are no longer friends can be so convicing, so I'm actully trying to forget what she said 😅 so I'm just writing a few. she said that since they no longer work together, they will forget about each other, and do their common things like the gay jokes, face touches ect. With other people, and neglect each other, don't talk to each other, and then meet new people who will replace the other. And and she talked about the gish thing, she said she sure they didn't talk since the end of the series, because Jensen didn't know where Misha was and Misha didn't know about the Radio Company vol 2 (but i saw people say that, they were just pretending, because Misha liked something about Radio Company Vol 2, before the gish live, so in theory he already knew then or something like that) and She said Misha wrote a poem about Darius not Jensen and now I will write down what she sent me : I saw a post about Jensen's current activities on social media, and I've come to the conclusion the only person he doesn't interact with is mish. Sadly this makes my break up theory even stronger. I feel like this is a goodbye to one of the biggest parts of my life. They've moved on from "uk what I haven't told you today? That i love u"+ from "miss my only jensen" from "i love u misha i mean it from the bottom of my heart" from "jensen has no flaws" from "misha is the funniest thing ever happened to me" from all that love and affection from everything they developed together and now they're apart leaving their lives like nothing happened and call me a dramatic but they both have the same energy now as someone has after a big break up. and Jensen comments on almost every of his friend’s post except Misha’s"+ Jenmish is genuinely the best thing that has ever happened in my entire life. I owe them literally everything. They're the reason i hold on. Unfortunately on this essay i have to start using past tense verbs for them, and i have to continue on that. I don't know for how long y'all been in spn fandom. But even if u joined one year before the show ended you'd know how close and intimate jensen and misha were. Everything about them was unmatched.+ The chemistry and how they just fit eachother. They had always been all over eachother. Like they were holding on eachother for dear life. They completed eachother and were like world's most powerful thing. They were the definition of soulmatism. No matter where, they ALWAYS kept interacting with eachother. Each possible tweet or insta post. On cons that the other wasn't there, the other one would bring up the othere's name for no absolute reason. +The looks and repeated love confessions. How invested they were both into eachother. The family they had built together cuz we know how close dee and mish are (look all the charity work they've been doing together recently). There are youtube videos to proof everything I've said so far.When i say break up, my real intention is that they've grown apart. Everything started in the the third or forth month of pandemic. Before than jensen used to interact +(comment mostly) on almost all of misha's posts. But after a while everything just stopped. At first personally didn't care that much. Bcuz I believed too much in them that I thought not even the gods above could separate them. I told myself maybe they spend long hours chatting or video calling and that's why online public interactions are gone. But as it passed it almost diminished to zero. Except some likes from jackles and eventual ones from misha there weren't anything else.+ We got absolutely no content and the show went off too. We were helpless and were sticking to everything we had Dee had a big social media shot down, so as jensen. Misha was busy with the election. We got some interviews for it with all of them. But we didn't get much.except remember both of them pulling a bff

move. and texted eachother during an online con where everyone else were dead-serious about politics? That flickered something in me. That showed me that+ they can't ever possibly let eachother go. And the times everyone else were talking and these too would just talk random things together (the one jackels had a white hat on with stacy abraham).And then Misha posted that for jensen's bday We really overlooked it. That shit was too intimate. To close. Fav march baby? U just don't go around and called ur bestie baby and when u mean it deeply. Especially not when ur friend is jensen ackles the "I suffered form internalized homophobia my whole life+ but fuck my wife's an angel and i have an angel bf too and another angel which is his wife but I'd rather die than come out cuz my asshole dad pulled a John winchester on me". It doesn't work like that. But uk how mish is. Carefree and open. I believe they got into a fight bcuz of this. He didn't even like the post. AND that was when the tiny bit of interactions we had was gone too. For a while jensen didn't even liked his posts. After a month it started again.What made me finally believe in that they had grown too+ far: I still remember the night misha posted that he and jensen were going to have a con for gish together. I remember how hard I cried. Lile the whole world was given to me. But deep down in my heart I knew that something would definitely happen. It didn't sit right with me and unfortunately my senses never lie to me. Jensen showed up at the wrong time bcuz of misunderstanding the time zones (this was HILARIOUS). That's not even my point.+ I've seen that interview 3 times so far. It always reminds me of when i saw my ex at a party and we were both so thrilled to see eachother and we still loved the other dearly, but we just couldn't work it out. Jensen and Misha's expressions were EXACTLY the same. The genuine smiles and longs pauses were they just stared at eachother. I'm so happy that it was online cuz if they actually gave that looks to eachother standing right next to the other one I would've collapsed. Misha didn't know that jensen's album+ was out. And he got so embarrassed when he found it out. He didn't know that jensen was on set and hadn't been home for 8weeks. Jensen had no idea where misha was. And this means that they hadn't talked in a long long time.When you're that close with someone for more than a decade, i mean THAT close, even if u're separated from eachother you'd at least check on the once a week, or at least once in two weeks. But it was vividly clear that they hadn't. I hate how this world works. They would always be in my heart.+ I would be thankful from them for everything. It hurts, and it won't stop and im so sure I'd be carrying this pain for a long time. They mean too much to a lot of us. Sometimes I think to myself that god i love them so much. Remember in 2019 when we used to get SO many jenmishdee interactions? That was LIT. It was THEE year for us. I hope they're doing good. I really do. I hope we don't get more proofs and I won't have to update this thread. Cuz my heart won't be taking it very+ well.Something i gotta add U may say that Jensen's busy and that's why he doesn't comment. But he comments on a lot of jared and his new costar's posts. So that's no excuse. So yeah that's it. I don't know what am I supposed to think. english isn't my native language, so sorry for the mistakes

Here is my response:

I don't know who this person who has been talking to is but I have to say they seem to be project their previous relationship experience on cockles.

I believe Jensen and Misha are okay and are together. Social media likes and comments don't mean anything. I mean it's not like Jensen or Misha used to comment on each other's posts before. Jensen didn't even wish Dee Happy Mother's Day this year, does that mean they are not together anymore? Nope. He has other best friends he has known for over 20 years like Jason Manns, Steve Carlson etc that he doesn't wish happy birthday, does that mean they are not friends anymore.

Please let's not put value on social media likes. I don't even follow my own family on sm and I don't always like or comment on my bf's or bff's posts on sm. So it doesn't mean anything.

As for the Gish Panel, I have talked about it before, the time Jensen was slotted to attend the panel, he was meant to answer fan questions. I honestly believe they decided to not do it at that time because they knew the questions would be about Destiel and not their new projects. If you watched that panel, Misha knew that Jensen's album was out as I pointed out. He was just trying to promote the album and soldier boy. He knew Jensen had also buffed out. It was all to promote Jensen. Anything else you hear is trolls and antis just being loud. Also don't forget Jensen called him "babe".

If Jensen and Misha weren't okay, he wouldn't have attended or participated all those panels Misha organized especially for Gish. Danneel also posts a lot about RA and likes Misha's posts. I am 100% Misha visited the Ackles when he went to Colorado last month.

Stop listening to trolls and/or antis or just people who are projecting and look at facts.

[sugarmaplewings-fics]

Disclosed

Pairing: Bakugou x reader x Kirishima

Warnings: Like, two sex jokes? Nothing that crazy. Once again, gay, bi and poly as fuck. Oh and language too.

Author’s note:

So uh, I guess this ends the saga of Little Secret. I’m still doing Kiribaku fics, but I guess I just had a bit of a theme going here in this trilogy. I tried to focus more on Eijirou in this one since he kind of got pushed to the side a bit in the other two stories. Little Secret had more of y/n’s omniscience, while Big Secret was more Bakugou driven (big brain hehe).

You can probably ignore the ending of this since it’s really really cheesy and it was the only thing I could think of at the time I wrote it (I think this is another one of my fics that I finished at 3 am or something).

Anyhow, I’d say this is my favorite part of the trilogy in some ways! It’s super soft and fluffy, and I really like how I wrote it out. I seriously hope you enjoy it!

I love you guys!

-Sugar

☆*･゜ﾟ･**･゜ﾟ･*☆.☆*･゜ﾟ･**･゜ﾟ･*☆

As much as Kirishima loved being a hero, honestly, he loved his days off more.

He watched from in front of the counter as you amicably bickered with Bakugou, bustling around the kitchen still in your respective pajamas.

"I'm just saying we could have something other than cinnamon rolls for breakfast," the blond man pouted, tailing you as you walked from the fridge to the oven.

"It'll be fun," you said. "Geez, we don't have to keep up with that hero diet you set up every day. It's our day off, let me have my sugar and carbs."

Bakugou began to grumble something about the amount of chemicals that were probably in the pre-made pastry dough, but you paid him no heed. The little cheerful beeping tones of the oven sounded through the room as you set the temperature.

"How long is that going to take?" Kirishima asked.

"Like half an hour," you said. "Need a snack 'til then? We need to eat these oranges before they go bad."

"Sure, I'll take one." You tossed the orange fruit to him, which he caught easily and began to peel.

"You want one, 'Tsuki?"

Bakugou grumbled a "Fine" and you handed him his, taking a third for yourself.

Normally, you may have been able to wait until the sweet pastry rolls were done, but instead you'd spent the last two hours very slowly waking up and cuddling in bed.

As per usual, Katsuki had woken up first, letting his eyes adjust to the warm tones the room had taken on with the rising of the sun. He remembered today was his day off, and a final bout of tension left his shoulders. His back had previously been pressed against Eijirou's, but now he decided to turn himself over to face him. Peeking through scarcely opened lids, Bakugou glimpsed your form on the other side of Kirishima, scarcely visible as you snuggled into his chest. Bakugou allowed himself something he only saved in silent, private moments like this: a smile. Just a small one, barely even lifting the side of his mouth. But he couldn't help it. The sight of his perfect boyfriend and girlfriend fast asleep in each others' arms brought him such an overwhelming feeling of compersion, he simply couldn't help himself.

Bakugou draped an arm over Kirishima's side, rubbing at your forearm with gentle strokes of his fingers. You hummed in your sleep, pushing yourself even closer into the red-haired man holding you. The blond breathed in Eijirou's heavy, musky scent, letting it flood his nose and instill a sense of unparalleled calm over himself.

The shifting motions on either side of him caused Eijirou to begin to blink his own eyes open, shedding the foggy haze of sleep from his mind. Dreams from his previous night's rest danced and fleeted at the edges of his memory, before they were ultimately discarded and lost to the unrelenting abyss that is abandoned remembrance. He felt warm. Warm, and comfortable, and happy, and perfect.

Eijirou noticed the steady movement of the arm placed over him, signaling that Bakugou was awake. You, on the other hand, slept on; eyes lightly closed, lips parted with breath, gently clasping the front of his shirt. Kirishima slowly pressed a kiss to your forehead, followed by another and then another.

His soft lips combined with the soothing motions of Katsuki's hand finally brought you smoothly out of your slumber, groaning a bit in your consciousness.

"You two awake yet?" Bakugou's voice sounded from over Kirishima's broad shoulders. It was a little gruffer than usual from sleep and it made you smile.

"Yeah," Kirishima answered for you, meeting your (E/C) orbs with his own.

You pulled your arm from under Bakugou's hand, moving it until your fingers were able to intertwine and lock with his over Eijirou's side. He felt safe under your loving union, tying yourselves together over him so the three of you became one unit.

That was how your morning had started. For a long time, the three of you laid there, chatting in low tones as you and Katsuki snuggled into either side of Eijirou, who later turned to lie on his back to tuck each of you under an arm. The experience was nothing other than peaceful, the three of you content to simply lay in each others' presence.

Ever since that one fateful afternoon nearly two years ago, your lives could scarcely have improved more. Inviting Bakugou into your relationship was the best decision you'd made, and now here you were. The three of you had graduated from UA and begun your lives as heroes; Eijirou still worked as an indispensable sidekick under Fatgum, while Bakugou was still in the process of getting a hero agency of his own off the ground. But today was a day you had settled on to spend completely together, and it was all going just wonderfully.

Somehow, the idea had gotten into your head that you'd make cinnamon rolls for breakfast, so once you and your boyfriends eventually crawled out of bed, you set about fulfilling the urge.

Kirishima popped another orange slice into his mouth, watching you absentmindedly as you pulled out everything you would need. Which, to say, wasn't much, seeing as you were simply baking them from a can. As you pulled out the pan and cooking spray, Eijirou's red eyes flicked over to Bakugou, who had removed the cardboard tube from the fridge again. The redhead fought back a smirk as he watched his shared boyfriend scowl at the ingredients, thinking back to his almost monthly 'your body is a temple and you should treat it as such' lectures he'd give the two of you.

You caught sight of him as well, striding towards him and plucking the container from his hands. Bakugou started grumbling again, turning and exiting the kitchen to presumably go get dressed or something.

Kirishima took the opportunity to come up behind you as you popped the cardboard cylinder open, letting the preformed dough puff up as it met the air. His arm wrapped loosely around your waist as he bent a little to place his head on your shoulder. "Need help with anything?" he asked.

"No, thanks," you said, taking the unbaked rolls and filling your pre-sprayed pan.

He hummed and straightened, moving so he could lean against the counter. He noticed your orange next to him, partially peeled and abandoned. Taking one of the remaining slices from his own, he held it out towards you. "Hey, babe."

You turned and caught sight of it, smiling as you took the little slice between your teeth. You pulled it into your mouth as he pushed from his end, and you began to chew. "Mmm, that one's good."

Eijirou grinned back in agreement and ate the last slice. He reached for your abandoned one, working his nails beneath the pliable peel. "So what made you buy cinnamon rolls? Other than the fact that they're delicious, that is."

"Cold nostalgia," you said, tweaking the dough in the filled pan so it looked right. "I saw them at the store and thought to myself, 'Hey, I remember eating those. I could totally make them myself. Tasty.' Also I thought you might like them. We can all share." You picked up the pan in one hand and carried it to the oven, checking that it was the right temperature and sliding them in.

"I'm not sure about Katsuki," Eijirou said, picking some of the white fibers off another orange slice. "He didn't seem too thrilled."

"Meh," you said, fingers tapping out twenty-seven minutes on the oven timer, bringing more happy beeps to your ears. "If he doesn't eat any of them, there's just more for us, I guess. But you know how he is. You think he'll crack in front of us or wait until we leave?"

Eijirou smiled as you walked back to him, running your hands up his sides affectionately as you grinned up at him. "I'll bet one of us will find him having one in the middle of the night," he wagered.

"You're on," you giggled, swiping another orange slice from him.

"Hey! I would have given you some if you had asked, you know."

"Oops." You slid the slice slowly into your mouth, keeping your eyes on his own. A burst of sweet citric juice filled your mouth as you bit down, and you shut your eyes for a second just to fully enjoy it.

The sensation of a finger poking at your nose caused your lids to flutter open. Your eyes crossed to look at the offending digit, rolling back up and focusing on Eijirou's face.

"Bep," he said, the note accompanying his action.

You booped his nose in unhostile revenge, beginning to giggle as a mini-war began. Eijirou used the pad of his pointer finger to jab lightly at your face, making a new sound effect with each one. You had the advantage since both of your hands were free; tapping both your index fingers on his torso, face, and shoulders.

"Boop."

"Beep."

"Bap."

Bakugou shuffled back into the kitchen and watched your cheerful assaults on one another, both his cheeks and his heart warming at the sound of your giggles. "What the hell are you two doing?"

"Being in love," Eijirou said, proceeding to poke at your cheek. "Get over here, Katsu."

Bakugou just tched and wandered over to the oven to look at the baking rolls. "Dumbasses."

"Better hurry up, 'Tsuki," you said, stepping closer to Eijirou. "Or else you're going to miss out on the kisses."

"Oooooh-," Kirishima drew out for a second before your lips met his. He reciprocated, noting how you both shared the same orange-citrus taste. Out of curiosity, he peeked his eyes open to meet Bakugou's.

The blond man scowled, finally stomping over to you. "Fine. But I'm going in the middle." He wedged himself between you two.

"Yay!" Your arms wound around his slim waist, resting just above his hips. Your lips attached themselves to the base of Bakugou's neck, while Kirishima smooched at his mouth. It was quiet and sweet for a moment, each partaking in another's lips until you were satisfied, swapping positions when necessary.

You separated from Bakugou, running your thumb over his cheekbone for a moment as you looked into his eyes. He'd gotten better about asking for and receiving affection over the years you'd been dating, but it still brought warmth crashing through your system every time.

"Eiji Baby?" you asked, keeping your eyes on Bakugou.

"Yeah?"

"How much time is left on the oven?"

Kirishima glanced up at the glowing digits. "Eighteen minutes."

You hummed. "I'll get started on the icing for my rolls."

"Our rolls," Eijirou corrected, grinning at your over-the-shoulder eye roll you gave him as you made your way to the pantry to grab some powdered sugar.

Bakugou had the same reaction as you, tsking under his breath and moving to lean against the counter next to Kirishima. His position wasn't held long however, since you soon returned with your bag of sugar and the carton of milk, shooing them away so you could use the space. You pulled down a bowl and poured in some sugar and milk, beginning to mix it into a thick liquid with a spoon.

"Need a taste tester?" Kirishima asked hopefully.

"Eiji, this is pure sugar."

He glanced back at the ingredients. "Yeah."

There was something undeniably satisfying about watching the powder mix with the milk, going from fine and crumbly and turning into a sweet liquid mixture to later be drizzled over your pastries.

Maybe it was the motions of your hand as you manipulated the spoon. Maybe it was the ambiance of the room, surrounded by the two men you loved and planned to spend the rest of your life with. Either way, the song that had quietly been thrumming at the back of your mind wandered to the front, and the next thing you knew, you were humming.

Bakugou and Kirishima looked up at the sound of your voice, small smiles spreading their lips. Eijirou recognized the tune you were quietly singing to yourself, quickly adding his voice to your own. Your cheeks heated when you met his eyes, yet you continued to hum along with him. For a moment, you were both content with hitting the notes (or at least, trying to in some people's cases) wordlessly. But then you came upon the chorus, and it was as though you simultaneously reached a shared agreement that it should be belted out properly.

"S'GONNA TAKE A LOT TO DRAG ME AWAY FROM YOUUUU! THERE'S NOTHING THAT A HUNDRED MEN OR MORE COULD EVER DO! I BLESS THE RAINS DOWN IN AFRICAAAA—"

Bakugou watched you with an expression of general disgust and confusion. This was an act, of course, for the most part. He could never quite get used to the spontaneous concerts you both would occasionally throw, singing whatever obnoxious song that came to your minds. You probably only had one brain cell between you two, and it was a tossup of who got it for the day. But there was something about it that made his heart stir and his neck prickle. Maybe it was the absolute glow about Kirishima as he threw back his head to belt out lyrics. Maybe it was the way you had taken the spoon out of the icing bowl, singing at it as if it were a microphone. Bakugou would die before he ever joined in, but he never objected to watching.

The moment the song finished, you started on another. Kirishima turned to you as a new idea struck you. You lifted your hands to a sort of air guitar, playing a bit of the intro to the song in your head before beginning to sing again:

"We're no strangers to love. You know the rules, and so do I~"

Kirishima smiled, liking the way you thought. He admired your sense of humor and how well you went along with goofing off with him. The redhead let you sing the first verse, dancing around the kitchen space from him to Bakugou, looking at each of them as you sang some of the lyrics and wiggling your eyebrows.

It wasn't long before Eijirou jumped in again, joining you as you sang to Katsuki. "Never gonna give you up, never gonna let you down, never gonna run around and, desert you~"

Eijirou took your spoon as you rocked out on your personal invisible guitar, going to town on chords that didn't exist.

Bakugou fought down the butterflies swarming in his stomach at the sight of you two having fun. You would lean against him and grin up into his face from one side, while Kirishima draped an arm over his shoulders and passionately sang into your spoon. Katsuki noticed that some of the icing had dripped down onto his hand, but the redhead seemed to not have noticed.

You paused to giggle at Kirishima, who started taking the song as seriously as he could. His eyes were squeezed shut, fist curled into a ball as he drew out some of the lyrics as though it were so much more than an old-timey memed love song. You let your voice fade as he did his own thing, only offering it as further back up vocals. Eventually, he reached the final reiteration of the chorus, and let himself riff on the final lines as a finisher. When he was done, he opened his eyes, finding that he had even kneeled down on the floor a little in his passion. He stood and grinned, and you enthusiastically applauded his performance.

"That was for you, babes!" he said, pointing at his small audience of two.

Bakugou scoffed, but you could hear how it was a little choked from how cute he had found it. The liar. Both you and Eijirou could see how his cheeks had changed a few shades darker right in front of you.

Kirishima strolled confidently back up to you, swooping each of you into an arm and kissing Katsuki full on the lips without warning. Bakugou's eyes widened at the contact, cheeks burning even more than before. Eijirou pulled back with a satisfying smack of his lips, diving in to give you the same treatment. As per usual, you were more receptive to the kiss, more than happy to throw your arms around his neck and partake in his lips.

"Enjoy the song, there?" you teased once you pulled back, tracing your fingers under his jawline.

"Hell yeah!" Eijirou flashed those perfect sharp little teeth of his in yet another heart-stopping grin. Did he have any idea what that smile did to both Bakugou and you? He had to know it turned your hearts to pure hot chocolate, right?

"Got a song rec, Bakubabe?" you asked, turning to your blond boyfriend. "You mustn't be excluded from our concert on this fine morning."

Katsuki rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Doesn't matter anyway because your shit rolls are almost done."

You glanced at the oven timer, which was, in fact, counting down the seconds until it went off. "Ha ha ha! My children!"

You slid out of Eijirou's hold to grab your oven mitt out of its drawer. The oven went off with a drawn-out beep the moment you stepped up to it, cracking the door open and taking a peek inside. A wonderful smell hit you in the face along with a gust of hot air, and the sight of six perfectly golden cinnamon rolls greeted you.

"Look at them!" you said as you pulled them out with your mitted hand. You turned off the oven and canceled the timer before walking back to the counter to let the pan cool.

"Can I ice them?" Eijirou asked, coming up behind you to get a good look.

"Not yet. They have to cool first."

"Aww, man."

You pulled out a new spoon to use for frosting, since the previous one had been breathed all over. Next you began to clear off the counter, picking up any pieces of orange peel abandoned from breakfast.

Kirishima leaned against the counter again, taking a deep breath of the cinnamon roll smell that had flooded the kitchen. "I love it when you bake, (Y/N)," he said. "It's so much fun. The kitchen smells great, everything always tastes great—"

"Always?" you asked skeptically with a smirk.

"I guess there was that one time," he admitted. "That was—that was probably not a very good idea."

"If it weren't for me," Bakugou cut in, "you would have burned the whole house down."

"An artist must experiment with her craft." You flipped your hair a bit, turning back to your kitchen maintenance. There wasn't much to do. Between both yours and Bakugou's preference for a neat house, your counters usually stayed pretty clear.

Eijirou glanced at the bowl of icing, dipping the tip of his finger into the white mixture. "You know what this looks like?"

"No," you and Bakugou said at the same time firmly, understanding what he meant immediately.

"Shot down," Eijirou said. "You're right, that wasn't that good."

You putzed for another minute, finally hovering your hand over the cooling pan. "That should be good enough."

You had Eijirou harden the tips of his fingers to hold the pan as you began moving the rolls out onto a plate. He started humming again as you drove the spatula under the baked goods.

"Seriously?" Bakugou asked, having inched closer to watch. "Again with the singing?"

"I've got a song in my manly, chivalrous heart," Kirishima said, turning to grin at him. "Can't help it. I'm in the zone."

"I'm liking this zone," you said. "It's fun."

You pushed the icing bowl to Eijirou and took out another spoon for yourself, dipping it in and allowing the sugary liquid to drizzle over the golden brown confections. Kirishima did the same on his own, still humming the tune of Be A Man from Mulan and nodding his head to the individual notes. You danced along with him, moving your hips to his favorite Disney song.

Kirishima's eyes wandered down to your swaying movements. You really did wear those shorts nicely.

You jumped at the sensation of a large hand gently grabbing at your butt. Turning, you saw Eijirou's slight smile on his lips. "Eiji?"

"What?"

"Didn't you get enough last night?"

Kirishima shrugged, finally removing his hand. "Can't a man admire his woman's perfect body?"

You rolled your eyes, tapping the sugar-coated spoon to his nose.

He blinked at the cold sticky sensation, going cross-eyed in an attempt to look at the drop of icing. "Yeah, I probably deserved that."

You smirked and rolled your eyes as you went back to icing your cinnamon rolls, watching Eijirou out of the corner of your eye. He was trying to figure out if his tongue was long enough to lick it off the tip of his nose, but so far, of course, he was having difficulties.

"Idiot," Bakugou said, taking Kirishima's chin and turning his face to his. He captured the sweet white droplet between his lips and swiped his tongue over it.

Kirishima's eyes widened at the gesture. "Katsuki?"

"What?" Bakugou shot him a teasing grin. "You had something on your face."

You chuckled at the two of them, tearing off a roll from the bunch. Eijirou noticed your action and took one for himself, cheeks a little pinker than usual. Bakugou watched as you both bit down.

Eijirou bounced a little on his toes as he chewed the sweet bread. "So good!"

You smiled and nodded in agreement. "Mhm!"

Bakugou looked from you to Kirishima, then to the plate of warm rolls.

"Sure you don't want one, Katsuki?" you asked. "They're pretty good."

The blond sighed, finally grabbing a roll for himself. "It's too late to be cooking breakfast now."

"He cracked!" you said, turning your gaze to Kirishima.

"Did not." Bakugou aggressively took a large bite out of his cinnamon roll.

"You said you weren't going to have any." You cocked your head at him, taking another bite of your own.

"Did I?" Bakugou smirked at you and licked a bit of frosting off his lip.

You thought back for a moment. Maybe he hadn't. He'd certainly acted like it though. 

"Well, do you like it?" you prodded.

"Sure." Bakugou shrugged and examined the cross-section of his roll. "Probably would have been better if you'd actually made it yourself."

You folded your arms. "Too much work. I wanted a cinnamon roll and they had them in the store. Simple as throwing them in the oven."

"But the preservatives," he argued.

"But my lacking baking skills. Besides, now I'll live forever."

"Hah? That's not how that works, dumbass."

"Well, I think they're perfect." Eijirou cut in. He put an arm around you and Katsuki and pulled you into either side of him. "You've got the spice—" he kissed Katsuki on his cheek, "—and you've got the sugar." He kissed your cheek.

"What the fuck, Shitty Hair."

"I'm not always sugar," you half-heartedly protested, snorting a little at his cheesiness and ignoring Bakugou.

Eijirou paused for a second, considering. "Yeah, okay. But . . . my metaphor."

"Your metaphor is stupid."

You swatted at Katsuki. "Oh, shut up. What are you in this situation, Eiji?"

He thought for a moment, then shrugged. "I'm not sure."

"Hmm . . . maybe you tie us together," you said, beginning to run your fingertips over his forearm. "Roll us up tight in your arms."

Both Kirishima and Bakugou blinked at you for a moment, cheeks dusted a shade darker than normal.

"So we're a cinnamon roll?" Kirishima asked.

"Ye—"

"I AM NOT A CINNAMON ROLL!" Katsuki shuffled against Eijirou's arm without really trying to get away.

"I think you are," you said. "What do you say, Eiji? He's an adorable smol bean—"

"No."

"—too precious for this world—"

"NO."

"—protecc at all costs—"

Bakugou threw the remaining third of his cinnamon roll at you, and it bounced off your head onto the floor.

"HEY—!"

He slipped out of Kirishima's arm for real this time, making an advance towards you. You ducked out of the redhead's hold too, running off to the living room.

"I PUT MY HEART AND SOUL INTO THOSE ROLLS, KATSUKI!" you called behind you.

"Sure."

"JUST ADMIT YOU'RE MY PRECIOUS BABY CINNAMON ROLL."

"Never!"

Eijirou listened to the sounds of his partners chasing each other through the house. Finishing off his morning treat, he smiled, thinking about how lucky he was to have the two of you. You no longer hid anything from each other, and everything was laid out in the open. Your futures were bright, and Kirishima knew in his heart that you'd forever be happy as long as you were together. From now on, your feelings would remain disclosed.

☆*･゜ﾟ･**･゜ﾟ･*☆.☆*･゜ﾟ･**･゜ﾟ･*☆

[Big Secret]

[Little Secret]

Taglist: @loxbbg @runrabbitrun3 @basicaegyo @iiminibattlehero @katsugay @nabo39 @pyrofanatic @sendhelpimstupid @sokkasangel @xoxopam4

[ceilingfan5]

Out of This World

congratulations to my 500 followers giveaway winner @terezis, who asked for “alien taako accidentally kidnaps kravitz”

and thanks to everyone who participated!!! 

“Where the hell are you going at this hour?” Kravitz’s roommate Sloane asks, looking up from the egregious snuggling she’s got going on with her girlfriend. On Kravitz’s couch, no less. 

“Didn’t you see that light? I have to go investigate! It could be- It could be any number of things! A meteor, a spatial anomaly, maybe even a-”

“Helicopter?” Sloane’s voice is dryer than the toast he had for dinner. Kravitz doesn’t let it dampen his mood. 

“It could be something truly mysterious, and I can’t abide letting well enough alone.”

“You never can,” she sighs. “Well, be safe out there. Don’t forget your keys.”

“Mhm,” Kravitz says, jamming his feet into mismatched shoes. “Don’t wait up for me.”

“Super won’t, so don’t die or get kidnapped or whatever.”

“I’ll be perfectly fine!” 

And Kravitz, who has no sense of predilection or self-preservation, thunders down the stairs and out into the streets with his fifty dollar flashlight and a passionately misplaced sense of adventure. 

He startles a few street cats, coos at a racoon, trips over trash, and just past the apartment complex, he spots it again. That powerful blue glow. It’s in the wrong direction for some kind of event or party--it’s closer to the farms at the edge of town than it is anything that ought to be blue in the middle of the night. And then, as Kravitz gets closer, he hears a hum, a soft, thrumming, nearly musical hum, and he sees it, he fucking sees it-

A spaceship. 

He cackles in unbridled validated glee and then slaps his hands over his mouth, dropping his fancy flashlight with all the lumens money can buy, reflecting on its way to the ground in three pairs of glowing gold eyes and a mouthful of sharp, sharp teeth. 

Something like a cross between static electricity and cement-hard water from doing a belly flop hits him, and he doesn’t see it anymore. 

  He wakes up in a space so white that it’s blue, searing his eyes with the brightness. His whole body is sore, but in a heavy way that almost feels nice. He blinks slowly, his eyelids sticking like windshield wipers on an old car during the first snow of the season, and something--someone? humanoid appears in his hazy vision. They have four arms and a long, golden brown tail, gilded with a smattering of freckles that reflect in the light like the bottom of a river untouched for centuries, and then, those six frightening, beautiful eyes, staring right into Kravitz’s soul, blinking asymmetrically, and twice. A nictitating membrane. Bafflingly cool. Kravitz tries to sit up and his head protests dramatically, and the figure swears--in English. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, what am I going to- how am I going to explain this- shit, shit, shit- Don’t do that, lay down, stupid adorable creature...” Two of those four hands gently press on his chest and he lays back down, mouth hanging open. 

“Who are you?” he asks, even though he could have opened with any number of questions, perhaps namely what do you want with me? 

“Oh, fuck, is my translator working? That’s a bonus. Oh, ancient skies, what a fucking mess...I can’t believe I- I’m going to be in so much trouble-”

“Because I saw you?”

“Well- yes, and also because I stunned you, and brought you aboard, which, believe it or not, has exacerbated- that’s a weird word, why is your language like this?--It’s made shit so much worse, because I’m dumb as hell and twice as fired. If not executed.” 

“Can I look around?”

“Babe, your listening comprehension isn’t great, is it? I’m gonna be in so much trouble for you even catching a glimpse of this- motherfucker, I should have stuck to cows, cows are classic, can’t go wrong with cows-” The alien, because, that’s- this person has to be an alien, there’s no other way, the set is too expensive and complete, the technology glittering at the edge of his vision is too complex, the makeup team would have to be intense?? The alien wrings two of their hands, and then the other two, fidgeting nervously. They pick grass off of Kravitz in a way that’s almost affectionate, and Kravitz has a hard time compiling all the facts, here.

“What’s your name?”  

“Taako,” Taako says, absolutely miserable. “But you shouldn’t know that. I should put you back--or kill you--but I don’t know if I can, I mean, look at you! Four little limbs and two little eyes! And you’re so curious and...cute.”

“You’re not so bad yourself.” Kravitz can’t help it. He’s always wanted to kiss an alien, and, presented with the road to that opportunity, he finds himself taking it with no hesitation. “What can I do to get you to not kill me today?”

“I could wipe your memory, I guess...”

"Not ideal."

"Not ideal, no, it does sort of tangle all your business up there a little." Taako frowns, which is a very strange thing to see a person with six eyes do. His lips are purple and they look...incredibly kissable, even drawn up in a frustrated little bow. Kravitz had probably better focused on not getting lobotomized, but he's as gay as he is a nerd, so he always would have been fucked in a situation like this. 

"Maybe, uh, maybe," he says, casting about for a solution, any solution. "Um, what, why are you here? What's going on with the, the cows?" 

"Well, we're studying your planet, obviously?" Taako walks away from Kravitz, pacing anxiously, and Kravitz takes the chance to sit up. It makes his mouth go dry and his head even more cottony, but he blinks blearily at Taako and smiles a little. "We're trying to learn how things work, how your society works, you know, see if you guys can handle the real shit, see if- You've got these incredible bonds, and I mean, my home sort of has those, but it's not the same, and- it would be real powerful if we could bring that kind of thing home."

"Guess you're not finding those bonds in cows, huh?" Kravitz has his out, and it's a good one. He can't stop grinning. He hopes Taako doesn't think it's a threat display. "Well, if I promise not to tell anyone about you, and you promise not to tell anyone about me, I could tell you some hot Earth facts, anything you want to know?" 

Taako bites his lip, folding both pairs of arms and pausing his pacing, and he looks at Kravitz, incredibly tempted.

"Anything?" 

"Anything. And if I don't know it, I'll look it up." Kravitz holds up his phone, and the reflection of it glints in Taako’s huge, hungry eyes. He grabs it and turns it on. 

"Oh this is good, this is very, very good. But-" 

"But you wanted to know about bonds, right?" 

"Right. And I promise I'm not trying to pry, but you keep thinking about kissing? And I want to know what that is." 

Kravitz swallow hard, knocked on his ass twofold. Taako can read his thoughts? Taako wants to kiss him???

"I can show you how, if you want," Kravitz says, embarrassed but also thrilled beyond all recognition. "Unless you think you're, you know, poisonous to me, or something-"

"It's probably fine?"

"It's probably fine!!" 

Taako walks over to him, tail flicking anxiously behind him. He's beautiful. Kravitz has finally met an alien, and he's beautiful. 

"We just- with our mouths?" 

"Exactly, just. Do what feels right." 

"Okay, I can, I can do that. And nobody is going to know, nobody will find out, it's fine-" 

Kravitz kisses him and Taako kisses back, sloppy and awkward and wonderful and Kravitz grabs the lapels of his uniform and pulls him closer and Taako makes a happy little trill and all six of his eyes flutter closed. 

They pull back to breathe, Taako panting a little, and he looks at Kravitz and nods. 

"I'm not going to kill you. Or. Scramble you, or whatever." 

"Nice," Kravitz says, grinning like an absolute idiot. "Can I tell you all the cool things I know about Earth?" 

"Maybe one more kiss. Or five. Can I have ten? Ten seems like a good number. Fuck, this is way better than cows!"

"I should hope so!" Kravitz laughs.