#emotions haven’t really fully hit me yet

[shoutsindwarvish]

my grandma died this morning

because of shavuot, shabbat, and memorial day, the funeral won’t be until wednesday

which feels like a long time?? i know they embalmed my grandpa (he wasn’t observant but it’s a jewish cemetery so in hindsight i’m surprised) so they’ll probably do the same for her

what in the world do people do who ARE observant and have holidays stacked on top of each other like this? :(

[rileys-battlecats]

wanna give a heads up, some stuff irl is going on that means i probably won’t really be up for working on any videos or answering questions for a while. just in case i disappear from online for a few weeks/months, i don’t want it to be out of nowhere

[toxycodone]

Deflowered. (Laios Touden x Reader)

content. virginity loss (laios), fluff. a metric ton of it. there's also emotional crying so. watch out.

reader's past/experiences/looks are not mentioned. I wrote this as more as an immersive means of sex with Laios, so physical and mental feelings are the main point. reader has a pussy (for the sake of writing) but this fic is still pretty gender neutral. If you are not a vagina haver/enjoyer/whatever you can gloss over it w/o much issue.

words like pretty/beautiful/etc. are used but in reference to reader AND Laios. gender equality or whatever.

author's note. This fic is one of my aforementioned stretch goals from my fundraiser for Palestine! So yay, thanks so much everyone for funding it!

word count. 6.7k+ (I went too hard on this.)

Like my writing? Toss a dono to the Palestine Children's Relief Fund and join the Fic Raffle! (I will kiss u fully on the mouth).

“Laios…are you even into sex?”

It’s a question he never really saw coming, but now, five months into your relationship, it’s hitting him like a train. You’re looking at him with genuine curiosity, no judgment. It’s simply a question.

“Well…um…”

The blonde has to take a moment to compose himself before answering the question. Despite his closeness to you, discussion of such intimate topics does still escape him.

“I can’t say I’m not interested.” He speaks, now finding his hands much more interesting to stare at than your gaze. “I’ve never really considered how to approach the topic.”

“But you’re interested?” You lean forward a bit. “Do you want to have sex with me?” Usually, you wouldn’t think to be so bold. But conversations with Laios require a certain amount of directness. You don’t want to leave anything up to interpretation.

Laios’s cheeks begin to turn pink. He looks to you now, and it’s obvious the action requires a vast amount of courage from the man.

“I do. I’m…very attracted to you.” He admits.

It’s reassuring to hear him say it out loud. It’s been a long while since you’ve been lusting after him. Spending so much time without acting on it, you weren’t sure if you could take it much longer.

“Good.” You smile to yourself, before continuing. “So…are we going to do anything about it, or…?”

The last sentence is said more in a teasing manner. You’re hoping to break the tension between you and Laios a tad. However, he doesn’t seem especially moved. His gaze leaves you once more.

“I’ve…I’ve never…” He hesitates. “You’d be my first.”

That revelation has you shocked…at least, sort of. Laios is handsome and well-built, but he’s awfully busy. You weren’t surprised to be his first steady relationship, but to be his first time…? Not even a quick romp when he was in the military? Or moving with the caravan? That’s…surprising. But not totally uninvited.

“So you’re a virgin.”

Laios looks ashamed when you say it out loud. He knows that an average man of his age should have a plethora of experience under his belt.

“It’s not that I haven’t wanted to. I’ve never really had a chance.”

Laios’s face burns. It’s embarrassing to speak the truth. You must be disappointed to be with a man like him. A man, psh, if he can even call himself such…

Before his mind can continue its self-deprecating spiral, your voice cuts through the strife.

“I’d be honored to change that, if you’d let me.”

You keep your tone and demeanor sincere. You accentuate this feeling by placing your hand on his knee, reassuringly giving it a squeeze.

Laios looks shocked. Yet…happy. He’s happy. Of course. He should’ve expected this reaction from you. Why was he nervous in the first place? You’re wonderful.

“You want to…copulate with me?”

You snicker. Leave it to Laios to make things abruptly technical. Despite his interest, he’s clearly not fully comfortable with this situation just yet.

“Yes, Laios. I do in fact want to copulate with you. Very much so.”

And many more times after that, you think. But you’d keep that to yourself for now.

“Wow.” The blush on his face deepens. Laios stares at you for a few moments, before smiling.

“Then I’d be honored to have you as well.”

So here you are. After a few days of planning (mainly to ensure Laios’s comfort and preparation), you’re laid across his bed with him at your side.

The both of you took care to really set the mood. Falin’s not home, for one (thankfully she planned on spending this evening with Marcille), and Laios’s room looks a lot more inviting with the couple of candles lit up. It’s romantic yet comfortable. The perfect scenario for what’s bound to ensue.

You gently stroke the fabric of Laios’s nightshirt as you lay beside him. The two of you have been in this scenario multiple times before—often before an intense cuddle session or the occasional make out. This time the feeling was…new, even to you. The atmosphere is tense. 

“You okay?”

Laios looks at you. His pale skin is tinged in a rose hue, despite you two not even getting started yet.

“I’m nervous.” He admits. “I mean, I’ve never done this before.”

“I know that. You don’t have to be nervous. I don’t have any expectations, so, you don’t need to worry. I just want to spend time with you.” You press a gentle kiss to his cheek. “We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want—“

“I want to!” Laios interjects. He looks almost startled as you by his own enthusiasm, then coughs awkwardly. “I want to be with you. In this way. I’ve thought about it a lot, actually.”

Now that piques your interest. He’s been thinking about you? You can work with this.

“You’ve thought about me?” Your fingers start to trail down his shirt, from his chest to his midriff. “What kind of thoughts, Laios?”

The man tenses, but quickly shakes it off. You notice his breathing pick up.

“Thoughts…of us. What this would be like…” Laios shifts a bit, his eyes follow your fingers as they dive under his shirt.

“Mhm…” You urge him to continue. “Mind if I take this off?”

Laios shakes his head. His night shirt comes off as easy as ever. You’ve seen him shirtless quite a few times, but the sight never gets old. You take a few moments to admire the pleasant softness of his upper body, before looking to him again.

“Go on.”

You work on unbuttoning your top as he speaks.

“I was wondering…” Laios’s train of thought seems to stall as you remove your shirt. His wide, golden eyes drink you in before he snaps himself back to reality. “How you’d feel. The noises you’d make,, I still can’t believe you want to do this with me.”

You roll your eyes internally. If only he could see himself through your eyes. He’d know if anything, he’s doing you an utmost favor by letting you deflower him.

“I can’t imagine who I’d rather be doing this with right now than you.” You lean to chastely kiss his cheek, before moving down his jaw. “You’re absurdly handsome.” Simply kissing his warm skin makes your stomach tie in knots. Gods, you want him inside you.

Laios’s breath hitches. A breathy moan parts the silence before he speaks again.

“You really think so?”

“I know so.”

Soft lips trail down his chest, then linger over the space near his heart. When you press your ear to his skin, you can hear the rhythmic thumps pounding against his ribcage. It makes you smile.

“You don’t have to be nervous, Lai. We can stop at any time. I won’t be mad.” You punctuate your sentence with a kiss to his heart.

Laios smiles, comforted by the gesture.

“I know. I want—well, I’ve wanted. To do this, though. For a while.”

He sits up a little to better see your face. You return his smile, then get back to work.

Laios gently starts to stroke your hair as you kiss down his body. His soft moans and whimpers fill the air. Under your lips, you can feel the skin on his stomach twitch and tense in between kisses.

You let one of your hands trail up his thigh. It doesn’t move towards his crotch just yet, instead, you settle to massage the flesh from over the soft linen of his night pants. You move towards his inner thigh teasingly slow.

The goal here is to rile him up as much as possible. Unlike other men, Laios isn’t just hard and raring to go from his thoughts alone. His own shyness and insecurities still hold him back. But, with his mind clouded with lust, Laios would be likely to let more of his inhibitions go.

After a little more teasing, you finally decide to dip your fingers under his waistband. His breath hitches when your knuckles accidentally bump his groin—even the tiniest moments have Laios reeling. You pause your movements to look up at him, doing your best to hide the smugness you feel.

“Everything alright?”

“Yeah, yeah.” He mumbles, then brushes some hair out of your face. He’s smiling and his lips part, but nothing comes out. He purses them instead as if he’s debating something.

You raise a brow, which prompts him to keep talking.

“C-can we kiss? While you do this?”

He asks this almost sheepishly, and it’s enough to make you blush as well. Why the hell does he get to be so cute?

You nod, obliging his request by moving up the bed and leaning forward to press your lips to his. You can feel his lips curl into the gesture. He’s smiling. You swear he’s the most adorable thing in this world.

The lip lock starts out sweet. The two of you take your time to set the pace, pressing loving kisses to each other, before it grows more heated as your hand gently palms his bulge through his underwear. Each movement earns a gasp or groan from the man before you. It’s not long before you feel him start to harden beneath your grasp.

You pull away for just a moment to look into his eyes. Laios’s face is much more relaxed now. He seems to be more focused on the moment.

“May I?”

Your fingers dip below the fabric of his underwear, but don’t dare go further without affirmation.

Laios nods.

“Yes, please.”

He helps you shuffle off his night pants. In respect of fairness, you place his hands on your hips so he can aid you in removing yours as well. Laios bites his lip a bit, his cheeks now fully blooming with a rosy hue. The sight of your bare ass and thighs obviously has him excited.

Next is his underwear. You’re seated in between his thighs as you remove them. It doesn’t come off as eagerly as his pants, but when you press a kiss to his hip he’s more than happy to oblige.

His semi-erect cock is quite a sight to behold,\ It’s not abnormally huge or anything, but the fact that you’re finally seeing what you’ve imagined to be pounding into you for the last few months. The fact that is a part of Laios that no one else has seen—or gets to see— but you? You can barely stop yourself from drooling. You want this thing in your hands. Mouth. Ass. Gods, everywhere it can fit. He could split you in two and you’d thank him.

You spit into your palm, then grasp it. He’s warm and weighty in your hand. You can already imagine how it’d feel cradled by your walls. Your hand slides down the length a few times—earning a choked moan from Laios. It’s pulsing with life and solid now in your grasp. His foreskin moves with each stroke of your hand as precum starts to pearl at the tip, aiding in lubrication.

“Feels better when someone else does it, yeah?” You ask with a smile.

Laios merely nods, nipping his bottom lip.

“Y-yeah.”

Another stroke has him lying his head back in the pillow, groaning. His large hands fist the sheets. You take one and lie it against the back of your head, and almost instinctively, he grips your hair. However, it’s with the same power one may use to hold a sheet of glass. Eh, you think as he settles into this, Laios will eventually get it and get more firm.

You can’t help but give him an experimental lick. Laios makes an odd whimpering noise—but it’s clear it’s in pleasure—so you continue to taste him. It doesn’t have much of a flavor. It’s mostly just like licking his skin, it’s clear he washed pretty thoroughly before. His precum starts to add a bit of a salty tinge as you continue. You make sure to lick down to his balls as well. He’s got a pretty thick covering of blonde pubic hair–but the sounds he makes and the way he curls his toes makes you less than apprehensive to keep working your mouth.

Laios’s lewd sounds fill the air as you continue. His fingers gently brush your scalp for a few strokes, before finding their way to grip you tighter. When you give him a light moan, the reverberations shoot down his cock, and he fists your hair with more passion. 

You start to grind yourself against the mattress, but when that’s not enough, you seat yourself as well as you can on his knee and find some decent friction there. Pleasant waves of arousal course through you, down to your crotch as you start to get yourself off a little. This feeling, along with the feeling of Laios down your throat, starts to put you in a bit of a trance.

A desperate noise cuts through the silence. Laios gives a half-hearted tug and grits his teeth.

“S-stop.” He chokes out, causing you to still. You remove your mouth from his length, before giving him an absentminded stroke. “Please. I don’t wanna cum. Not yet.”

You fully remove yourself from him and Laios lets out an audible sigh of relief. You laugh lightly as he begins to regain his composure. That azalea hued blush advances down to his chest now. For someone who’s faced beasts twice his size and kept going, Laios already looks utterly finished beneath you now.

“Why don’t we take a little break, yeah?”

You move up the bed and kiss him on the nose. You know you want him inside you now. But as wet as you are from just grinding against him, you know you need to be stretched open a bit beforehand if you want to take him comfortably.

“Sounds good.” Laios kisses your forehead in return, gently humming. His shaky breaths are starting to return to a normal rhythm.

Now it’s your turn. You lie with your back down on the bed, then look over to Laios.

“Wanna return the favor while you recuperate?” You ask, looking at him unexpectedly. You don’t want to intimidate him or make him feel like he has to do anything at this point. However, Laios’s eyes light up. He eagerly shuffles to be between your legs, before moving to assist you with getting comfortable propped against the pillow on his headboard.

He looks mesmerized by the sight of you through your underwear. The slick on them doesn’t give much to the imagination of what’s underneath. He can barely see the head of your clit poking through as you spread open for him. The sight and smell triggers his overeager brain to lean forward and take a good, long lick.

You jolt a bit, but moan. Laios snaps back, then looks wide eyed at you.

“Sorry! I should’ve asked first.” 

He looks sheepish, but not entirely remorseful. You’d roll your eyes, but you’re actually kinda excited. Okay, it seems his nerves are dissipating now. This is good.

“It’s okay.” You move your hand to stroke his hair affectionately. “Do what you want. You can take off my underwear, too.”

Laios’s hands are shaky, but it's clear that’s from excitement. He licks you through your underwear a couple times as an experiment, making you tense, before finally removing them. The sight of you in front of him, finally exposed, makes his jaw drop–almost comically slow. He stares at you long enough to spark confusion (maybe even some nerves yourself), before he finally speaks up.

“What…exactly do I do?”

You snort. You almost forgot he’s entirely clueless.

“Here,” You spread your lips open for him to see. “It’s not super difficult. Anywhere you lick is gonna feel good. But you should concentrate more on these spots.” One finger points to the sensitive mound at the apex of your folds. “This is the clit. It’s the most important. It…kinda feels similar to me how it did when I was sucking on you. But…don’t get too crazy. The clit’s more sensitive, so you wanna be gentle.”

“Hmmmm…” Laios nods, following along with interest. His large finger reaches out and starts to stroke it lightly. You moan in response.

“That’s good. You’re getting it. But add a bit more pressure. That feels better.” 

He obliges, and you close your eyes with a smile. The added texture of his fingerpad is what adds more pleasure. That feels good. Laios notices your reaction, then continues. As he continues to play with the nub, he pulls back the head. This seems to enlighten him.

“It has a hood!?” He asks excitedly. “Is it more sensitive underneath?”

“Super sensitive.” You agree. “Again, be careful, don’t just–”

He’s not listening. He gives a gentle lick, then a suck, which has you shuddering. You moan out his name in your own choked voice. Your hands grip his hair. It takes willpower not to shove his face into you just yet. “Gods, Laios. You’re eager.” He chuckles, then licks at you again. You grind against his face in return, which makes him moan.

“You’re getting…slicker. More moist.” He remarks, then licks up some of your wetness. “It tastes weird. But good. It’s like I don’t wanna stop. Must be pheromones or it’s similar to how–…”

“Usually people say wet, Laios. Moist is not super sexy.” You chuckle. It’s important to cut him off now. His language along with incoming tangent would probably unintentionally kill the mood. “But it’s because I’m getting more turned on. You’re making me feel turned on.”

Laios shuffles a bit. You can tell he’s getting harder.

“I like that. I like making you feel this way.” He seems to be more confident now.

“Good, you can make me feel even better with your hands, too.”

He’s curious again. You open yourself once more, then point to the lowermost hole.

“That’s the vagina. The main entrance.” He nods, and you continue. “Before we go further, you’re gonna have to stretch me out. It’ll make everything else feel better and more comfortable for me.” 

He looks up at you with a bit of a frown.

“I know what that is.” He pouts. “I’m not entirely clueless.”

Oh.

You chuckle a bit, patting his head affectionately.

“I’m sorry. I just wanted to make sure. You’re a lot smarter than most guys.”

That seems to cheer him up, so you continue. You instruct him to slide one of his digits inside you. He does so, slowly and carefully as you command. His hands are unreasonably large. One digit is actually able to make you feel something as he slides it in and out of you. There’s almost no resistance as he does so, your slick coats his fingers and seeps onto his palm as you ask him to add another. You feel yourself stretch to accommodate them and moan in pleasure. Each movement he makes is extremely purposeful. It’s not just as if he’s trying to finger you, but also get an idea of just how you feel on the inside. The pads of Laios’s fingers gently poke and prod as they continue their movements. He’s enthralled by the texture and feeling of merely his fingers inside you.

“N-now…make like, a scissoring motion.” You ask, starting to feel that typical build up at the core of your groin. Laios gasps as he starts to stretch you out, his eyes lighting up with excitement.

“The human body is amazing…” He speaks as if he’s entranced. “I wonder if I–”

His tongue moves to lick up your slit. You let out a wanton groan, then clutch his scalp. Laios takes this as a good sign and moves to lick at your clit like before. The stimulation along with him still fingering you has your breath stifling. You start to fuck yourself on his fingers and grind into his face.

“Just like that, Laios. Good boy…” You praise, not really thinking about what you’re saying. He whimpers into you, making you groan again. The little vibrations when he does that feel amazing. He continues to moan and whimper as he suckles at your clit. You can hear a swishing sound, something against the fabric of the linen sheets, and when you put two and two together you realize he’s humping the bed under him. 

Okay, as good as this feels, you need to put a stop to this. He’s gonna get carpet burn on his dick. And you’re gonna cum on his face and get too brainless to direct this virgin when he’s pounding into you. 

You pull him back by his hair, which Laios doesn’t fight against. His fingers still inside you. There’s a small trail of clear spit and slick that keeps his mouth connected to you. 

“Pull your fingers out. I wanna ride you now.”

He’s no longer hesitating. The way Laios scrambles off you and eagerly lies on his back is comical. You’re not exactly composed yourself, though. You’re just as ready to hop on and ride him until his brain goes numb.

Laios leans his back against the headboard with you seated in his lap. Your hips almost move on their own, sliding your entrance over his cock before grinding your clit against it. Just this has the two of you orchestrating a symphony of moans. The combination of slick, precum, and spit that forms between your legs and drools down your groins adds a barely audible wet sound in addition. When the cusp of your entrance catches on the head of his cock, you shudder.

You can’t wait anymore. And you’re sure Laios can’t either. You position his head at your entrance and give him a kiss.

“Are you ready?” You ask, pressing another kiss to his forehead. You want him to be sure. Not that you’d think he’d back out at this point, but you’d rather be safe than sorry.

“More than ever.” He responds breathlessly, then kisses you sweetly. You can taste yourself on his lips. “Do it, please. I want you.”

You’re sure to align him correctly, then sink down on his tip. Laios makes what might be the weirdest, yet hottest groan from deep in his throat, while his fingertips dig into your sides.

“Relax…” You whisper, ghosting kisses over his cheeks. You’re not fully composed either, but Laios is going to burst if you’re not careful. “It’s okay.”

He lets his face fall, but his shaky breathing continues as you fuck yourself on his tip, steadily opening yourself up to him. This is better than you thought. Much fucking better. Especially with Laios’s gasps and desperate whines in your ear. The heat that radiates from his body, causing the two of you to work up a light sweat. The way his muscles tense and jolt underneath your body. It’s driving you absolutely wild.

“Laios.” You moan, letting your head fall to the crook of his neck. You know this pleasure is brainbreaking for him, but it’s making you weak in the knees as well. The insides of your thighs burn with pleasure as you continue to take more of him into you. “You feel so fucking good inside me. You fit so well.”

One of his arms raises. His hand cradles your head, but his fingers grip your hair tightly.

“You’re so warm.” The last word falls out of his mouth like a boulder. He’s struggling to speak as if his mouth is filled with rocks. “So, s-so good…” He’s speaking through grit teeth, swallowing harshly like his throat’s suddenly coated with cotton. When you bottom out, resting your ass on his balls, he cries out your name. He almost comes unfurled beneath you at that moment. 

The act’s finally done. Laios Touden–No longer a virgin. He’s been deflowered by you. 

You bask in the moment. Despite your mind being clouded by pleasure, you take just a second to appreciate him. That ever growing flowery hue lights up his whole being now. Laios face, neck, chest…even parts of his arms and thighs are practically growing red. The rest of his pale skin is tinted with a hibiscus-pink color. Laios’s head is lolled back. His open mouth has a small trail of drool running from it. You lick it up happily, then meet him for a kiss.

“Look at me.”

Your command gently wakes him from his trance. Laios’s golden eyes peer at you lazily.

“You’re not a virgin anymore.” You chuckle, then kiss that broad nose bridge of his. He smiles and leans his forehead against yours.

“Thank you…” He breathes out. His eyes shine with adoration now. 

“I should be thanking you. It’s not every day one gets to take the virginity of someone as pretty as you.” 

Your compliment makes his breath stifle. You give him another loving kiss, which he eagerly returns.

You start to move now, which Laios responds to with a whimper. He tries to roll his head back again, but you wrap an arm around his shoulder and use your hand to direct his gaze where you two connect.

“Look at us.” You say between gasps. “The way we fit together. You were made for me.”

His brow furrows, but his eyes widen in awe. Laios’s hands remain perched on your hips as you ride him. He moves awkwardly to match you, but his thighs and legs betray him when jolts of gratification surge through him. He tries to cough out a response–something, anything–but can only manage a drawn, pitchy whimper. You let your eyes fall closed and set your forehead against his again.

For now, you let yourself enjoy the moment. You and Laios exchange breaths, gasps, and groans as you guide yourself up and down his length, then bottom out once more to grind your clit against his pubes and groin. Laios creates his own cacophony of odd noises that you can assume are due to pleasure, and they send swirls of delight through your brain and down your spine.

Each movement you make makes you crave more. More of him. The way he smells, sounds, feels–its all encompassing. It makes you want to consume all of him, drain him the way he’s drained your thoughts these past months. You could never imagine it’d feel this way. Laios isn’t gifted at sex by any means, but the emotional connection between you two is what heightens the physical aspect. Knowing you’re his first, how much he trusts you, desires you–it makes your mind cloudy. He belongs to you. You have him in the most intimate way possible now. An unforgettable moment for the both of you.

You clench around him and grit your teeth. It’s almost as if you’re telling him this now–he’s yours. The noise he makes when you do that is unnatural. It’s guttural–almost primal. 

“I’m gonna cum!” He chokes out, his body shaking with tension. You immediately stop your movements and relax. Not like this. Not yet, if you can help it.

“Hey, hey, settle.” You coo in his ear, now kissing whatever skin you can reach. “You don’t wanna cum just yet, right? I was hoping to give you the reins.”

Laios’s breathing is rapid, as if he just ran a mile. You coax him out of his stupor, trying to aid him in learning to contain himself. For someone with little experience, he does have a lot of willpower. With a little more time to gain his brain back, he’s able to get halfway cognizant and look at you once more. 

Your hips slide up, ever so slowly, and you let him fall out of you with a wet pop. That would’ve been embarrassing if the two of you weren’t so incredibly turned on. You hop off him now, then beckon him to climb on top of you. When he does, you anchor your thighs on his hips.

“I figured you’d wanna try your hand at this. Hold yourself up and I’ll give you a hand.” You prop yourself up a bit to look between your legs. Laios grabs his cock, and you help him guide it towards your entrance. “It’s probably gonna slip out if you’re not careful, so keep close to me.”

He nods and slides in without issue. You hum in delight at the feeling of being full again. You let Laios thrust his hips into yours a few times and his hefty balls smack lewdly against your ass as he does. He’s focused, biting his tongue a little as he tries to see which angle and speed gets a proper reaction from you. He’s cute. And the fact he’s thinking of your pleasure on an evening that’s supposed to be about him is endearing as well.

You beckon him forward, then lock your arms around his neck to bring him closer to you, the typical missionary position. Laios keeps most of his weight on his forearms as he casually pumps into you. 

“You’re doing a good job.” You gently play with his hair and look lovingly at him. Laios always fills you with the warmest, fuzziest feeling when you look into his eyes. It spills out like water when you have him like this. “You’re perfect. Everything I could want in a man.”

Laios’s brows furrow. You can’t tell if it's in concentration or what. You kiss his forehead softly as his eyes flutter closed.

“You’re everything to me.” He says in a firm voice. His pace begins to pick up, his pelvis starting to dig into yours. “You. I–, I just…can’t believe you’re here with me. You’re so beautiful...”

He’s really picking up the pace now. It makes your grip tighten on his hair. Laios is losing himself in you, and you let him. His length barely leaves you before thrusting right into you again. Sweet words and strangled noises pool in his throat and tumble out with fervor. 

“I love you.” He whines. It’s said with enough devotion to make your heart ache. “I love you…Love you…” He gasps. You feel his cock twitch inside you. He starts to drive into you like a madman now. He has little tact, but you don’t mind. It feels good nonetheless to watch him fall apart before you like this. Feel him lose his composure just from the workings of your body. Your own peak starts to approach on the horizon. 

“I wanna stay with you forever. Wanna be yours.” His balls create a slightly steady beat as they slap against your bottom. The wet, squelching sound of your hole being pounded fills your ears along with Laios’s moans.

“I love you too.” You respond, letting your fingers comb through his sweaty bangs, moving them from his face. Words come easier since you’re still more composed than he is. It’s clear Laios is exceptionally vulnerable at this moment, so you tell him things he probably needs to hear.  “You’re so easy to love, Laios. Just by being you.”

That seems to do something to him. His head falls in the crook of your neck and his arms slide under your shoulders to pull you as close as possible. His entire weight now leaning on you knocks the wind out of you a bit, but you’re able to recover quickly. All you hear is jagged breaths and strangled cries as he pumps into you wildly. A wet warmth starts to gather on your skin. You think its drool. 

A few more desperate thrusts of his hips has him coming undone completely. It’s everything but graceful as Laios reaches his peak. It’s obvious his orgasm tears through him like he’s paper. Not only does he almost completely fill you, but his sounds are grossly guttural, and the way his body tenses like stone and curls into yours before he slumps against you is testament to that. 

You roll with it, though, and simply pet his hair, whispering sweet nothings to him as you do so. He shudders against you, hiccuping softly against your skin. As you bask in the moment, you feel your combined slick start to squeeze out of you a bit. It’s still warm, but it makes you shiver. You stayed hugged against Laios for a while before he finally starts to remove himself from you. 

You’re shocked when you catch a glimpse of his face. His eyes are puffy, nose runny. There’s tear stains down his cheeks. He wasn’t drooling. He was crying.

“Hey.” You hold his jaw in your hands, frowning a bit. “You okay? What’s wrong?”

He doesn’t dare look you in the eyes. His nerves eat away as him as he sniffles. It’s a little bit of a pathetic sight.

“I-I don’t know. I just…you said all those nice things to me, and I just–” His tears start coming again, and you shoosh him. There’s a lot of hormones floating around. You’re sure that’s making him emotional, granted, on top of all his insecurities surrounding his own self-worth.

“I meant what I said. I love you, sincerely.”

Laios’s breathing starts to even out a bit, but tears still fall. He brings your palm to his mouth, gently kissing it.

“I know. But that’s what makes me feel this way even more. I just…can’t believe you’re with me at times. You’re so wonderful.” He looks at you with such adoration. It’s sickeningly sweet.

“You are too. I wish you could see yourself through my eyes. Then you could at least begin to understand how I feel about you.”  You continue to wipe his tears with your free hand. Laios shakes his head, almost in disbelief.

“I’ll never understand what makes you want to put up with me. But I'm over the moon that you choose to do so.”

“And I always will. Loving you is effortless. Stop referring to it like it’s a job. ” You casually flick his forehead to lighten the mood. Laios snaps out of his own head and returns to the moment with a soft “ow”, before beginning to laugh.

A laugh escapes you now. You sweetly kiss him on the nose.

“Now, stop crying, dummy.” You tease. “You’re gonna make me cry too,”

Laios chuckles as you wipe his tears. He grasps your wrist, then brings your hand closer for him to kiss.

“I’m the smartest man in the world if I’ve already decided I want to spend my life with you.”

So what he said earlier. He meant that. Laios sees a future with you…You start to feel a little overwhelmed by emotion now, but settle on squishing his face in your hands and pushing him away.

“Dork.” You chuckle. Laios’s laughter fills the room now. There’s so much mirth in the room, before he starts to look contemplative again.

“Wait…did you?” He raises a brow. “I couldn’t tell if you finished.”

Oh. Here comes the awkward truth. You weren’t expecting to get off and you had a lot of fun, but you’re not sure if that’s enough for him.

“I…no.” You answer honestly, but are quick to reassure. “It’s okay, though. Don’t feel pressured. You went through a lot right now, and I still had fun. I’m happy.”

He’s not.

“But I wanted you to…” He pouts. “You deserve it after what you did for me.”

You’re about to reassure him that hey, it’s fine. You could cuddle and just chill out, but you catch his curious gaze trail down to the shiny wetness of your crotch. If he’s willing…

“I mean, if you want…” You look up at him. “Only if you feel like it. I can show you how to get me off again. But in a different way this time.”

His brows raise, eyes shining with interest. He nods, now sitting up on his knees as if awaiting instruction.

You tell him to lie on his back and tell him about your plans. Facesitting is an entirely new thing to him, but he’s totally on board with the idea. He’s practically drooling as you describe it to him. The tension and eagerness builds up with a quickness. You hurry up and get your shins seated on either side of his head, ready to get this show on the road.

“This still alright with you?”

You look down at Laios. He’s staring at your wet, cum soaked pussy like it’s a gourmet meal.

“Fuck yes.”

That’s the first time he’s cursed all night. He must have a thing for oral. You’ll be sure to keep that in mind.

You lower yourself onto him, careful not to put all your weight on him just yet. Laios laps at you excitedly. He’s never been the most refined eater in the first place, and the way he sucks and licks at you is as if all manners flew out the window. Your thighs shiver as you let more weight onto his face. Holy shit. He seems to be a quick learner. That, or his enthusiasm to please shines through when it comes to oral. He’s so voracious it makes your head spin. 

You cry out expletives and start to rock against his face. Laios’s arms wrap around your waist, pulling your hips down onto him. You lean as much weight as he can take. It doesn’t seem like you phase it at all. 

With your slit flush against him, you can feel everything. His tongue dragging across your sensitive skin, diving into your hole as he lets you fuck yourself on it. Warmth builds in your core, making your jaw clench. You alternate between grinding your clit on his nose and letting him suckle at it. It’s phenomenal.

“I’m gonna…” You’re cut off by a moan. Your thighs tighten around his head. “Laios!”

He heeds your warning, now focusing on letting you ride his tongue. You grind your clit against his nose as you finally come undone, that warm familiar feeling spreading from your groin down to your thighs. Your legs clench around his head. The moan that you elicit from his lips while you do that has you shaking. 

When you’re ready, you climb off his face, flopping on the bed beside Laios. The two of you are spent. At least for right now. Laios pulls you into his arms, letting your head rest gently on his chest. As you lie there, the sound of his heartbeat lulls you to drowsiness.

“That was the best moment of my life.” He speaks up. “I just…” Laios laughs at his loss for words. He’s never been good with  them, but even finding one to describe how he feels right now seems like an impossible task. “I love you. I love you so much.” 

“Love you too.” You murmur against his skin. This was a lot, physically and emotionally. But you’re glad you did it.

“I feel like I could lie here forever.” His voice starts to taper off, as if he;s feeling wistful. 

“Mmmmm…” You mumble in agreement. Falling asleep with your face flush against Laios’s boob sounds ideal, before you’re reminded of the cool wetness between your thighs. It was sexy at first, but now it’s starting to grow uncomfortable. “I–We, gotta clean up, though. I feel gross.”

“I kinda like it.” Laios admits. “Being covered in you…us. It’s nice to see our fluids together.” His fingers brush between his own legs, gathering some slick between his fingers. “It’s kinda like slime. Man, I wish I could have those noodles again.”

You furrow your brows in disgust at first, but Laios’s words make you snicker. Of course, he somehow relates this to monsters. Then, to food.

“Well, the faster we get cleaned up, the quicker we can eat.” You begrudgingly stand on shaky legs. Laios is quick to steady you, before standing up himself.

“You’re right. I’ll pay. I owe you one after all this.” He kisses the top of your head. Laios starts to walk away towards the bathroom, but not before you land a decent smack on his ass. The man yelps, before staring at you wide eyed. The handprint that lingers due to how pale his skin is is comical.

“C’mon. You owe me a shower.” You kiss the underside of his jaw, then walk ahead of him.

Laios rolls his eyes and smiles, happily following after you.

[snapscube]

So do you have a spoiler free review of the Spider-Man 2 game, for people like me who haven’t bought/seen the game yet? (I lack money so I have to wait for Christmas lol)

I can give you my top-down thoughts yeah!

Gameplay-wise, it's a night and day improvement over the first game in basically every regard. I've heard some mixed opinions on the new gadget/abilities system, and I had my own hang-ups here and there, but once I got a feel for it and started actively looking for ways to cleverly use them and upgrade them it really clicked. The flow of combat is amazing. The swinging mechanics are a MONUMENTAL improvement over Spider-Man Remastered and Miles Morales. Those games had fantastic swinging, don't get me wrong, but they always had the issue of having a pretty intense speed cap and a disappointingly small amount of maneuvers to play with and master. This game introduces not only the web wings, which add a whole extra dimension of traversal to play with, but also still manages to improve the swinging itself more than I ever expected. Tight cornering, loop-de-loops, slingshots, and more are ALL introduced and work amazingly. And on top of it all, the speed cap for traversal is a 3X INCREASE when fully upgraded. And you feel it IMMEDIATELY, because even the baseline speed is so much faster from the jump. The game just plays beautifully in every regard, easily worth the price of entry for that alone.

Story-wise, I've mentioned I have some hangups about the pacing that I'm still working out. I just started a second story playthrough so I'm giving it time before I form any "final" thoughts, but my gut experience was that the first Act comes out the gate firing on all cylinders. The characters feel so alive, the world is breathtaking, and there's a ton of intrigue. But then once you hit Act 2 and 3 things speed up in a way that can feel a bit unnatural. One thing that helps this though is making sure to pace out your playthrough with side missions. It doesn't fix the pacing entirely, but there are so many side missions in this game that honestly feel just as integral and worth doing as the main story. I would say definitely try to do as much as you can to pace out Act 2 a little more with side content, cause much like Miles Morales this feels like the kind of game that lives and dies by its side stories. The secondary cast is incredible, and there's a ton of easter eggs and emotional beats that are integral to the overall picture of this game but just aren't in the main stuff. But the beats that hit in the main story hit REALLY HARD. The game definitely has the common sequel problem of shooting for a lot more and as a result kinda ends up a lot messier. The first game is still more of a quintessentially good Spider-Man tale than this one. But that is NOT to disparage this one at all. It is WORTH experiencing, for sure, I just think maybe it could have used some more polish. But there are a ton of moving parts, so I can totally see how they ended up with what they did.

I have a lot of other thoughts but those are sorta the big two pillars I can easily discuss without encroaching on spoiler territory and without writing basically a whole article.

[jadecantcreate]

curse of strahdanya has officially taken over my brain! alongside arcane…season two is SO GOOD SO FARR please go watch it if you haven’t. holy shit yall it does not disappoint

spoilers for up to and the entirety of episode 7 of cos — ill mainly be talking about character dynamics (mostly shepnax) but major events and plot developments will be explicitly discussed as well, so, if you’re not there yet, please don’t keep reading (getting spoilered for this stuff is not worth it i promise)

im sorry in advance. im not even done writing everything yet and its already very long

the way i see it, episode 7 is a major turning point for not only the whole story but inter-party relationships as well. i’ll be organizing this a little bit so it’s less text-wall-y (hopefully)

shepherd

there’s the raven mother they find nailed to the wall — the culprit being strahdanya. this definitely fueled the hate that all of the party had for her, but especially shepherd. he literally screams out in anguish and, later, calls strahdanya a coward and bitch — something we’ve never seen shepherd do before.* i think the events in the beginning of ep 7 is what really cemented his and the party’s objective: destroy strahdanya. before, i sensed some kind of ‘wiggle room’: the party would be willing to work with her a bit, though only for a very short amount of time and would probably backstab her. but after witnessing all that? strahdanya is irredeemably evil, not worthy of consideration / sympathy / courtesy, and i think it finally fully dawned on them all

*i also love how much raw emotion shepherd expresses throughout the campaign. the rest of the party has their moments too (i can immediately think of kana and victoria, but im not remembering any significant ones for clayton or sarnax though i know they exist), but shepherd consistently reacts to the hellhole that is barovia in such a genuine way that it grounds the whole narrative and, to me, makes barovia that much more horrifying. in other stories or discussions of stories ive seen like this (and even in the cos party itself), the characters are largely untouched by the horrors that occur in such a setting. which, fit the characters/purpose as it might, distances the audience at least a tiny bit from the happenings of the narrative. but when you have an otherwise grounded, calm, capable individual like shepherd crack? that’s when it really hits you i think. like, the whole thing with sarnax reviving the mother? shepherd being so relieved and overcome with a multitude of feelings that his voice cracks as he holds back tears, begging the mother to rest and not do any work? it made me feel the same way, and it really drove home how wonderful this act is and how dire their situation is. shepherd (and andy by extension!) have drawn the most emotion out of me in my watch, and its possibly the main reason i enjoy his character so much

him being seemingly chosen by the silver dragon (which, again, another turning point) is very compelling in a narrative sense too because shepherd doesnt want power, he doesn’t seem to even like the idea of leading (or at least being pushed into a position of leadership). i’ll touch on it later in the shepherd and sarnax segment (if i dont forget lol, my mind is running wild while i write this)

victoria

i think strahd’s infatuation with her and the physical effects it has (kana’s cleansing ritual failing because the water becomes blood as it touches victoria) is so interesting, especially her inner conflict with her heritage and wickedness (and the distrust it sows between her and the party, at least initially)

i really enjoyed how victoria was vulnerable with kana, and how kana handled it with such care and compassion. this is also a turning point, i think, when it comes their relationship: kana promises to protect victoria, and victoria promises to fight the darkness within her; they definitely got closer after that, and their bond was deepened. i dont imagine strahd would be very happy about victoria not being enamored by her and being helped by her party, though it’s very possible that she enjoys ‘the chase’ (for the lack of a better term)

when they came across the dusk elf in the order of the silver dragon estate-thing, it’s a pretty clear parallel to victoria given her appearance, heritage, and reason for being in barovia. i could be very very wrong about this but its heavily implied victoria’s elf half is a dusk elf, which makes sense considering, again, that she’s in barovia to learn about her lineage and that dusk elves are the only elves mentioned so far. i think this is the first time she’s genuinely made progress in her goal

sarnax

sarnax’s identity revolves around gherix: his whole life is devoted to the fire lord; he’s used to communing with and praying to his god. it’s likely what kept him going in such a terrible place with such terrible odds of survival, let alone returning (which he’s convinced he will not). so when strahdanya intercepted the augury spell he was so clearly shaken. it was one of the few moments, if not the only one, where sarnax was in genuine, utter panic — the whole time shepherd repeatedly asked him if he was alright and he didn’t seem to hear those words at all. suddenly he learned that strahdanya could damage or possibly sever his connection to his god, the being his life is centered around. (kana’s comment certainly didn’t help)

but what happens after — the augury spell reading ‘weal’ and sarnax being able to revive the mother — strengthens his faith. it was tested, but he prevailed. i think he was also filled with a newfound sense of purpose, knowing that, no matter what strahd does, his god considers him worthy enough

about him and kana: episode 7 is the culmination of their slow development towards not only tolerating each other’s beliefs but to understand and embrace them, specifically with kana saying that she trusts in sarnax and his god

sarnax and shepherd

the conversation between them was my favorite moment in this episode by far. there are so many layers,

shepherd so clearly doesnt want to embody his namesake and be a leader, but the silver dragon and someone he trusts so much — sarnax — and fate itself push him in that direction, so he just does. shepherd says:

“sarnax don’t”

“no why would you-“

“why- why- why would you put this on me, why?”

“how can you say that?”

“this was just a job. i mean this was just to make sure we all got here and back safely…how did this happen?”

then, later…

“alright, alright i…okay. i…dont know what to say”

“alright…alright…okay, understood”

“sure, sure. lead the way” and, after sarnax says “no, shepherd. you lead the way, i will light the path,” “…fine.”

essentially, he sucks it up. and that’s interesting to me since shepherd shows so much emotion, so it’s clearly not a ‘men dont cry’-type ideology thing. i think it’s probably related to his desire to do good, and as well as the good doc. after all, the doc gave him his virtue name: shepherd. it only makes sense that he would be written by fate as one: a person who guides the lost through the darkness. so that’s my guess as to why he so readily accepts this burden

i think sarnax being the one to say this also played a role in it^. shepherd witnessed firsthand the power of gherix and sarnax’s wisdom, so much so that he prayed to gherix. shepherd, who was originally averse to anything religious, prayed. and i also think sarnax is shepherd’s only true friend in the party. his relationship with clayton, victoria, and kana feels like professional acquaintances — they’re comfortable with each other and certainly growing closer, but he seeks out sarnax (and sarnax does too) and both have called the other a friend or good friend, on more than one occasion for shepherd and at least one for sarnax. it’s obvious that shepherd values what sarnax has to say and cares for him.

because of that, sarnax saying that he will die in barovia (specifically that he doesn’t “believe [he has] a place back in avantris” and that “whatever it is that [they] achieve here will be [his] end” because he has “seen it in the flames”) and shepherd’s reaction hits even harder for me.

shepherd says “i’m not gonna leave you. i’m not gonna leave anyone.”

and sarnax replies “then it will be i that leaves you.”

it’s the shortest exchange, but it holds so much weight. sarnax has accepted his fate, possibly long before this. but when before sarnax took charge and led the group, shining his light, he steps back, realizing shepherd is the one who (he thinks) fits that role. he still guides, but he doesn’t lead, and he believes shepherd should. but shepherd doesn’t. shepherd’s used to following orders, as we see so many times with him and clayton (but also him and sarnax), and struggles to make decisions for the group — when they ask him where they should go, shepherd seemingly blanks and he just picks whatever as fast as he can (to get the pressure off him, i assume). and despite this, shepherd’s line reinforces what sarnax thinks: a good shepherd doesn’t leave his sheep behind, he goes after and, well, shepherds them.

and honestly the whole relationship between shepherd and sarnax. them being regarded as monsters by others, being dehumanized by, for example, vascha [?] thinking shepherd is a devil and esmeralda calling sarnax shepherd’s pet ->

shepherd answers, understably upset, “he’s not my pet, he’s a person!” i figured sarnax felt the same way, but when he was praying to gherix, he referred to shepherd as “a vessel for [gherix’s] wrath.” so that raised a question to me: does sarnax truly care for shepherd (in the way shepherd does), or does he view him as a tool? it’s interesting to think about. it could be him truly caring about shepherd and seeing him as a capable person who will have a great role in his god’s plans which, i imagine, is among the highest of honors — the first possibility in the question, but filtered through the lens of sarnax’s religious perspective (which i think is the most likely and most compelling)

and there’s the parallel with them being connected to gold and silver dragons: different, but the same. (unrelated tangent but there’s also a very interesting parallel between shepherd being chosen by the silver dragon [‘good’] and victoria being chosen by strahdanya [‘bad’])

sarnax saying “silver will unite with gold” is, on the surface, about the two dragon-gods involved in the story. but i think, on a deeper and probably unintended level, it also applies to shepherd and sarnax growing closer (as they have been since the prologue, following in the footsteps of their respective dragons, and shepherd connecting the two dragons by his faith in gherix and affinity to the silver dragon.

i think that’s everything! hopefully i wont post this and immediately remember something i didn’t mention

thank you for reading all of this <33

[kirschteinoir]

[1] you're here, that's the thing.

post-timeskip osamu miya x reader.

❝just one summer. just to appease her.❞

when life in the city becomes overwhelming, your grandmother decides to sign you up for a summer in the countryside working at onigiri miya, the best onigiri place this side of hyogo! you're not the biggest fan of the early starts and long hot days at first, but your attractive new boss may change your mind...

wc; 728

chapter masterlist.

𝙋𝘼𝙍𝙏 𝙊𝙉𝙀. 𝙤𝙡𝙙 𝙖𝙥𝙧𝙞𝙡 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙚𝙨, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙡𝙖𝙨𝙩 𝙙𝙚𝙬𝙮 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙣.

“i don’t know… i just want to do something new…”

the window frame of your small tokyo apartment digs into your arms as you lean dangerously into the spring breeze that finally started to make itself known after many months of red noses and cracked fingertips. you press the phone harder against your ear with one hand in fear of accidentally dropping it whilst reaching out to grab a falling cherry blossom petal with the other. you miss it, watching as it flutters through your fingertips and you reflexively sigh, hoping your downstairs neighbour may appreciate the beauty of spring too and perhaps succeed where you failed.

“tch, are ya sighin’ at me again?” your mother scolds from the other end of the line, her kansai dialect crackling into the receivers as her emotions got the better of her. you quickly rebut, shaking your head and pointing out of the window as if she were next to you in the cramped space of your 66 x 66 square metre prison cell.

“no ma, i swear! i’ve just been in a weird mood lately,” you admit reluctantly, ashamed that you hadn’t yet found your footing in the working world of modern tokyo. you were always the kind of kid who’d tell everyone that one day you’d be the prime minister, or an astronaut, or a famous celebrity, and everyone should get your autograph right now so they would have something worth millions in the future and the bragging rights that they were your classmate at one point. but it didn’t take long for the tumultuous reality of adulthood and life beyond high school entrance exams to hit you - you were still a hard worker to your core but after completing a bachelor’s degree and being left to your own devices as a fully-fledged adult, the foundations of those wild ambitions you’d grown up clutching close to your chest were maybe not as steady as you’d thought.

“as i was saying,” your mother cut through your thoughts sharply, in that way mother’s do when you’re about to be lectured about your life decisions. “how about visiting grandma for a while? for the summer, at least.” 

before you could protest, your mother sensed your reluctance and hastily followed up.

“ya haven’t seen her in ages, when was the last time you went to hyogo? and you’ve been stuck in the city for so long, i can imagine the fresh countryside air would do ya the world of good!”

biting back your whines, you desperately try to think of an appropriate response to your determined mother. while of course you would love to see your grandmother again (she’s probably not had many visitors since your grandfather passed), some part of you rejected your humble beginnings. you’d moved away from a simple life in the countryside at a very young age thanks to your father’s new job in the glittering oasis of tokyo and only ever went back for a week or two during the school summer holidays to see your grandparents. and every summer you’d hated how the dirt never really left the underside of your fingernails or how there was nowhere to hide from the heat, your tiny electric fan about as helpful as a bucket in a flood. eventually your visits ceased altogether and subsequently so did the guilt of missing your grandparents.

“i’ll give grandma a ring as soon as we hang up. she’d love to see her only grandchild again, all grown up!”

ah.

she’d really pulled that card.

despite your initial reluctance, your mother ignores your grumblings and cheers in delight as you finally agree to spend the summer in hyogo with your grandma. just one summer. just to appease her.

it was fast approaching late afternoon by the time you bid your mother goodbye. you’d talked about so much since the initial proposal that you’d half-hoped she would forget her declaration to give her own mother a call; you’d supposed luck had never really been on your side because just as you had convinced her that yes, you had enough groceries for now and yes you were taking your vitamins regularly and definitely drinking plenty of water, she’d brought the subject up one last definitive time.

“i’ll call your grandma now and let you know what she says. bye sweetheart!”

and then the line was dead.

about me. 

ao3 link.

[cloudykaii]

sixteen percent

pairing: choi beomgyu x txt 6th member!reader

summary: you mean more than you think. you're sixteen percent of txt after all

warnings: mentions of illnesses, misogyny, heart condition.

notes: this is like a sequel to a fic that i have not yet put out! i am sorry it is short but a lot of you guys have said that you find the short, multipart aus easier to read so im trying to abide by that :,)

Beomgyu was the one who worried the most. It had only been a short period of time since you had finally been released from the hospital, and you hadn’t really been saying much. “Hey,” he said softly. He found you sititng in the windowsill. Any other time, he would have made a joke about how unfair it was that you were the only one with your own room, but he didn’t have it in him this time- not when you looked beyond sad, sitting surrounded by your pillows and stuffed animals, just watching the rain.

It wasn’t unusual for you to hang out by yourself in your room. Truth be told, the guys were worried that you didn’t like them at first. You were so nice to them whenever they did manage to have your attention, but usually they couldn’t get you to say much to them outside of practice or performing. You didn’t really seem rude to them, though. Just shy. After all, rude people don’t usually make everyone they live with cute matching friendship bracelets as a welcome gift.

They made their own rule not to push you to interact since it seemed like you were uncomfortable, but Beomgyu felt like that went out the window in this circumstance. After all, you had collapsed in an airport due to a secret illness.. was he wrong for wanting to make sure you were alright?

You didn’t really respond to his words, just letting out a hum of acknowledgement. He moved to sit beside you, knowing he had your attention. “What’s bothering you? You haven’t said much since you came home, and that was hours ago.”

“It’s weird.. now that you guys know. Other than Soobin, you guys were so nice about it. I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

He took note of the way your hands shook as they moved to pull the blanket up higher over your legs, and of how your voice wavered a little as you spoke. It took a moment of silence for him to fully understand. “You’re scared.”

“Of course, I’m scared,” you sniffed. “Soobin’s reaction was the entire reason I didn’t want anyone to tell you guys in the first place.”

He sighed. “Soobin is just scared. You have a heart condition and that is a serious thing. We’d been pushing each other beyond our abilities for a while and yeah, we did it to help each other get better, but that could mean something totally different for you.”

You sighed. He didn’t get it. It wasn’t that Soobin’s reaction had upset you because he yelled at you, or because he was angry. You had known the leader of your group long enough to know that anything he had said, no matter how aggressively- was just out of concern, and you didn’t fault him for being emotional and not sure how to use his words. “Do you know how hard I had to work to get here?” You turned to him.

“I practiced for years; do you know how many twenty-four days I did just to figure out how to hit notes? The diets, the school, learning a language, all of that? I was told there was a chance I may never debut just because they weren’t in the market for girl groups just yet. When the opportunity came and I heard they were debuting a new group, I did everything I could every single day. I took risks that gave me injuries and some of the girls even hated me for going out of my way like I did.”

You were clearly getting heated, tone rising, and the pace of your words was starting to move so fast that he was struggling to keep up. Beomgyu grabbed your hand as if to pause you. “Yeah, but Y/N,” he sighed. “Most trainees went through that.”

“No!” you exclaimed. “You didn’t! Because then I debuted, and even after that every day was like a fight I was destined to lose. I did everything I could to be talented, but then I was a small girl living in a dorm with six guys. You guys had all gotten to kind of know each other, I was the last to be added, I knew nothing.”

Beomgyu could tell from the way you kept rambling and working yourself up that what you truly needed from him right now wasn’t advice or explanations. He grabbed your hand once more when started using it to illustrate and you kept going like you didn’t even notice. “And then! Every time we perform, I hear the stylists talk about how choosing a concept is so hard for them because they can’t figure out how to do my outfit, like I’m a nuisance to the group! And don’t get me started on choreography- do you know how many times I had to stay behind while you guys went home just to tell the choreographer to stop throwing out more intricate routines just because he assumes that I can’t do them? I had to convince them I could by practically doing a little audition!

“Not to mention the social media outrage. The news was announced, and the lineup came out and I was getting called every name in the book for just performing with you guys! It seems like my very existence alone causes so many problems for the group,” your breath caught in your chest, but after rambling the things that had been on your mind for so long, you weren’t really surprised.

But he was. Even though they were still fairly new, the six of you had been performing together for about six months now. In that whole time, you had never opened up like this. They had even gotten Kai to say more about his personal feelings than they had managed to get out of you. The most you had ever said about yourself was in interviews.

You looked up at him as you tried to catch your breath and slow your heart rate. Your cheeks were flushed, embarrassed at having spilled your guts like that. “Do you feel better?”

The words threw you off. Why was he asking you that? You had basically yelled at him, and said that his struggled to get to where he was weren’t as valid as yours, so why was he smiling at you? Wasn’t he offended or something? Shouldn’t he be telling you how rude and spoiled you are right now?

But all Beomgyu did was pat your head and repeat the question. “Do you feel better?”

“It’s not that I didn’t tell you guys because I didn’t trust you or because I don’t take anything seriously,’ you tried to sum up, voice much softer now. “I just didn’t want you guys to think of me as a weaker link than I already am.”

The sound of your brathing and the rain hitting the window was all that could be heard for several moments, and your heartbeat started to pick back up until Beomgyu finally spoke again. “None of us think anything like that of you. I mean... we’ve definitely had some conversations where we thought you hated us or were scared of us because of how little you hang out with us in private… but we didn’t know you were the one who was uncomfortable. We never really pushed because we wanted to give you space, we thought you knew you were welcome.”

“I just don’t want to be a nuisance.” He shook his head to deny that before the statement had even completely been uttered. “That’s ridiculous. You’re not a nuisance. You’re singlehandedly the funniest in the group, and none of us can hit high or low notes the way you can. Yeonjun has started picking up on your slang! You’re the smartest, by far. You taught yourself three languages so fast!” It was his turn to be on a roll, but you just let yourself laugh and waved your hands to stop him.

“Okay, okay, I believe you!” You chuckled. “I guess… I just don’t always feel like I’m all that important to the group. I feel guilty sometimes you know?”

“Guilty for what?” Beomgyu scrunched his nose. “It doesn’t matter. Taehyun ordered food for everyone, and I am not going to let you sit in here all by yourself and feel upset when you can come out here with us and have a good night.”

As he dragged you out, you weren’t sure that he had truly understood what you had been telling him, but the next day you found a package in front of your bedroom door. Inside was a bracelet- it had the date you were added to the group engraved on it. Underneath the jewelry was a picture of you belting out a note onstage, it almost looked like a newspaper clipping. Then, finally, taped to the bottom of the box was a note, and scrawled in messy handwriting read: “you matter more than you think.”

You smiled as you looked through it all, pinning the picture and the note up on your vanity mirror before you heard the call. “Y/N! I made breakfast!”

“Coming!”

[emeraldsummers]

Fic: More Than An Ally?

Fandom: 9-1-1

Characters: Evan "Buck" Buckley, Hen Wilson, Chimney Han, Maddie Buckley, Christopher Diaz, Tommy Kinard

Pairing: Buck/Tommy (not the focus, it's more about Buck)

Summary:

Buck keeps referring to himself as an ally, mostly by accident, but also because he's not sure he's ready to say what he really is.

(Or, five times Buck calls himself an ally, and one time he doesn't.)

I.

Buck couldn’t stop grinning.

Eyes scanning out across the room, he took in the sight surrounding him. Maddie and Chim, giggling together like they were teenagers, Christopher looking so damn grown up in his suit, Eddie sitting beside him nearly glowing with pride, Hen and Karen’s new daughter beaming at being able to show off her family, Tommy standing beside the buffet table, fully engrossed in conversation with an old teammate, wearing the hell out of his dress uniform in a way that made Buck feel like the luckiest guy in the room.

He played with the medal hanging around his neck. A medal he had earned for saving lives, for doing the right thing, for being a hero.

Yeah, today was a good day.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hen approaching him, and he turned to greet her.

“Hey! This is great, isn’t it?”

“Hmm? Yeah, this is fun,” she seemed distracted, looking over Buck’s shoulder as she spoke. “I haven’t gotten a chance to try dessert yet, have you?”

“Yeah, the chocolate mousse is…” he trailed off. “Is everything okay?”

She shook her head at that, and when she looked back at Buck she seemed less unsettled. “Sorry, yeah, everything is good.” At the pointed look he gave her, she admitted, “I’m just trying to avoid talking to Captain Gerrard.”

“Ah,” Buck responded. That made sense.

“You meet him?”

“Briefly,” Buck said. “But mostly I’ve heard the stories.” It had only taken five seconds of listening to Gerrard talk for him to realize the stories probably got worse than the ones he had heard.

“It’s not like I’m scared of him,” she hastily clarified. “I can handle him and any guys like him. It’s just… today is a really nice day. And I don’t need to blemish today with whatever garbage comes out of his mouth.”

And Buck understood that. “Makes sense. He doesn’t deserve even a second of your time. Just stick with me, and if he comes near, we’ll make a run for it.” He gave her a small wink, causing her to laugh.

“Thanks, Buck.” And she sounded like she meant it. Seemed like Buck wasn’t the only one getting sentimental today.

“I know things haven't always been this way. I know that under Gerrard your team didn't have your back. I just want you to always know that now, everyone at this station, we’re all allies here,” he said sincerely.

Hen made a face before letting out a short laugh. “Allies, Buck? Really? You?”

And, huh. Buck hadn’t realized he had said, so he quickly corrected, “I meant I’d be your ally. Which I am.”

It sounded like a weak explanation, even to him, but Hen gave him an odd, almost knowing look before saying, “Well, I'll say the same for you. I'm your ally, and everyone else at this station? They're here for you too. They're actually allies, Buck.”

Buck laughed at that, but the emotions of the day were starting to catch up with him and her words were hitting him hard. “I know, Hen. I'm really lucky I was assigned the 118 and I'm lucky it was under Bobby.”

“We both are,” she gave him a nudge before apparently deciding to lift the mood to something lighter. “Anyways,” she said with a grin, “There's definitely one benefit to Gerrard being from the dinosaur’s club.”

At Buck’s quizzical grin, she answered “We’d definitely be able to outrun him.”

II.

The apartment fire ended up being much smaller than originally anticipated, so by the time the 118, the third station to be dispatched, had arrived on the scene, the only job left to do was check the surrounding units to ensure they were still structurally sound. Buck and Chimney were heading up to the fifth floor, enjoying the easy call with casual conversation as they climbed.

“Tommy said he’s got a surprise for our date tonight, but I bet it involves the chopper,” Buck said with a smile. “He’s been hinting at it.”

Chimney gave a quick laugh. “Can’t say I’m jealous. I prefer my dates on the ground. At home.”

“Yeah, well,” Buck said with a sly grin, “The adrenaline is like nothing else, trust me. He took me up a few weeks back, and let me just say…”

“Yeah, yeah,” Chimney cut in. “I get it. Don’t need to imagine it.”

“Fine, fine,” Buck sighed. “I’m just saying, I’m excited for this shift to be over.”

After knocking on the last few doors of the fifth floor, the building was clear and it was time to pack up and head back to the station. The lobby of the apartment building was much busier than the stairwell had been, with members of the 273 and 142 packing up their stuff and doing final check-ins with the affected residents.

“You know,” Chim said. “What you mentioned earlier doesn’t surprise me. Tommy always had a thing for flying, even back in the day. He was obsessed with Top Gun.”

Buck laughed at that. When Tommy had found out Buck hadn’t seen it, he’d made sure to watch it for their next movie night, only for them to miss most of it due to getting a bit wound up and therefore distracted. Since it was important to Tommy that Buck actually watched it, they’d tried it again for their next movie night, that time with more success.

“He’s still obsessed, trust me,” Buck replied. Then, with another, louder laugh, “I’m surprised you weren’t able to clock him earlier.” At Chim’s confused expression, Buck continued, “Obsession with Top Gun? That’s like, the gayest thing I’ve ever heard.”

He didn’t realize how loud his voice had grown until the firefighter passing by him stopped dead in his tracks, like he wasn’t sure he heard what he just heard. He was from the 142 and very young, probably still a probie based on the nervous way he was carrying himself. He looked at Buck with his mouth open like he was going to say something, before deciding not to and continuing to walk past, shaking his head.

It took Buck a second before he realized what had just happened. What the probie was probably thinking.

Shit.

“Hey!” Buck called as he followed the probie through the crowd of people. “That came out wrong! I’m not - I’m not homophobic. I’m an ally, okay? Didn’t mean anything by it. I swear!”

The probie was determinedly not turning around to hear Buck out, but Chimney was following him at his side.

“Buck,” he said carefully. Buck knew that tone, knew it meant he was missing something stupidly obvious. He looked at Chimney waiting, but Chim just looked at him incredulously. “You’re dating a man.”

And, oh. Well, duh, Buck thought.

Buck turned back to where the probie had been walking, practically yelling, “Hey! I have a boyfriend! Not homophobic!”

But the probie was gone, slipped completely out of sight, and Buck had no idea if he’d heard him or not. The rest of the 142 definitely did hear him though, based on the way they were glancing at him awkwardly.

Chim patted him on the shoulder with a sigh before walking back to their own truck, leaving Buck to mumble a quick “Just a misunderstanding” before hurrying after him.

III.

Buck was always grateful for dinners with Eddie and Christopher at the Diaz household. Tonight, Eddie was insisting on cooking, much to Christopher’s chagrin, but even though Buck loved cooking for them, he was grateful for the opportunity to sit at the table and hang out with Chris.

Technically, he was supposed to be making sure Chris got his homework done, but Buck preferred to be a bad influence and instead talk about Chris’ day.

“Today, in social studies, we were talking about different kinds of families,” Chris shared.

“Oh yeah? What’s that mean?” Hanging out with Chris, he was always amazed at how different school was now from his own childhood.

“You know, how most people have a mom and a dad. But some people have step-parents. Or guardians. Or two dads. Stuff like that.”

“Oh,” Buck replied. That definitely wasn’t talked about when he was Chris’ age.

“Some people in my class were confused,” Chris continued, “But I already knew that. It’s obvious. Denny has two moms. Harry has a mom and a dad and two step-dads. I have Dad and Carla and you.”

And it was the fact that Chris said that last part so casually, like it was the simplest, most obvious thing in the world that Buck was a part of his family that left Buck speechless.

But Chris continued like he hadn’t just made Buck’s whole year. “Some people in my class had never even heard of people that are L-G-B-T-Q-I-A.” He spelled out the acronym slowly, like he wanted to make sure he said it right.

Buck hummed, trying to think of what to say. He wasn’t sure he was prepared to explain homophobia to a 13-year old, and he wanted to be careful with his words.

But Chris ended up asking something different.

“What does the A stand for?”

Buck let out a relieved sigh. “It uh, it stands for ‘asexual’ or ‘aromantic’. It means someone who doesn’t experience any attraction, or experiences it less than non-ace people.” Buck cringed a bit at himself, fully aware his explanation was lacking, but he wasn’t sure if Chris understood the difference between romantic and sexual attraction yet. “Sometimes, in some contexts, the A stands for ‘ally’”.

“What’s an ally?” Chris asked.

“An ally is someone who… it’s like me and your dad. Someone who isn’t L, G, B, T, or Q, but supports the community and wants to fight for their rights.”

Chris made a face, turning to stare at Buck quizzically. After a beat of silence, Chris finally spoke.

“Buck. You can’t be an ally. You’re with Tommy so you’ve gotta be the G or the B or the Q, right?” And again, he was able to say it like it was the most simple, obvious fact in the world.

Buck let out a nervous laugh that quickly became a genuine one. He had honestly forgotten for a moment, but of course Chris hadn’t.

“You’re right. Your dad’s the ally. I’m… one of those”. Chris didn’t seem to notice him trailing off, and before the conversation could continue, Eddie announced that dinner was served.

“No matter what he made, Chris, make sure you tell him it’s the best dinner ever.”

Christopher groaned, and Buck made his way to the table, eager to enjoy a meal with his family.

IV.

Maddie apologized as she excused herself for Jee-Yun’s night routine, but truthfully this was one of Buck’s favorite parts of visiting his sister after work.

Getting to be there while she went through the peaceful normality of every day routine with her daughter, it filled Buck with such a distinct sense of contentment. He sat in the kitchen, idly playing with his phone, but mostly listening to the domestic sounds around him. The apartment was small enough that he could hear Jee’s shrieks and giggles from the bathtub, hear Maddie negotiating her out of the tub with the promise of her choice of book tonight, and hear Jee trying to start playtime again as Maddie dressed her for bed.

When the apartment finally got quieter, only the low hum of Maddie’s voice audible, Buck quietly stood up and walked closer to Jee’s bedroom. From the hallway near the door, Buck was able to hear Maddie reading the book, a simple story about a princess on her quest to save her kingdom. He closed his eyes, and for a moment he was taken back to his childhood bedroom, to Maddie curled up next to him reading a comedic retelling of Little Red Riding Hood, to her rolling her eyes when he begged her to do the silly voices, to her agreeing just to hear Buck laugh…

Jee-Yun was a lucky girl. She really did have the best mom.

When he could tell the story was winding to a close, he silently made his way back to his spot in the kitchen, not wanting to seem like he was intruding.

A few minutes later, he could hear Maddie making her way back. “Sorry about that,” she said softly. “Bedtime without Daddy always means it takes more time to get her settled.”

“Hey, don’t even worry about it. Wasn’t long at all.” Then after a beat, “When’s Chimney getting home anyways?”

She shrugged. “Probably late. He hasn’t seen Albert in ages, and he hasn’t had a guys night out in even longer.”

He turned to see her carrying a beer in each hand as she made her way over to the table.

“Thanks,” he said as she handed it to him.

She smiled. “I’m never going to complain about getting one-on-one time with my brother.”

Buck laughed before sipping his beer, a thought from earlier coming back to the forefront of his mind.

“Hey, that story you were telling Jee. I noticed it ended with the princess falling in love with another princess…” he trailed off, trying to sound nonchalant, like that detail hadn’t immediately stuck out at him as he was listening.

“You caught that, huh?” She gave him a pensive look before apparently deciding to let it go. “We have books where the princess falls in love with the prince, we have books where the princess falls in love with another princess. We have a book where the princess becomes the prince. We just… we want Jee to know that these are all possibilities for her. That all of these possibilities have happy endings.”

“That’s… nice.” Buck was trying to piece his words together. “It’s like, she won’t have to learn what being gay is, or that it’s okay, she’ll just always know. And if she is queer in some way, it would be way less confusing for her when she figures it out. Huh.”

“Exactly,” Maddie responded, reaching out to take his hands across the table. “Buck, I’m sorry I never gave that to you growing up. I’m sorry if it ever made you feel confused, or if you were ever scared to tell me things growing up. I should have made sure you knew I would have loved you no matter what.”

“What? Maddie -” That wasn’t what he was trying to say. “I always knew you loved me. That’s not it. Any of the confusion, it wasn’t your fault. It was a different time, books like that didn’t even exist.”

“I know, but still -”

“What I was trying to say,” he cut in, “was that it didn’t even occur to me that I should be talking to Jee about stuff like this. What if I've subconsciously been teaching her all of these outdated norms and ideas? As an ally, I should have already been thinking of this!”

“Whoa, whoa,” Maddie released his hands to hold them out in front of her for a moment, before bringing them back down onto the table. “First of all, she’s three. So no, you haven’t permanently instilled homophobia in her by accident.” Buck rolled his eyes at her oversimplification of what he was trying to say. “Secondly, ‘as an ally’? You’re still going with that?”

“I-” Buck hadn’t even realized he had said that, let alone that that would be what Maddie caught from his rambling. “I don’t know, I guess not. It doesn’t matter, does it? You knew what I meant.”

“I mean, it matters a little bit, doesn’t it?” She softened her voice. “If I’m pushing too much, just tell me and I’ll back off. But we haven’t really talked about this.”

And Buck knew that was true. He knew his declarations were about dating Tommy, knew he never really wanted to actually talk about himself, never really let anyone know how much self-discovery he was working on. “Yeah, that’s fair.”

“Because,” and she lowered her voice almost to a whisper, talking to Buck like she was scared he would bolt. “You’re bi, right? Or pan?”

“I guess,” Buck said with a breath. “Why do I have to call myself anything?”

“You don’t,” she said quickly, “I’m sorry if I pushed. Really, it's none of my business. Especially as a straight person. But calling yourself an ally probably isn’t the move, right?” She gave him the kind of knowing, sly smile that only a sibling could.

And just like that, the mood was already lightened. Buck let out a relieved laugh. “Yeah, it’s uh, becoming something of a bad habit.” He took another sip of his beer. “But thanks, by the way. No one else is going to push me, and I think I might need it.”

“Hey, it’s what allies and sisters are for.”

V.

Buck was antsy as he sat in the back of the firetruck. His shift was scheduled to be over two hours ago, but the drunk driver that caused a ten-car pileup on the highway had made sure he would be late, and Buck was eager to get back to the station so that he could head to Tommy’s.

They were supposed to be attending a comedy show for date night, but Buck had texted a couple hours ago that he was unfortunately going to be very late, and to see if they could get a refund on the tickets. Tommy texted back not to worry, he understood how these things went, and that he’d be waiting at home with a bottle of wine

God, how did Buck ever get so lucky?

Once finally back at the station, Buck didn’t even bother to shower or even change out his uniform, instead grabbing his bag from his locker and practically sprinting to his Jeep, laser-focused on the shower he would have at Tommy’s and the person who would be joining him in it.

He forced himself not to break traffic laws to get himself there faster, and when he finally knocked on Tommy’s door he was nearly breathless with excitement. As he heard the door unlock, he forced his face into a more casual expression as the door opened. That expression was promptly abandoned when he saw Tommy smiling in front of him, and he matched the smile tenfold as Tommy took his hand and welcomed him inside.

Closing the door behind him, Buck took Tommy’s face in his hands and crowded him against the wall, pressing their lips together with a soft hum. “Rushed right over,” he whispered against his mouth.

Tommy broke apart for a moment, hand reaching up to play with the collar of Buck’s uniform. “I can tell,” he said with a sly smile.

For a moment Buck stilled, once again worried he would come across as over-eager, but then Tommy kissed him deeper, his hands dipping to hold his waist tightly, and Buck was again reminded how well Tommy responded to the eagerness.

They broke apart after a moment, and Buck could see Tommy’s eyes travel from his eyes downward, landing on a spot on Buck’s shirt.

“I like the pin,” Tommy said with a small laugh.

Mind still focused on the weight of Tommy’s body against his own, it took Buck a moment to realize what Tommy was referring to.

He was staring at the small Progress Pride Flag pinned to his shirtpocket.

“Oh!” Buck laughed. “The station got these, since it’s Pride month. I know it’s a little hokey, but I wanted to make sure everyone we help knows that they’re safe with us. That they’re safe with me. That I’m an ally.”

“Evan,” Tommy deadpanned, his body stiffening.

Buck blanked for a moment before realizing what he had said. “Shit, yeah. Um, you know what I mean.”

“I mean, I do and I don’t,” Tommy responded. He didn’t sound annoyed, so at least there was that. “I didn’t realize you were still calling yourself an ally.”

Buck pulled away, suddenly feeling exposed. He turned towards the bathroom, hoping a shower would put this conversation on pause until it could be forgotten.

But no, he didn’t really want to run from this. Not with Tommy. He turned back around. “No, I don’t… not really. I know I’m not, I know I’m not straight. I know that. I don’t know why it feels so weird to say what I actually am.”

“It’s still new,” Tommy reasoned.

“Exactly! And I’ve called myself an ally for so long, in my head that’s still where I’m categorized. Even though I know… I know the definitions. I think I know which one fits, it just doesn’t feel like… mine yet.” Tommy was studying him, and suddenly Buck worried this crisis was going to put him off. Tommy had been out for years at this point. He had no problem calling himself gay and seeing himself as part of the community. Buck knew this problem was immature, a sign that he was still so new to all of this, something most people figured out in their teens or twenties.

But instead, Tommy walked closer to him and took his hands. “Whatever label you’re thinking of, it’s yours if you want it. You’re a part of this community, Evan, no one can take that away from you.” He moved one of his hands to Buck’s face, cupping his cheek. “But if the labels feel stifling, you don’t need to pick one. Lots of people don’t use them. It doesn’t matter to me, just as long as you know that this is real.”

And God, somehow Tommy always knew how to reassure him. The spiral that he had been about to send himself on started to unwind, and Buck remembered why he was so excited to get over here. He closed the distance between them, capturing Tommy in a deep kiss, and his anxieties became lost to the moment, because oh, did he know how real this was.

+1

Buck was nervous. He’d only attended Pride once before, back in 2019 when the 118 was selected to participate in the parade, and so his experience was limited to standing in the bed of the truck, wearing his uniform and a rainbow feather boa and waving at the passing crowds. Every other year, he volunteered to work so that the queer staff members could attend the festivities, like an ally should.

This year, however, he was attending for real.

As it turned out, Pride was a lot more than just the parade. There were street fairs, art markets, concerts, movie screenings, and so, so many parties. Tommy would be Buck’s guide through the crazy, and so they were enjoying the afternoon heat by walking through the block party, browsing through the many vendors.

Walking hand-in-hand with Tommy, Buck’s attention was drawn not to the vendors, but to the crowds of people around them. Buck was struck by the sheer number of vibrant personalities surrounding them, a wave of contentment washing over him. Los Angeles was a pretty liberal city, but he realized this was the first time in his life he’d seen this much open queer affection in his entire life. In the daytime, no less. It was so affirming that he almost became overwhelmed, but instead he squeezed Tommy’s hand, basking in the fact that he felt so comfortable doing that.

The next booth they approached caught Buck’s eye. It was a simple booth, stocked only with dozens of rolls of stickers. The person behind the counter, young and welcoming, smiled as they walked up.

“Hey,” they greeted. “Stickers are pay-anything, with the proceeds going towards homeless queer youth.” They gestured at the donation box on the counter.

“Sure, why not?” Tommy said, reaching into his wallet and grabbing two five dollar bills. “Pick which one you like, on me,” he winked.

Buck studied the options in front of him, realizing the booth was offering every queer-adjacent sticker that could ever exist.

There were the identity labels, ranging from ones he was familiar with to ones he would need to Google later. There were pronoun stickers. Flag stickers, many of which he didn’t recognize. Stickers announcing relationship status. Stickers with puns and references to queer media. Stickers that were downright dirty or announcing preferred sex acts. Stickers that Buck was pretty sure related to niche fetishes but was too nervous to ask about. And many more with generic Pride-related sayings and images.

Buck was pretty sure that every single person that walked up to this booth would be able to pick out at least one sticker that applied to them, if not many more.

Buck took his time looking at his options, but truthfully he knew which one had caught his eye. He’d known as soon as he saw what this booth was offering. He considered making a joke and picking the ‘Ally’ sticker, but he knew the joke would only feel funny for a moment before it felt stale and he felt uncomfortable wearing it. He considered picking a random rainbow, not technically a lie but still feeling like a cop-out, before hastily pointing to his choice before he could change his mind.

The volunteer cut the sticker and handed it to Buck, who studied it for a moment before peeling it off and sticking it onto his shirt, on the right side of his chest.

Buck took a deep breath and turned back to Tommy, eyeing the “PROUD AS FUCK” sticker newly adorning his tank top, and saw Tommy’s eyes move to read Buck’s sticker.

“I like it,” Tommy said simply.

Buck glanced down at the sticker, its pink, purple, and blue background with “BISEXUAL” written in white letters. “I like it too. Bisexual.” The word came out without hesitation, without deflecting or even stuttering on it. “Feels like me.”

And Buck took Tommy’s hand, pulled him back to continue walking down the street, and Buck kissed him right there in the crowd under the sun, truly knowing what it meant to feel free.

[quillyfied]

Real talk for a minute because I fucking need this:

I’ve been a fandom nerd since age eight. Formalized when I first got online at age thirteen. My first real fandom was Harry Potter. It was my personality. It was everything. It introduced me to the fantasy genre, which I still haven’t really left. It made me want to be a writer. It made me realize there are stories inside of me that I want to share, that I hope touch someone else as deeply as Harry Potter touched me. Brain chemistry-altering type stuff. Loving Harry Potter is the only thing that extended family members who don’t really know me anymore remember about me. An ornament gifted years ago from an aunt who died suddenly. Thousands of words of writing. Hundreds of hours talking about it with friends and family. Toys, stickers, notebooks, clothes, gifts from others and some bought with money I shouldn’t have spent but did because it made me happy. Core childhood memories with people I don’t talk to anymore but remember so fondly.

It took a long time to be okay with tucking away my Harry Potter things. I disagreed with JKR’s political stances the second I heard them, but I held out hope for longer than I should have. I went through the very real shame and guilt and agony of something so foundational to my sense of self having to become a private, nostalgic sort of sad love instead of the loud, joyous proclamation it had been for years. It took a long time to be okay with losing the connection it brought with other strangers who also loved this story like I do and the giddiness of common ground and common excitement with other human beings. I’m still not okay with how something I still have so much love for is now an indicator of a person’s moral quality. I’m not okay with how my love makes me sad and uncomfortable instead of happy.

I’m a fandom nerd. It’s my biggest hobby and my biggest escape and coping mechanism. In May 2019, the thriving and small Dice Camera Action fandom exploded and then crumbled because of the show’s players’ interpersonal dramas, which in turn exploded and then crumbled me. Fully took out a pillar of my mental health. I learned a lot about parasocial relationships and my own relationship with them, about the dangers of them despite their very normal and common advent.

July 2019, I found Good Omens.

You can infer the pattern: brain chemistry-altering love, thousands of words of fanfic, more money than I had sometimes spent on stickers and plushes and shirts. Creating my very first cosplay, hours and hours talking about it with friends, some very fulfilling new creative relationships. A story that gave me hope, that felt True in the way that all great stories feel when they hit the right emotional chords. I’ve found new stories since then, but Good Omens remains an anchor that found me during a time I desperately needed it.

July 6, 2024.

Real people are more important than fandom. Obviously. I don’t think that’s ever truly in question.

But goddammit, fandom is people, too. Fandom is community. It’s the driving dopamine-sharing communal experience that has shaped my life for twenty years now. There is something in me that pushes back against the idea that the stories that have shaped and affected me so deeply must now be cast aside because their creators are unworthy, and at the same time, I have a hard time enjoying art knowing something on this magnitude taints it. It’s almost religious, in a way; avoid the appearance of evil, cast aside the unclean thing, repent for the sin of loving something made by a bad person.

Fuck you, my love doesn’t require repentance, art and artist can have some degree of separation and what I do and enjoy is nobody’s business.

Fuck you, how dare you give even verbal support to a monster by giving their work, and by extension them, the gift of your attention.

I don’t know how I’m going to handle this one yet, because the situation is more complex than JKR’s. There is still information coming out (more victims coming forward, I think more journalistic investigations under way), and Good Omens wasn’t just NG’s work, not the book and not the show. I’m in mourning. A little stuck and paralyzed. I’m not ready to put away and privatize another love that gave me such joy to be open and proud of. I resent the feeling that I need to or I will not be a Good Person.

In the meantime the bills need paid and my antidepressants need taken.

[mya-valentine]

Between Worlds

Synopsis: After a tense encounter with Suguru Geto, Yuzuki Kiyama returns home, trying to push aside the storm of emotions swirling inside her. But as soon as she walks through the door, the sight of Gojo Satoru playing a chaotic board game with her twins brings a brief moment of peace. With the weight of Suguru's return looming over her, Yuzuki struggles to maintain normalcy for her children while Gojo, ever-watchful, senses the tension she's hiding. In a rare moment of quiet, Yuzuki is reminded that, despite the impending chaos, her world still revolves around her kids.

Yuzuki was still reeling from her confrontation with Suguru as she made her way back home. The tension in her body hadn't fully left, her mind racing with thoughts of what could happen next. But as she reached her apartment door, she inhaled deeply, letting the outside world fade, preparing herself to return to the only thing that mattered—her kids.

When she opened the door, the sound of laughter hit her ears. She peered inside, her eyes landing on a sight that made her shoulders relax just a little: Gojo Satoru, sitting cross-legged on the floor, enthusiastically playing a board game with the twins.

Akito sat quietly, his face a picture of concentration as he studied the pieces in front of him, clearly thinking through his next move. Asumi, on the other hand, wore a scowl of frustration, her arms crossed as she eyed the game board, likely losing and not taking it well.

"You're cheating!" Asumi accused, her sharp tone echoing Yuzuki's own personality. She leaned over the board, glaring at Gojo, who just chuckled in response, lifting his blindfold to give her an exaggerated wink.

"Now, now, Asumi," Gojo teased, ruffling her hair. "I’m simply playing the game at my skill level. It’s not my fault you haven’t figured out all my tricks yet."

Asumi bared her teeth, her hands curling into small fists. "You’re so annoying! I hate this game!"

Akito, much quieter and more composed, looked up from his piece with a calm sigh. "It’s just a game, Asumi. You don’t have to take it so seriously."

"Ugh, you sound just like him!" Asumi groaned, pointing dramatically at Akito before flopping back against the couch.

Gojo only grinned wider, his carefree attitude unshaken. "Well, at least someone has the Geto calmness. I like it, Akito."

Yuzuki’s heart clenched at the mention of Suguru’s name, but she kept herself steady, pushing those thoughts down. She couldn’t afford to let them slip, not now. The kids didn’t know who their father really was, and she intended to keep it that way for as long as possible.

Gojo must have sensed her presence, his head tilting in her direction. “Ah, Yuzu’s back,” he said cheerfully, pushing himself up from the floor. “Your little geniuses have been giving me a run for my money.”

Yuzuki leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, a small smile playing at her lips despite herself. “I’m sure Asumi’s been a real challenge,” she said dryly, glancing at her daughter, who was still sulking on the couch.

“Challenge? More like a mini version of you.” Gojo’s tone was light, but there was a knowing glint in his eyes, a slight edge to his words. He knew her well enough to sense that something was off. 

“I’ll bet,” Yuzuki muttered, her eyes softening as she looked at the twins. Asumi had the sharpness, the fire in her spirit that Yuzuki herself had always carried. Akito, with his quiet calm, was the exact opposite—but he still reminded her painfully of Suguru, especially now, after what had happened earlier.

Asumi shot up from the couch, storming over to Yuzuki with a determined look. “Mama, Uncle Satoru's cheating! You need to teach him a lesson!”

Yuzuki smiled down at her daughter, ruffling her hair affectionately. “I’ll think about it. But maybe you need to learn how to win even when the odds are against you.”

“Ugh, you’re both annoying!” Asumi groaned again but couldn’t hide the small smile creeping onto her face.

Akito quietly stood up and walked over to Yuzuki, his soft voice breaking through her thoughts. “Mama, did everything go okay?”

Yuzuki crouched down, wrapping an arm around Akito’s shoulders, pulling him into a gentle hug. “Yeah, everything’s fine, sweetie.”

Gojo watched the scene unfold, his grin fading slightly, replaced with a curious, almost concerned look. He knew her well enough to see there was more going on beneath the surface, but to his credit, he didn’t push. At least, not in front of the kids.

As the twins went back to their game, Gojo stepped closer to Yuzuki, leaning in slightly. “You sure you’re okay, Yuzu?” His voice was low, meant only for her to hear.

She sighed, meeting his gaze, the weight of her encounter with Suguru pressing on her chest. She didn’t want to involve Gojo—he was too protective, too explosive when it came to those he cared about. The last thing she needed was for him to find out that Suguru was alive and had been near the kids.

“I’m fine,” she lied, giving him a tight-lipped smile. “Thanks for watching them.”

“Anytime,” Gojo replied, though his expression told her he didn’t quite believe her. “You know I’m always here if you need anything. And, uh, it’s not like I have a ton of people lining up to hang out with me.”

Yuzuki raised an eyebrow. “That’s because you’re insufferable.”

Gojo gave a mock gasp, placing a hand over his chest. “Me? Insufferable? I’m delightful.”

Asumi, clearly overhearing, snorted. “Delightfully annoying.”

Gojo shot her a playful glare. “I’m surrounded by critics.”

Yuzuki smirked but quickly looked away. The lighthearted moment was a welcome distraction, but it couldn’t erase the heaviness in her chest. Suguru’s presence, the fact that he had come so close to the twins, lingered in her mind like a dark cloud.

But Gojo was still watching her, his playful demeanor masking the fact that he hadn’t missed the shift in her mood. He stepped closer, dropping his voice once more. “Yuzuki, if something’s up, you’ll tell me, right?”

Her eyes flicked to him, knowing full well that if she told him about Suguru, all hell would break loose. She shook her head slightly, keeping her voice firm. “Not now, Gojo. Not in front of them.”

He didn’t push further, but she could tell he wasn’t satisfied with that answer. His usual cocky smirk returned, though his eyes stayed sharp. “Fine, fine. I’ll let it slide. For now.”

Yuzuki rolled her eyes. “You’re so dramatic.”

“Why do you think the kids love me so much? I’m an amazing babysitter. Maybe I should quit my day job.” Gojo said, his grin wide and obnoxious as ever.

Asumi snorted, rolling her eyes. "You? A babysitter? You can barely follow the rules of this game."

Gojo feigned offense, placing a hand over his chest. "I’m following the rules exactly as I see fit, thank you very much."

Yuzuki let out a breath, the familiar banter between them easing some of her tension. For now, the twins were safe. She would make sure they stayed that way, no matter what Suguru's return meant for their future.

Yuzuki glanced at the clock, realizing it was already late. “Did you two eat yet?”

There was a brief pause before Asumi piped up, a mischievous look on her face. “Uncle Satoru gave us ice cream.”

Yuzuki’s eyes immediately flicked to Gojo, her expression sharp. “Ice cream? Seriously?”

Gojo shrugged, completely unapologetic. “It’s a perfectly balanced meal.”

Yuzuki let out a sigh, shaking her head. “You’re such a dumbass.” She stepped up to him and flicked his forehead, earning a playful wince from Gojo.

“Hey! That was uncalled for,” Gojo complained, rubbing his forehead, though the grin on his face never wavered.

Yuzuki ignored him, turning back to the twins. “Alright, what do you guys actually want to eat?”

Asumi immediately perked up. “Sushi!”

Akito, as always, took a moment to think before answering. “Steak.”

Yuzuki crossed her arms, smirking as she looked at Gojo. “You heard them. Get to it.”

Gojo’s grin faltered for a split second, and he blinked in mock confusion. “Wait, what? Why do I have to—?”

Yuzuki raised an eyebrow, her voice leaving no room for argument. “Because you’re the one who thought ice cream was dinner.”

Gojo sighed dramatically, placing a hand over his heart. “Fine, fine. Your wish is my command. Sushi and steak it is.”

He looked between the twins with an exaggerated wink. “Alright, you two. Looks like Uncle Satoru's on kitchen duty.”

Akito gave him a rare, amused smile, while Asumi just rolled her eyes. “You better not mess it up.”

“I’m a man of many talents,” Gojo replied, already making his way to the kitchen with a flourish. “Cooking happens to be one of them.”

Yuzuki watched him go, shaking her head. “He’s gonna burn something.”

Asumi leaned into her mother’s side. “If he does, you’ll fix it, right, Mama?”

Yuzuki smiled, wrapping an arm around her daughter. “Of course. But let’s see if the idiot can actually pull it off first.”

From the kitchen, Gojo’s voice rang out in playful indignation. “I heard that!”

Yuzuki smirked. “You were meant to.”

As Gojo busied himself in the kitchen, Yuzuki took a seat on the couch, pulling Akito and Asumi close to her. For a brief moment, the world felt calm, even if chaos was just outside the door. For now, she’d take this—a night with her kids, Gojo in the background, and peace, however temporary.

.

.

.

Unraveled Secrets Masterlist

[delta-lethonomia]

Hitting you as requested! For the writers goal ask game:

🦄 Is there a new POV you'd like to try writing?

👾 Do you have any "bad" writing habits you want to break?

💥Is there a chapter, scene, or WIP you're most excited to write? Share a snippet or tell us about it!

🦄: Ohh man I’m lowkey scared to write Astarion’s POV? 😅 it’s weird, I feel confident in how I’ve portrayed his emotions, I’ll defend my choices with regards to his actions in my stories, I think I’ve got a pretty decent handle on his dialogue, but actually writing his POV feels pretty difficult. He’s both emotionally intelligent and not the most introspective, which is my exact opposite in a lot of ways lol. It would be fun though! I’d just die inside if someone told me they thought my read on him was shit 😭

👾: Re 👏 pe 👏 tition!!!! I repeat words all the time!!!! Including sentence structures, one of the major edits I do all the time is going in and breaking up my massive compound sentences. It would be nice to be more conscious of that from the get go.

Other than that, I really ought to be more aware of the emotion/vibe I’m trying to convey before I write a scene. I tend to sketch the details: “they go to x, y information is revealed, Tav’s stress level increments [+1] and reminds her of z, which is building tension to c event in 3 chapters” but I tend to play the rest by ear. That works most of the time and lot of the more intimate scenes were developed organically that way, but it does happen where I write a touching scene and then realize it completely lets out the tension that I need for something later that day. That’s definitely something I could be a bit more aware of.

💥: ohoooo hohoho~ there’s a scene coming up that’s gonna suck to write but it’s gonna be sooooo good. I fully expect readers to go “oh no oh fuck nO” if I do it well, but it may also seem contrived even though it’s been set up for a long time. Other than that, I will say that Cazador gets more than one scene and we don’t kill him the first time we meet him. (I couldn’t do that to mother!!!)

There’s also gonna be a sex scene at the elfsong tavern eventually that I’m gonna use as a personal challenge to go as unhinged as possible. I have a couple of ideas but haven’t settled yet, and they’re all more depraved than the last. 🥰

[i-am-probably-alive]

Hellenite

Is there ever that one writer that you keep on going back to, over and over, even if you have read and analyzed every single one of their works? And it still gets better each time? There is for me. Fucking Helleniteeeee. I left the DSMP fandom like almost a year ago, yet I still go and have Hellenite binge reads on the regular.

Ad astra was my gateway drug, De Terra is still my favorite fic of all time like ever, possibly even better than most published books I’ve read, anything from LiTWS brings me immense comfort, and Fading Lights….that one stuck with me really really REALLY hard. So did all the other ones, but yknow. That’s a bittersweet ending done right, man. I absolutely adore everything in Hellens style of writing. From the beautiful, captivating description to the absolutely remarkable use of italics, each and every fic has left me crying and begging for more. But there’s three parts that Hellen just does so well, that it honestly shocks me that the whole first page of DSMP isn’t stuffed, head to toe, with Hellenite’s work.

1: Theme

Tackling this first, cause i have a LOT to say about this. Cause, HOLY SHIT!!! Theme! I absolutely just HDRTHHFGGJGJHAZJ. I’m not saying other writers haven’t pulled off themes in fanfic well before, cause they have! But the way Hellenite does it just hits different. Everything has a moral, in one way or another. And the moral is something genuine. Something real, something that happens in real life and that is represented perfectly in all her works. Like, okay. Event Horizon: You can change, you can improve. You are not your past, you are not your family, you are not your mistakes. As long as you’re trying, You’re on the right path. Things don’t get better immediately, they take time. A long, long time, but you are allowed to be happy along the way. Healing is a process, not a teleportation device. LiTWS: A relationship, be it romantic, platonic or familial, can be complicated. They can be difficult to maintain, but you love the other person, so you will work at it to solve your issues. It’s okay to fight, as long as you can acknowledge when you screw up. Communicate. Fading Lights: Life is difficult, but that doesn’t mean you should try and escape it. Find the right people who care about you, even if at the moment you feel or are complete shit. You can recover.

everything just leaves a special impact, because those messages come through. And they come through strong, without being all “LOOK AT ME IM HERE”. It’s just. Wow.

2: Character Development

Change is a very prominent feature in Hellens stories, and it never feels clunky or out of place. You genuinely feel it, but you can’t pinpoint the exact moment things change. Like how in the beginning of Ad Astra, we feel genuine dislike, and very quickly, hatred for Ran. But over time, that changes, and we see how Ran develops and improves. There’s setbacks, there’s relapses, but the change is there. In LiTWS, the relationship goes from somewhat forced, to fully, truly, genuine. Struggles and all. In FL, Tubbo….well. In the beginning, he was an addict who had a gruffish attitude, who was pushing away from society and his friends. He feared that he was turning into his father. He had awful self esteem. By the end, he was willing to change. He was willing to give up smoking and drinking and willing to put himself in an environment that involved Tommy. Change, change, change.

I think it’s all really well done. Cause people change, it’s natural. And it’s done so well here.

3: Love

The way Hellen writes love makes me wish I was in it. But not because it’s written as an all happy and sunshine solution to all wrong. It’s not. It’s written as a strong, complicated emotion. It isn’t written as a one-size fits all. It’s written as something rooted in our hearts that WE get to define, and WE get to use. We love, and it is not a weakness. Love is not a superpower. We all are capable of it, and it doesn’t have to be romantic. Love is…love. It’s so, so SO strong, and I think that this one element is what’s made me cry so much while reading Fading Lights or De Terra or whatever it is. Love. Such a strong meaning for such a small word. I go to Hellens stories and take notes on the way it’s written because it’s just. I hate stories that focus on love, generally. Mostly because they’re written as if it has to be this huge, romantic beats-all card, where the only thing that defines it is the word itself. The characters have to say it for us to know it, and even after that, we don’t believe it. Hellen writes it as it is, which is a difficult feat. These fics are just…wow.

All in all, the way Hellen writes, not only in short term by description and beautiful scenery, but in long term too, leaves such a strong impact. Hellen is definitely, without a doubt, the writer who has most inspired, motivated and influenced the way I write and even the way I think. Hellen has left such a positive mark on me that I’m confident I would be entirely different without having read that one gateway fic. I forgot to mention this, but I read Ad Astra while in a reading slump, and when I say it pulled me out…

also, the concepts in and of themselves are so creative and good and original?? Like how?? And the WORLDBUILDING DONT GET ME STARTED ON THE WORLDBUILDING. HOW??? How does one just make a world so convincing and make it feel so real?? And explore upon it without making it feel like pointless exposition???

TLDR; A year ago, these fics broke into my house, put me in a chokehold, and demanded it be allowed to live there rent free. It still has me in a chokehold, and I give it muffins sometimes.

Theres so much More i can say, and I will probably say it in different posts later. but for now..

I love Hellenites stories more than I love Interstellar, and that’s saying something cause I was a mess by the halfway point of that movie.

Thank you, Hellenite, for each and every one of your stories.

I can’t wait for WGBITN.

(P.S: I realize I sound like an insane fangirl, but whatever. I most likely am one.)

[sullustangin]

Fluffy February Day 23: Dance

A/N: I am officially now caught up, with Reward being posted earlier today and Sacrifice and Partners being posted yesterday.

Time: 25 ATC, 6 months post Eva and Theron getting married.

~~

This is part of that yet-to be-fully-written fic about the galactic celebration for the end of the Eternal Empire/Fleet that Lana planned, because she didn't get the coronation for Eva that she wanted. The first part was prompted by @commanderlurker back in 2021. Then I commissioned @caffeinatedrogue to illustrate the outfits for the gala...

And now I'm about another 2000 words into this venture, but y'all are getting the most relevant 924 for Fluffy February 2024.

~~

“Oh, no.”

At some course in between the main and dessert (Eva forgot how much cheese and more wine had pass through her hands and/or paid an extended visit), Theron said something that sounded more sad than snarky, for once.

“What?” she purred over the rim of her wine glass.

“Jace.”

“Are you still –”

“No.  Not that.” 

Eva finally looked over at Theron and then followed his gaze to –

Jace.

And Satele.  She’d shown up.  She’d actually shown up, and in her old Jedi robes – not the recent ones.  The ones with the gold trim, her hair neatly braided.  She actually looked like she was here to politely celebrate and mingle, as if she hadn’t disappeared.

…

Eva realized she hadn’t said anything to Theron, again. 

But based on his expression, Theron wasn’t think of that right now.  “…I worked security at one of these things, years ago.  Before I knew who he was.”  Theron shifted in his seat and took a big swallow of his glass of wine before continuing.  “It was really, really sad then.  When I found out everything… it hit me like a sack of rocks later.”

Eva shifted closer in her seat toward him, so he could keep his voice low.

“He asked her to dance.  One more time, for old time’s sake.”

Almost in pantomime, Eva saw the same thing playing out again.

“She refused him.  He told her he understood, that he wasn’t going to try to start something or win an argument.  He just wanted to celebrate with someone ….”

Theron’s hesitance won Eva’s attention again.  There was some dull and dead outrage there, some sort of frustration.  But mostly, Theron just looked sad.  “Someone who survived the war like he did.  Someone, who saw it all, like he did.  He wanted to dance with his friend.”

Theron carefully, deliberately met her gaze, as if concerned his emotions would spill all over the table and interrupt dinner.  His hand found hers. 

And there was Jace, reaching one more time, and having nothing in his hands.  Not even his old friend.

Satele had already turned and found a convenient floor-to-ceiling window, disappearing behind the curtain.  Eva knew she was a good enough slicer to escape out the window.   So did Theron.  They didn’t move to stop her.

Time to dance, Eva decided, with one last glug of wine.

~~

“Colonel Malcom.”

His heart in some strange place between his boots and his throat, he turned, already correcting the speaker, “That’s Supreme Commander –”

Jace stopped himself.  Eva.  Theron’s wife.  The Commander of the Alliance.

He felt himself come off the high wire that Satele always put him on.  If she wasn’t a Jedi, he’d wonder if it was on purpose.  He knew it wasn’t, but that didn’t stop him from feeling that way, all the ways, he did about her.    “I haven’t been Colonel since Alderaan.”

“And you’d have to be what, twenty-seven years younger now in order to take me out to dinner?” came the quick-as-a-whip answer.

And suddenly, he was back in that room with Brom and that absolutely audacious smuggler –

Jace’s brain stalled as he realized --

“I knew I’d met you before,” Jace managed say, staring at her.  “It…it just wasn’t at Keylander.”

Eva smiled, mischievous and high-spirited, looking more like she did at 23(ish?) than she did now at 30 (Jace had sent a Jawagram, like he did for Theron). 

And then, a moment of absolute, abject panic.  “Does Theron know that you --?”

“We’ve been joking about that dinner offer for ten years.  On and off,” she replied, waggling her hand in reference to the years lost in carbonite.  As if it was joke, and it didn’t mean so much to them –

Eva rolled on, as ever, ebullient and the absolute life of the party.  “So, obviously, I’m going home with Theron tonight, and I’ve already had dinner.  What say we have a dance?” 

Jace felt his mouth drop open, slightly, but only for a second.  “I – it’s not necessary.”

…as smart as he knew he could be, it was only now that Jace realized she had seen Satele and felt bad for him and –

Probably, so had Theron.  Jace cast a look over at the table where Eva and Theron had been sitting. 

…there wasn’t an empty seat beside Eva’s.  Theron was still there, talking to the woman who had sat at Eva’s left, Lana Beniko.

…he hadn’t chased after her.  He hadn’t left Eva behind.

….good for him.  Good for them.

“Oh, come on, Colonel.  One dance between old friends.”  Then Eva let a pause come between them, just long enough to make him look at her and that really pretty dress.  “Your feet will thank you for my friendship with Lenn of House Teraan.”

That name clicked, in a bad way, for Jace.  “He… you know he didn’t survive the Eternal Fleet barrage on Alderaan.”

Undeterred, Eva straightened up, and suddenly, she was every bit … not the Voidhound, not a queen or empress, but someone who certainly demanded that sort of reverence: the Captain.   “We’ll toast to absent friends later.  The living can dance.”

As if by magic (or on cue, knowing her), the band struck up some ubiquitous waltz that everyone had danced to before, and Jace picked up the first step, and off they spun.

Jace supposed, twelve years after he’d turned her down for dinner and six months after she’d married his son, he and Eva were old friends.

And after a few wars, that was hard to find. 

~~

@fluffyfebruary

[existential-labrador]

So a lot of us are wondering why Ted and Rebecca haven’t had many scenes together or scenes alone together so far this season and there’s a few theories. As much as I’d love to say it’s just a slow burn move, I’ve been thinking about it a lot and think there’s a lot more to it.

This is in response to @dollsome-does-tumblr poll on this very question which really got me thinking. I also realised my answer was too long for a comment so made yet another post 😂

So, I keep thinking about the reason being because they’re both trying to hard to keep it together at the moment that they know (whether consciously or not) that they won’t be able to hide this from each other.

Ted is struggling with Michelle and being apart from Henry and I think is wondering what he now wants from his life. Nate pointing out that he should be with his son really hit a nerve but I think it’s also made Ted realise his life in Kansas doesn’t make sense or even exist anymore.

Similarly Rebecca is wondering what she wants from her life, hence the psychic. Being with Sam made her realise that she can and deserves to be happy but she still has a lot of healing to do before she can get there and she’s not ready to face that completely yet.

I think when they spend some proper time together, these walls they’re building to avoid fully confronting these things will come crashing down.

I also wonder if some part of each of them (again perhaps on an unconscious level) resents the other at the moment with what’s going on with Nate and Rupert. I wonder if on some level Rebecca resents that Ted didn’t see what was going on with Nate and feels like Rupert was given a win, which she hates more than anything. I think that hate is compounded with a degree of self loathing over the fact she is now back to a point of being obsessed with wanting to beat Rupert even though it had seemed she’d almost moved past this stage. I don’t for a second think she would actually believe this is Ted’s fault but emotions don’t always make sense and can be very complicated and often end up being misdirected.

I also wonder if Ted is feeling resentful that Rebecca is still determined to be at war with Rupert because the more they’re at war the more damage is done and they’ve already lost Nate. You could add to that that some part of him may now reflecting on her need for revenge being the reason he’s not with his son. Again I don’t think he truly believes this, but, emotions. But I think with Ted it’s probably more feelings of guilt around Nate and then Rebecca being hurt and reverting back to being obsessed with revenge as a consequence that may be adding to his not wanting to be alone with her and face these feelings, even if he hasn’t acknowledged that yet.

I think we all saw a lot in the scene where she asked him to fight but I think there’s a lot more under the surface of that moment that is still to come. A lot of anger, resentment, guilt, and a lot of pain. Perhaps targeted at each other on some emotional level, even though that isn’t what they actually think or believe.

I also think they’re both feeling a lot of guilt and shame. Given how he has made her feel in the past and given her experience with abuse, Rebecca may feel (however wrongly) responsible for Rupert’s actions and for him targeting Nate and feel, as I said before, ashamed that she is so focused on revenge. Again, Ted is feeling a lot of guilt and shame around Nate and hates what this has done to Rebecca as a consequence. Facing each other may mean facing this and it also means acknowledging the worst parts of themselves. It also means, showing the worst parts of themselves to the other and being as vulnerable as possible as a result, which neither of them is ready to do again yet.

[therosebunpost]

Inspired by true events of my life, I give you yet another story idea:

(Also inspired by a conversation I had with a friend after they so wonderfully listened to me ramble about two dudes from the 80s for hours on end. You are an absolute real one my dude)

But basically let me set the scene for you. Reader is in their 20s (I turned 22 during this event, though any where in the 20s range is fine), and they largely have felt like they’re life has passed them by. Their high-school experience wasn’t very note worthy, they’ve never been on an actual date, hell they haven’t even kissed anybody. (Hahahaha! I wasn’t kidding about that true events thing my dudes. 👁👁) So, this year they’ve decided they’re going to try and have as many experiences as they could. Obviously they want to have more experiences after one year, but it’s easier to think one year at a time.

On their birthday, they’re checking off a few boxes. 1. See a live performance. 2. Go axe throwing and hang out at a bar. Lucky for her, they have a mall that can do both! So, reader gets all dressed up to go out and see this cover band. Shes alone largely by choice but also she doesn’t have a lot of friends, vibing to the music until the intermission which is where she meets Steve. Steve, who was sitting at the table beside them, feels sympathy over the fact that she’s alone. (He may have had a few drinks, so he’s feeling just a bit more emotional and reminiscent over his own days of loneliness. Plus he’s with his friends, so the contrast just hits him.)

Reader casually mentions it’s their birthday and they came because they didn’t have anyone else to go with, is unaware they’ve made a terrible mistake. Steve, who is now fueled with alcohol and extroverted ambition, sneaks away to tell Eddie of this. “It’s her birthday Munson! Come onnn, please?” Eddie obviously can’t say no to Steve, so when he walks out on stage, he gets the whole band to sing happy birthday to her.

Reader is mortified. Especially as Steve plops back down, all smiley and sweet, so she can’t even really be upset with him. She pretends to be happy, even tipping the band after their performance because she just has to now. Unaware to her though, Eddie’s been watching from the sidelines and could see the horror, so he pulls Steve aside.

“You…asked her if she wanted us to sing her that, right?”

“Wha- Why would i do that?? It would have ruined the surprise!”

“Steve.” Eddie directs him to look at her again, at the way she seems to wince when people wish her happy birthday as they leave. “I think she was trying to keep a low profile, dude. She was alone, no birthday stuff in sight. Usually if they have birthday celebrations the place would have notified us already.”

“….Oh. Oh no.”

“Yeah…”

Steve starts ahead, fully intending to apologize, Eddie following after him incase things go south. He tries not to wince when Reader looks spooked as the two approach her. “I’m..so sorry, I didn’t realize you might have been trying to keep a low profile! It’s just, well, my boyfriend is in the band and I thought it’d be a fun surprise- I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

Eddie comes up behind him, clapping him on the back with a chuckle. “He really didn’t mean to scare you, Sweetheart. Stevie here just gets a little over excited. Hope you liked the show at least?”

Just a tad intimidated by having not just one, but two attractive guys talking to her, Reader is quick to nod. “It’s fine! Really, I made a promise to myself that I wasn’t going to tell anybody. I really should have kept to that, you didn’t know. The show was great, thank you.” Then after a few more words, Reader turns to leave, but not before hearing Eddie as he leans close to Steve. “I don’t blame you for wantin’ to impress her Harrington, she’s real pretty.” Cue flustered Reader all but booking it away.

So, you’re probably wondering where the axe throwing comes in, right? Well, instead of just one day to celebrate their birthday, Reader is having a birthday week! So, the next day they go back to the mall where there’s an Axe throwing lane and a bar. Once again shes alone, and shes determined not to let anybody know it’s her birthday. She’s just going to have a fun, low key time chucking axes, and hanging out at the bar. Well, that was the plan until her server turns out to be Steve Harrington. Steve, who may have accidentally let it slip to Robin that it’s Reader’s birthday, who is now apologizing again after Robin makes a big deal out of it.

Basically, Reader just can’t get peace because of Steve’s inability to understand the idea of flying under the radar.

I’m thinking it could be a whole series of blurbs of different experiences that Reader could go on with Steve and Eddie!

[ssleepdeprivedauthor]

boyfriend/crush/ex-- ch 3

As Kurapika walked down the hospital halls searching for where to get breakfast, he spotted Leorio in the corner of his eye. It seemed he was talking to someone, maybe a boss of his? Kurapika stood awkwardly, waiting for Leorio to finish speaking. 

“Leorio?”

“Kurapika! Feeling better already, huh? 

“Yes, I am. Thank you for taking care of me.” Leorio grinned, scratching his neck, “Really, it’s no big deal. Besides, it’s my job.” 

“Still, thank you.” “Alright, alright, you’re welcome.” “Also, where is breakfast? I haven’t been able to find it yet.” 

“Turn left, two doors down.”

Kurapika nodded, hurriedly moving towards the area, his shoes leaving a slight squeak as he walked. 

As Kurapika stepped into the cafeteria-esque place, not fully a cafeteria, he grabbed a bowl and filled it up with cereal. (Fruit loops, to be specific.) 

Once sat, everything started rushing back in. How would he finish off the Phantom Troupe? Vengeance, whether you like it or not, will fill you up with a thirst so strong you’re unable to quench it until it has been completed. 

Leorio. 

Fuck, Leorio was too good for him. 

Here, Kurapika was, killing innocents and Leorio was saving them. 

Yes, maybe he still harbored some sort of attraction toward the other, but it wouldn’t work. It wasn’t possible. They were polar opposites, Kurapika everything dark while Leorio was light. 

He’d have to distance himself once again.

Ten years, after ten years, they’d reunited. And Kurapika, like the damn asshole he was, would leave, without saying goodbye. Just like he did in the past.

It was for the better for Leorio to forget of him.

The chatter in the cafeteria faded out, Kurapika trying to figure out how he wasn’t going to be an emotional-disaster by the time he needed to go. 

Alright, one week. One week with Leorio, and that’s all he’d do. He’d spend one week with Leorio, and then it would be over.

Over, huh? 

Well, it was for the greater good anyways. As he said, he wouldn’t let another innocent get hurt by his hands. 

***

“I’m ready to be discharged.” 

“Kurapika, you cannot be serious. You can’t just discharge yourself, idiot!” Leorio chided, flicking Kurapika on the forehead. 

“Ow.” 

“There is no way that hurt.” 

“You’re right. But, then, when can I be discharged?”

“If I could make you stay in this hospital forever, I would. But I’d say, two days more, alright?” 

“Fine.” 

Damnit, why was Kurapika acting so weird? He could easily just leave if he wanted to, it’s not like Leorio could stop him. He appreciated Kurapika actually listening to him for once, but he was always so stubborn about getting his way, this whole situation slightly shocked Leorio. 

“Oh, hey, Kurapika?” 

“Hm?” 

“How long are you gonna stay in Yorknew? And, um, if you’re staying longer than just your hospital stay, would you like to uh, room with me?” Leorio stumbled over his words, scratching his neck. 

“In your apartment?” 

“Yeah.” 

“I’m staying for a week.” Kurapika replied, his expression as calm as ever. 

A week? It’s longer than Leorio expected, but still, too short. 

“So is that a yes or no?” 

“Huh? Oh, um, yes. I’ll room with you.” 

Fuck yeah. Maybe, just maybe, he could convince Kurapika to stay longer. And to take care of himself just a bit more. 

And of course, just as Leorio mentally celebrated this achievement, a whole barrage of emotions hit him. Wow, Kurapika was an asshole. Remind him why he was even inviting him to room in his apartment for about a week? 

“Kurapika?” 

“What, Leorio?” 

“You’re an asshole.”

“...I know.” 

“At least we agree on something, I guess,” Leorio sighed, running a hand through his hair. 

“You left for ten years, and really, never kept in contact once?” 

“It was dangerous.” 

“Dangerous my ass! Do you have any idea how worried I was about you? How insanely insane I went trying to reach you? I thought you were dead!” 

“I’m sorry.” 

“You dumbass, sorry doesn’t make up for that,” Leorio pointed a finger at Kurapika’s chest, admonishing him for his behavior. “To make up for that, you have to spend at least a year taking care of yourself!” 

“Hey, Leorio?” 

“Did you not hear me? I said–” 

“I heard you. I wanted to ask you something.” 

“Oh. Well, go ahead.” 

“How has. . . everyone been, these past few years? I just want to know, are they okay?” 

Leorio’s eyes softened, and he began to speak, a gentler tone evident in his voice. “A few is a bit of an understatement. But everyone’s fine. Gon, Killua, they’re all okay. They’re not dead, if that’s what you thought.” 

“Okay. Okay, that’s good.” 

Sighing softly, Leorio ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. Seriously, what was he supposed to do? His maybe boyfriend, maybe ex, had just shown up, and he was still as hopelessly in love as he was before. Yep, he was whipped. 

“Also, I do want to make it up to you, Leorio. I really do apologize. I know I shouldn’t have left without a word.” 

“Like I said, I want you to take care of yourself. Or just– take a break, okay? From everything.” 

“I’ll take a break.” 

***

“You getting settled okay?” Leorio checked, stirring the batter as he made pancakes. He wondered if Kurapika still liked them as much as he did back then. 

“Mhm.” 

So dry. Leorio supposed he couldn’t exactly complain. It had been ten years, it wouldn’t be the same as before. But he wished, so badly, it would. 

He wanted to know what Kurapika had been, what he’d done, if he’d completed his goal. But it was almost impossible to figure out what the mysterious blond man behind him was thinking. 

“Here ya’ go, fresh pancakes.” 

“Thank you, Leorio. They smell good.” 

Leorio smiled, “Well, let’s pray they taste good too.”

“They always do.” 

***

Two days in, and Leorio had no clue how to convince Kurapika to stay longer. Force? Um, yeah, definitely not. He’d end up dead. And how could he convince Kurapika to tell him why he left, what he’d been doing all this time? 

Sighing, Leorio leaned against the chair. Here he was, supposed to be ‘working’, and Kurapika had taken over this aspect of his life as well. Might as well find a way go talk to him.

“Hey, Kurapika!” He called out, stepping into the guest bedroom. “Uh, want coffee?” 

“Sure. Thank you.” 

“Alright,” Leorio affirmed, heading towards the kitchen and starting up a pot of coffee. Why was it so hard to talk to him? It should be natural. Maybe bringing Gon would help him? Wait, shit, Gon and Killua didn’t even know Kurapika was back. He’s not exactly sure if Kurapika would appreciate more people being aware of his return, but he didn’t exactly appreciate Kurapika leaving for ten years so there’s that. 

Okay, yeah. He’d bring Gon, and maybe Gon could convince Kurapika to stay. Just a little longer, at least. 

(i dont feel like linking my ao3 anymore, if u want it just search it up since its the same as my tumblr. erm, my bad for not uploading for so long...😁👍)