#i just hope they know what they just put out into the universe!

[fatherbrat]

SESSION ONE: TOUCH & SHUSH, S. GOJO

sum. part 1 of the lessons learned series. you have a hard time concentrating during the final thirty minutes of your first tutoring session. not to worry! your new tutor knows just how to keep your attention.

feat. satoru gojo

cw. tutor!gojo, fem reader, physics/math/calculus mentions, fingering in public (the campus library), hold the moan, mdni

wc. 2.4k

You’ve been trying to beat Satoru Gojo for three years.

It started in high school, when he snuck past you on the class rankings during the first semester of your final year, stealing that valedictorian title right from under your nose. You hadn’t even known to be looking out for him. His GPA seemed to have shot up out of nowhere.

It felt like someone had knocked you off a winding staircase just as you were about to reach the top.

Even now, in your third year of university, you have yet to best him. You weren’t aware that Gojo was going to the same school as you after high school, but it felt like the universe was giving you a chance to seek a little revenge.

However, with less than four semesters until graduation, it’s looking like you’ll be second fiddle to Gojo for the rest of your life. There isn’t even a word that can convey how fucking humiliating that is for you. Your friends think it’s dramatic of you to say you’d rather die, but you’ve never been more serious about anything else in your whole life.

It’s a nearly failed physics exam that ends up being your final straw. Well, “nearly failed” is a bit of an exaggeration. You got a B. But B’s don’t beat Satoru Gojo. It’s that thought that makes you finally sign up for a one-on-one tutoring session—one of the pricier ones that all but guarantees you’ll get perfect grades for the rest of the semester.

You fidget in your seat, glancing towards the library entrance every time someone enters. The table you picked is on the second floor, tucked away in a corner with a perfect view of the double doors downstairs.

It’s not very quiet. You would have preferred a session at a time when the library was a bit more deserted, but the only appointment slots available were during peak hours. Oh well. Beggars can’t be choosers.

Your fingers toy with the corners of your exam—four pages of questions and too many markings made with red ink. They freeze when a familiar somebody enters the building, his eyes scanning the first floor like he’s looking for someone.

Satoru Gojo is wearing gray sweatpants and a matching hoodie, his backpack slung over one shoulder. He tugs his wired earbuds out of his ears and pushes his sunglasses up onto his head as he stands and searches.

You sink into your seat, not wanting him to notice you. It’s bad enough you have to pay someone to help you beat him. You don’t need the added shame of your rival knowing how far you're going just to outdo him.

But it’s almost like that very movement alerts him to your presence. His head jerks up suddenly and he finds you, peering through the railing with those scary blue eyes. A crooked grin stretches across his face and he immediately rushes up the staircase, skipping steps on his way up. 

You sink further, hoping he doesn’t come straight to you. But of course, he does. 

Gojo puts his hands on the opposite end of your table, his knees hitting the modesty panel that hangs down.

“Hey you,” he says, all too familiar, acting like you’re longtime friends. “Whatcha doin’?”

You motion towards the spread of study materials on the table. “What does it look like?”

“Well, it looks like you’re just studying. But from down there–” he juts his chin in the direction of the front door downstairs–“it looked like you were waiting for someone.”

You frown, fingers pattering along the bottom of your graded exam. “I’m not waiting for anything. I’m studying.”

Gojo comes around to your side of the table and sits next to you, dumping his bag onto the surface. “You sure? I thought we had an appointment.” He holds his phone up in front of his face and squints at it. Your stomach drops. “You said you needed help in physics. Specifically…electromagnetism?” He puts his phone on the table, smiling. “Or was that not you?”

You put your head in your hands, cursing the universe for giving you the worst luck in the world. Of course, he gets assigned to be your tutor. You didn’t even know he was tutoring. 

“There’s no fucking way,” you mumble into your palms.

Gojo tilts his head and pokes your arm. “Is something wrong?”

You take in one deep breath. And then another. And then lay your hands flat on the table.

“You’re my tutor?” you ask.

“Sure am,” Gojo says, putting his arm on the back of your chair.

You groan and your phone vibrates. You’ve just unlocked your phone when Gojo plucks it out of your hands. 

“We only have an hour and a half,” he says, before his eyes catch the words on the screen and he smirks. You wince and reach across him, but those long limbs keep you at bay as he scrolls through the new messages in your group chat.

“Baddie baddie shot o’clock,” he mutters, reading the name of the group off the top of the screen.

“Give that back,” you say, smacking his arm. He just keeps reading.

You know the last few messages you sent were about him. And you know any conversation about him always ends up…kind of thirsty. (You’re not blind! He may be a pain in your ass but he’s also fine as hell.) Whatever he’s reading must be stroking his ego.

You watch him put your phone on do not disturb and then lay it down on the opposite end of the table, out of arm’s reach. When he turns to look at you he’s got his eyebrows raised.

“You and your friends are funny,” he says, obviously trying not to laugh. 

You sigh and wave your test in the air. “Just help me with this.”

Gojo shifts into teaching mode, still looking vaguely amused, but offering notes and corrections on your exam and the notes you’ve taken yourself. It surprises you how good he is at this. That air of cockiness is still there, but he’s genuinely helpful. It surprises you further when he pulls out a practice sheet.

“You’re struggling with this because you don’t have a good grasp on vector calculus,” he says, tapping on the worksheet with the end of his pen. 

You groan. He’s right, but no amount of office hours or YouTube videos have helped. This was your last hope.

But the two of you have already been at it for an hour and your focus is dwindling. Your mind wanders, wondering what your friends are talking about, what’s happening on your Twitter timeline, what you should get for dinner. Your fingers twitch and you glance at your phone, face-down on Gojo’s side of the table.

He pockets it, shaking his head a little. “Don’t tell me you're getting restless already.” He makes a big show of extending his arm so that his sleeve moves up a little, exposing his watch. “We only have half an hour left.” He pokes your temple. “You can make it.”

A heavy sigh escapes you, but you refocus on the paper in front of you. Gojo grabs one of the legs of your chair and pulls you closer to him, until your seat clangs against his and he can lean over your shoulder. 

You stare at the top of the page until your eyes unfocus. Would it be rude to end the session early? You’d hate to not get your money’s worth, but God this stuff was so mind-numbing. You look around the library, leg bouncing.

Gojo’s hand lands on your thigh and you pause.

When you glance at him he just taps the paper. “Focus. Vector fields first.”

You blink and get back to your worksheet, not moving his hand.

He starts circling his thumb on your skin. “Vector fields are just functions,” he explains, pointing at a formula written in bold at the top of the page. “Look, there’s an example.”

You scan the example graph and the explanation below it, striving to absorb the information. Gojo’s hand shifts higher, his fingers slipping just beneath the hem of your skirt. When you raise your eyebrow at him, he just stares right back.

“I read your texts,” he reminds you.

You try to recall exactly what you said in there. Something nasty about him, for sure. You eye the ceiling, trying to remember.

Gojo squeezes your leg, drawing your attention back. “I’ll give you a phone break if you can answer the first two without help.”

You yearn for your phone, so you nod and pick up your pencil.

It doesn’t take you long to finish the questions, but you think Gojo spends longer than necessary reviewing your work. 

He pulls your phone out of his pocket and you practically leap into his lap for it. 

You’re fully occupied with catching up and responding to messages until he tucks his hand into the waistband of your skirt. 

“What are you doing?” you ask, still tapping away.

You know what he’s doing. The first thing you did when you got your phone back was check which texts he read. 

you #that man just walked in

Thing 1 what if he’s ur tutor lolll

you i’ll jump off the roof rn

Thing Two shiiii he can teach ME show me how to ride that dick sir!

you ur nasty

Thing 1 you literally sent us a message abt his bulge yesterday

you … touché

Gojo hums. “You can tell me to stop.”

You don’t. You spread your knees further apart so he can have better access and do a quick sweep of the floor with your eyes. The two of you are in a corner and there’s a modesty panel on the table, but still…

“Relax,” he whispers, his lips just brushing your ear. “Nobody’s gonna see. Just act natural.”

It’s hard to “act natural” when someone’s hand is between your legs in a crowded library, but you try your best. Your phone vibrates in your hand and you resume scrolling. Gojo pinches your clit through your underwear.

You toss him a hard glare and he deliberately avoids eye contact, looking up and around and acting oblivious.

“Break time’s over,” he says suddenly, pulling your panties to the side at the same time.

“Wha-”

“Fifteen minutes left of your session,” he says, sliding one long finger inside your cunt. “Let’s make it count.”

Your brain stutters. Make what count? There’s no way he expects you to pay attention to any kind of lesson while he’s doing…that.

“You okay?” he asks, slowly dragging his finger out of your pussy only to add another one. He points at the bottom of your worksheet with his free hand. “One more of these and then we can review line integrals.”

This guy’s fucking insane.

You shift a bit, sitting up in your seat to concentrate on the task at hand. Gojo takes your phone again, but you hardly notice. 

When you complete the problem he makes a sound of approval and takes out another worksheet. “See it’s not that bad. Line integrals now.”

He points at a figure in the middle of the page as he stuffs a third finger up your already-full cunt. “Line integrals are used to calculate the work done by a force on a moving object. But if you take this curved line and-”

Everything he’s saying is going in one ear and out the other. You’re nodding along, trying to look composed and natural as he fingers you. Your teeth sink into your bottom lip and you have to resist the urge to shut your eyes.

“It’s just like line integration in scalar fields,” Gojo continues. He sounds excited. You’d like to think it’s because he really likes this advanced calculus, but it’s probably just because he can tell you’re getting close.

He presses the pad of his thumb onto your clit and a full-body shudder rolls through you. He smiles wide, still lecturing. You exhale gently, careful to not let a moan slip as you grip the edge of the table.

He stops talking in the middle of a sentence about arc length, but his fingers never slow. You watch as he checks the time and frowns. 

“Oh no,” he murmurs, sounding disappointed. He turns to face you, taking in your widened eyes and barely parted lips. “Our hour and a half is over.” He pouts. “I’ll finish up, mkay.”

He thumbs your clit again, increasing the speed of his fingers. “Here,” he says, leaning into you. “Bite my shoulder when you come. And try not to make any noise, yeah?”

He’s so conceited, you think. But before you can say something snarky, he buries his fingers knuckles-deep again, pressing them up against that spot inside you that makes you clamp down on his shoulder, tears pricking your eyes as your orgasm hits you harder than expected.

It takes all your effort to hold back your moans as you pulse around Gojo’s fingers. He chuckles a little, letting you catch your breath before he pulls his hand away. You stop biting him and slouch in your seat, reaching down to readjust your skirt and underwear in a way that’s subtle.

Gojo sucks your slick off of his hands, releasing each finger from his mouth with a pop sound. You scrunch up your nose at him, irked at the unnecessary noise. You exerted so much energy to stay silent and here he goes.

“So we’re done?” you ask, blinking away the tears that formed when you came.

“Yep,” he answers, nodding. “Just finish up those worksheets before next week and make sure you take notes in class. I’ll make sure you’re all set for midterms.” He winks.

You start to put your things away, closing your laptop and notebooks.

“By the way,” Gojo says, standing up, “this has been my favorite tutoring session I’ve done so far.”

You just roll your eyes, the smallest of smiles tugging on your lips. 

He places your phone on the table and swings his backpack over his shoulder. “And see if you can reserve one of the private study rooms for next time.”

He pins you with a knowing look before spinning around, long legs striding towards the staircase.

If you know tutoring went like this, you would have signed up sooner.

a/n. all the physics math stuff i got from the uc berkeley website and khan academy so...thanks to them lmfao. (or yk, blame them if it's wrong)

taglist. @megumisthirdog @chaccomiya @hellokittyish @ash--007 @gojoakgae @bunnisthings @ourfinalisation @levislug @inlove-maze @tobiodoll @iwaizumisloverrr @kentogetsmewetter @newdruid @cocoamide @y34rnf0rcc @missthatgirl @shutuppeter @skyshadowsworld @usbrous @cherryredribbons @lolitamermaid123 @kinnimi @aerareads @billiondollarworth @sillymortalblob @vadiatree @kachntos @www-sanrioslut-com you must have an age indicator in your bio to be added to the taglist

[allronix]

In any other universe, I say "This side conscripts children and trains them with deadly weapons. They forbid these children from ever seeing or hearing from their families once recruited in infancy because the organization is their family now. And to defend the government they serve, they allowed themselves to become the overseers and commanders of an army of slave soldiers to suppress internal dissent," we would look at that and think these were the guys we were trying to fight against.

So weirdly, we have the Jedi set up to be these ultimate heroes and good guys, yet they are just soaked in the tropes and trappings that would mark them as the bad side in any other piece of work depicting a dystopia.

The whole Jedi recruiting is Dystopia 101. You want to establish that this is a bad place to live? Establish that the people in charge recruit kids and take them away from their parents. Even as recently as the HP Fantastic Beasts films, Newt's introduction to America's Wizarding World being a dystopian system was when Tina and Queenie pointed out that American mage children born to "No-Maj" (muggles) were taken from their birth families and their muggle relatives and friends mind raped into forgetting them. (One wonders if the Jedi would use this and bullshit some reason about sparing those left behind the pain of loss...). You also get the Babylon Five Psi Corps or the Dragon Age mage towers. Hell, even in Disney canon, one of the things that establishes the First Order as grade A dirtbags is Finn telling his new comrades that he was recruited as an infant.

So...um...why in the HELL are we supposed to see this Jedi practice as happy, fluffy, adoption?! Or at the very least take the whole "Oh, but this is all willing! It is a great honor for the family to sacrifice their child!" without a 55-gallon drum of suspicion? In real life, children were recruited from peasant families or other disfavored populations to serve as concubines (if female), soldiers (if male), servant/slave labor, or human sacrifice. It was a way for the elites to tell these disfavored populations that they could do whatever the hell they wanted, especially destroy any future or hope for the future. And the only thing these disfavored people could console themselves with is the elite's excuse that having their child "chosen" in this way was an honor.

Another dystopia trope is the whole Word of Lucas that Jedi can have casual sexual relations but not emotional attachment. Well, that was a common thing in sci-fi dystopias. Logan's Run with the glasshouses where people hooked up with strangers and watched each other get it on. Brave New World with the Orgy Porgy. That sort of thing. And it was a thing in real life for people conscripted to military or religious service to not be able to marry but they were fine with...er...more transactional forms of sex. The elite of the Catholic church are what gave us the courtesan, prostitutes trained to be elite and educated companions to the Papal court. Buddhist monks of Edo Japan having ritualized pederasty with the acolytes. Both regulated brothels, and I'm pretty sure it wasn't just because they were doing the health inspections. We know sex work, sex slavery, and that sort of thing is all over the GFFA and given a wide tolerance. We also know that Jedi do espionage type missions and that honey pot espionage is never going away. We also have the sticky bit that Force Sensitivity has a strong (though not guaranteed) genetic component. So there may be a few unpleasant reasons for this dystopian edict as well. Only made more salient by the nasty misogynistic treatment if a female/carrying Jedi gets pregnant.

The last dystopia trope is the removal from the natural world. Much emphasis is put on the natural aspects of the "good" guys versus the cold tech of the "evil" guys. Or if we have a world where everyone lives in cyberpunk hellscape, only the rich and powerful (usually the bad guys) get to see an actual tree. Okay, the alleged "good" guys are sitting in the middle of a cyberpunk hellscape world. And like the rich elite, they have actual real trees in a place where most citizens will never touch real soil! At least with Legends, you got Jedi enclaves and outposts in really nice locations surrounded by nature and life; Tython, Dantooine, Ossus. Tenoo if you want to throw a Disney example in there.

The average muggle citizen of Star Wars lives in horrible poverty. To the point where a one-room apartment in a slum building on the SURFACE of Coruscant is considered luxury. Many more live in subsistence farming like medieval peasants. Others under the thumb of corporate rule because companies like Czerka own entire planets.

Granted, it's better than various incarnations of the Empire because it's not just open slavery led by ax-crazy theocratic whack-jobs too busy backstabbing and power jockeying to get anything done but warfare. But...well...being better than Sith is textbook faint praise.

Dystopian themes in the Prequels

“Looking back is helpful in understanding his work. Lucas started out in the 1960’s as an experimental filmmaker heavily influenced by the avant-garde films of the San Francisco art scene. Initially interested in painting, he became an editor and visualist who made abstract tone poems. His first feature, THX 1138 (1971) was an experimental science fiction film that presented a surreal, underground world where a dictatorial state controls a docile population using drugs. Love and sex are outlawed, procreation is controlled through machines, and human beings shuffle meaninglessly around the system.”

—Anthony Parisi, 'Revisiting the Star Wars Prequels'

The bolded parts in this description correspond with the Coruscant Underworld, the Jedi Order’s code, and the creation of the clone troopers, respectively.

Notably, in THX 1138's setting, emotions such as love and the concept of family are taboo:

I’ve always found it so interesting that Lucas incorporated the dystopian elements of his earlier sci-fi into the Prequels, taking place as they do in the context of the final years of the Repubic, with all its colourful and sumptuous visual spendour. In comparison, the post-apocalyptic ‘Dark Times’ of the Original Trilogy would seem on the surface to be the more outwardly ‘dystopian’ setting of the two—however, the actual story of the OT is a mythic hero's journey and fairytale, complete with an uplifting and transcendent happy ending. The OT's setting may be drained of colour, and its characters may be living under the shadow of the Empire, but as a story it is far from bleak or dystopian in tone. Rather, fascinatingly, it is the pre-apocalyptic era of the Prequels that is presented as the more dystopian storyline:

“On the surface, [The Phantom Menace] is an optimistic, colorful fantasy of a couple of swashbuckling samurai rescuing a child Queen and meeting a gifted slave boy who can help save the galaxy from the slimy Trade Federation and its Sith leaders. But beneath that cheerful facade is a sweatshop of horrors.” —Michael O'Connor, 'Moral Ambiguity: Beyond Good and Evil in the Prequels'

This is referring to the state of the galaxy during the Prequels era, including the fact that slavery is known to exist, but is largely ignored by the Republic and the Jedi alike due to being too economically inconvenient to combat. It also refers to how the Jedi of the Old Order come across as cold and distant atop their ivory tower on the artificial world of Coruscant, far removed not only from the natural world but also from the true realities of the people they claim to serve. And then there is the additional revelation in Attack of the Clones that love and family are 'outlawed' within the Jedi Order, creating an environment in which their own 'Chosen One' is unable to flourish, leaving him vulnerable to the Dark Side. Finally, there's the fact that the characters end up so distracted by fighting a civil war (something that goes against their own principles and involves the use of a slave clone army in the process), that they are blinded to the entity of pure evil that is guiding their every move...until it is too late.

“Without a clear enemy, the Jedi Order, the Galactic Senate, the whole of the Star Wars galaxy bickers and backstabs and slides around the moral scales. But there is one benefit to Palpatine’s pure evil crashing down upon the galaxy; against its oppressive darkness, only the purest light can shine through.” —Michael O'Connor, 'Moral Ambiguity: Beyond Good and Evil in the Prequels'

If anything, the Dark Times allows for the OT generation's acts of courage and heroism to flourish and succeed, because they are not hampered by the Old Jedi Order's restrictive rules, nor by its servitude to the whims of an increasingly corrupt Republic—so corrupt, in fact, that by the time of RotS, it is practically the Empire in all but name. Indeed, one of the key features of the Prequels, and what makes them so tragic, is that the characters are already living in a dystopia...they just don't know it.

There is, paradoxically, a level of freedom to be found in the midst of the Dark Times which had not been possible during the Twilight era, which allows Original Trio to rise above the tragedy that befell their predecessors. They are able to act as free agents (not as slaves of a corrupt government), serving only the fight for the liberation of all the peoples of the galaxy (not just citizens of the Republic), and are likewise free to live (and love!) on their own terms. Free to act on their positive attachments to one another, without having to hide the truth of their feelings. It's particularly telling that *this* is, above all, what makes the Prequels era so dystopian—the characters' inability to freely and openly participate in normal familial human relationships.

[madamspellmans-met-tet]

what are your lilia calderu headcanons?

this is what I could think of right now! :)

SFW

Backstory

The Maestra was a mother figure to her but she didn’t get everything she needed from her. She wasn’t warm enough since Lilia has always been a gentle soul. The hardened, sarcastic exterior she now puts on with new people she adopted because of her Maestra.

Heavy on the survivor’s guilt. For one, because of her coven in Sicily and also because of her witch sister who were killed during the trials, where she managed to get away after being tortured.

She had a wife who fell victim to the witch trials and who she’s been looking for ever since hoping that their paths will cross again in the form of a reincarnation.

In the comics she has a son apparently whereas in AAA we don’t know. Either she didn’t have children bc a) lesbian and b) she was scared to miss out on too much because of the “gaps” or she lost her son too in a similar fashion where she saw it coming but was powerless against it. In this case, if the son existed in this universe, I believe the vampire Lilia fought and got the scar from turned him and he went on to live with the other vampires since he was afraid he’d hurt his mother if he stayed with her.

She met Stevie Nicks in LA when she and Lindsey were doing small gigs. Lilia had a little crush on her. More on that here

General

Loves stuff like needlework, knitting, crocheting. Her maestra taught her and it’s her way of remembering and feeling less alone.

She’s also made all the beaded curtains herself in meticulous detail. It kept her company on many nights.

Amazing cook, grows weed, incredible singing (other ppl have mentioned this before so putting it in one point bc I so agree)

She’s worked as a singer in small jazz bars but eventually stopped because the tips dwindled as the centuries went by and the signs of age began to show. The pay wasn’t enough on its own.

Severely touch-starved. When someone touches her she freezes at first and then gets really emotional (without showing it) and will not leave the side of the person who touched her because she hopes they’ll do it again.

At the same time, she’s a recluse by choice. With her psychic business, she can dose human contact so that she doesn’t get overwhelmed with other people’s feelings and the visions she gets about them and the helplessness she feels.

Because she’s been on her own for so long, she’s very much stuck in her ways and particular about how she does things. So when you start dating her, you have to learn and adapt. And she appreciates this greatly.

She buys jewellery every time she visits a new place.

Big on little kisses.

She knows she’s hot.

NSFW

this woman has a thing for being called “mama” I don’t make the rules. Her mommy kink is bigger than reader’s. She started it and she gets off on it. (maybe because she missed out on being a mother bc of her “gaps” cf SFW section)

after having lived for more than 4 centuries, she’s tried just about anything and ended up being almost bored by sex. this is why she focuses more on connection and closeness during sex rather than the act itself. She can be really filthy when the mood strikes her though.

She likes to soft dom but also bottom. And she’s really big on rewarding you, whether that be with praise, kisses, cuddles, or orgasms.

She prefers soft yet intense over rough unless you specifically ask for it.

She likes having her tits played with. It makes her emotional.

Knows how to use her unique nose for your pleasure. Especially loves having you ride her face.

[strawberriesoup]

24 to 25٠࣪⭑

── .✦ A snowstorm forces you to take refuge with Jisung on christmas eve

word count: 6.6k

genre: fluff with a little angst, jisung x female reader, mutual pining, comfort, acquaintances to lovers

warnings: cursing, feelings, reader is down horrendously bad for jisung, kisses, jisung is a sweetheart

a/n: this has been in the works for a while (i’m bad at writing stuff fast) SO IM SUPER HAPPY THAT I WAS ABLE TO GET IT OUT FOR THE HOLIDAY SEASON

any/all feedback is highly appreciated!!

taglist: @jisunggy @holly-here @hannamoon143 @fly-you-dam-fools

if you would like to be added to my general taglist, send me a comment or an ask! <3

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The holiday season is a time for joy, a time to share laughter and meals, a time to wear fuzzy socks and fall asleep watching bad Christmas movies. Well, that’s what it’s supposed to be anyways. It’s a little hard to get into the Christmas cheer when each snowflake swirling outside your windshield is somehow concerningly larger than the last.

Wind whistles past your car as you squint your eyes, trying — and failing— to get any sort of visibility through the rapidly thickening blanket of snow and darkness. The gas light flashes on with a ping. Damn it. Continuing on whilst the best you can make out of your surroundings is a screen of nothingness and the occasional telephone pole doesn’t seem like the best course of action right now.

Eventually, you manage to pull into a small gas station about five minutes away by reluctantly putting your life into the hands of Google Maps.

Blowing warmth onto your hands, white-knuckled from your death grip on the steering wheel, you yank your phone out of the cupholder. Stranded in some dingy parking lot a good forty-five minutes away from your apartment is definitely where you needed to be on Christmas Eve, thanks so much universe. And your feet are cold.

You had really wanted to surprise them. The last time you’d seen your family was back in March, well over half a year ago. You thought Christmas as the perfect opportunity to visit. Just imagining the look on their faces alone was more than enough to spur your enthusiasm. But, then again, you hear the worries in the back of your mind. You hadn’t visited in so long, rarely even sending a text their way. And coming over with zero warning? They might not be as happy as you hoped.

No, of course they would be happy to see you, right? Right. Either way, there’s no way you’re going anywhere tonight.

Warm air from the AC fans across your face as you slump back in your chair, unfastening the top clasp of your coat that suddenly seems to be suffocating you. What do you even do in this situation? Call someone?

Scrolling through your contacts, your eyes alight on a familiar name.

Han Jisung

You face lights up with hope. Didn’t he say something about living around here? You open his contact, immediately faced with the looming call button in the top right corner of the screen.

Jisung is somewhat of an aquaintance of yours. Calling him a friend might be too bold. Being partners on a group project doesn’t automatically equal friendship, but you two had gotten along quite well. At least, you thought so. Maybe that was wishful thinking coming from your fat crush on him and his gorgeous smile, but still.

What are you doing? You hardly know this guy, and you’re going to call him on Christmas Eve night so he can, what, pick you up? You have to admit, the thought sets off little warning bells in your head. But what other options do you have?

Finger hovering over the button, you hesitate for a moment longer before pressing call.

The line rings once, twice. What if he doesn’t answer? He’s probably busy, it is Christmas eve after all. Did he ever mention leaving town for the holidays?

You’re so busy trying to recall previous conversations with him that you almost don’t notice the line picking up before the third ring. Shit, that was faster than you were expecting. Jisung’s voice greets you through the speaker.

“Heyy, what’s up?”

At the sound of his voice, your heart does a little leap in your chest. You take a deep breath before answering.

“Hi Jisung. I, uh, have a bit of a favor to ask.”

⋆⁺₊❅ ⁺₊❆⋆

You were right about him living close, because less than fifteen minutes later the bright flash of headlights announces Jisung’s arrival. You know that looking nice should be the least of your priorities right now, but that doesn’t stop you from flipping open the sunvisor and briefly inspecting your appearance.

Jisung’s car door thuds shut as you hop out of your own car, met with a brisk rush of air that fills your lungs, chilling you from the inside out. He wasn’t far, but with the heavy snow you can just make out his form from across the lot. You’re quick to hustle towards his dark sillouette, eager to get out of the cold as soon as possible.

Meeting in the middle sooner than you had expected, both you and Jisung halt in tandem, breaths coming in puffs of condensation. The zipper of his puffer jacket is half undone, complimented by a scarf thrown haphazardly around his neck. His hands that are shoved deep in the pockets of his coat give hint to the fact that he’s probably not even wearing gloves.

Neither of you had spoken a word. The silence is painfully awkward, and you can tell he feels it too, if the way he glances down at his feet in favor of meeting your eyes is anything to go by.

“So, do you—”

“Should we—”

Speaking simultaneously, you both cut your sentences short, falling into a silence that’s somehow louder than the last. God, you had expected it to be awkward but not this awkward. Meeting with Jisung outside of a college setting feels so foreign, the only way you’ve interacted with him thus far has been through school. You can feel your ears burn as Jisung clears his throat.

“Sorry, uh, you were saying?” He pulls his hand out of his pocket to gesture at you, confirming that he is indeed not wearing gloves.

The question hangs in the air as Jisung pushes his glasses up with two fingers and looks at you expectantly. His cheeks are tinted with blush from the prickling cold. Lips slightly parted, his breath hisses through his teeth with every inhale, as if trying to supress them from chattering.

“Oh, yeah,” you begin your sentence again, shaking your head to focus. You’re standing in a parking lot in the middle of an actual snowstorm, now is not the time to be fawning over him. “should we, like, head to your car? I’m freezing. I’ll just leave my car here because it’s— yeah.” You twist around to look at your drab little car. It’ll be fine.

He lets out a little puff of laughter, sending a cloud of frost into the air.

“Yeah, good idea. c’mon let’s go.”

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

The car ride to Jisung’s place is less awkward than your experience in the parking lot, but not by much. A comment is occasionally made about the storm, but other than that the ride is filled with silence and the steady swishing of windshield wipers.

Jisung glances at you from the corner of his eye. You’re examining the fluff on your gloves with your head down, not seeming too intrested in conversation.

Or maybe you’re uncomfortable. That would make a lot of sense.

Wincing internally at himself, Jisung draws his attention back to the road and furrows his brow, trying to remember if he’s done something wrong. Although, he supposes that being alone with, well, not a stranger— Jisung would like to think he’s at least a good aquaintance to you— but with someone you don't know too well, is enough to put anyone on edge. He has to remind himself that this was your idea.

When your contact info had popped up on his screen, interrupting his very important business (scrolling), he promptly froze, had an intense mental battle on how he should answer, dropped his phone, picked it back up again, and hit answer, all in the span of about four seconds.

Jisung has to admit he does have a slight thing for you. Well okay, maybe a big thing. Like, he has your class schedule and favorite study spot memorized kind of big. Also you wear your hair up on Tuesdays.

But thats besides the point really.

After what feels like a lifetime of driving and the occasional buzzing of muted christmas music playing through the radio, you two finally arrive at Jisung’s place.

It’s nicer than you had expected. The house is dimly lit, but perfectly tidy. Best of all, it’s warm. Behind you, Jisung’s keys jingle as he hangs them up next to the door.

“Uh, make yourself at home, okay? There’s instant ramen, some milk… actually, that’s about it but hey, at least there’s ramen.” He beckons you in, tugging his scarf off while smiling ruefully at the lack of food options to offer.

“That’s okay, I believe in instant ramen supremacy,” you state confidently, earning a laugh from Jisung as you follow him into the kitchen, resting your weight on the counter.

“A woman after my own heart I see,” He jokes, closing his eyes and placing a hand dramatically over his heart. His knuckles are still flushed pink from the cold.

If only he knew.

You can feel the awkward tension from earlier start to melt away now that you’re here. Thank God, because you were seriously considering going back to your car and just waiting out the night there. You couldn’t do that though. Jisung was so willing to help, coming as soon as you had called. Which is kind of crazy, if you stop to think about it for a second. Going out of your way to drive out in a snowstorm and picking someone up on Christmas Eve would be absolutely out of the question for most people, let alone someone you aren’t even close with.

Jisung is busying himself with running some warm water in the kitchen. He rests one elbow on the counter, testing the water tempature. You find yourself watching his movements, how he runs a hand through his hair, the dark strands dampening with the moisture from his hand, and how his eyebrows pinch in concentration until the tempature is just right. Jisung seems more comfortable and relaxed now that he’s here. He’s not a tall man, by any stretch of the imagination, but his confident demeanor makes his presence seem much larger.

Running his chilled hands underneath the warm faucet to bring the warmth back, Jisung looks to the window. You blink and follow suit. Fortunately, he hadn’t caught you staring.

“Holy shit, we must have made it here just in time,” He laughs incredulously, shutting off the sink and shaking the rest of the dampness from his hands.

The window is completely engulfed in white.

Outside, the wind angrily laments that you’re inside and safe. You can’t imagine being stuck out there in that, alone. Just the thought of it makes your insides churn with a strange mixture of anxiety and relief, and you realize that you haven’t even thanked Jisung yet for saving your sorry ass. You open your mouth, but the words seem to dry up on your tongue.

Jisung tilts his head at you, questioning.

“No for real, I haven’t seen a snow this crazy in a while,” Running your hand along the cool countertop, you fix your eyes on an unlit candle to the left of Jisung’s form. Why can’t you just say thank you? It’s not that hard, yet you find yourself avoiding the two simple words like the plauge.

A beat of silence falls over the two of you, but this time it’s comfortable. There’s no rush or pressure to say anything, just a quiet presence while gazing out at the bright sheet that blankets the night.

⋆⁺₊❅ ⁺₊❆⋆

You have an idea.

Is it a good idea? Probably not, but it’s an idea nonetheless.

While you had been absentmindedly thumbing through your Pinterest homepage in an attempt to pass time, you came across a recipe. And not just any recipe, it’s a sugar cookie recipe in the likeness of a snowman. With a little face on it.

The tantalizing image stirrs your sweet tooth, and you glance over at Jisung on the other side of the couch. He seems to be putting an obviously large amount of distance between the two of you, as the entire middle section of the couch remains empty with you and Jisung perched on either side.

“Hey, so… are you any good at baking?”

Jisung’s head jerks up at your question.

“Uhhh. I plead the fifth.”

You find yourself grinning.

“How about this, do you like baking?”

“Now that. Is a different story.” His knees spread apart as he adjusts his position on the couch, slouching lower and crossing his arms across his chest. He looks at you sideways. “What, did you have something in mind?”

You definitely do have something in mind, and it doesn't have anything to do with baking.

“Hear me out,” you point your phone screen at Jisung, who leans in to squint at it. “we make christmas cookies. In the shape of snowmen.”

“You know what, hell yeah. Nothing better to do,” Jisung stretches his arms towards the ceiling, hands balling up into fists. Your wandering eyes betray you, and you can’t help but notice the little sliver of smooth skin that peeks out from where his shirt slides up as he stretches. He needs to stop being so casually sexy right now or you might go crazy. “Cross your fingers though, ‘cause I dunno if I have any eggs.”

⋆⁺₊❅ ⁺₊❆⋆

Currently standing in a neat line across the countertop are all the gathered ingredients necessary for the cookies. Jisung had miraculously acquired two eggs from the depths of his fridge, which now sit next to the flour, and you had spent a good five minutes opening and closing cabinets in search of all the dry ingredients.

You’ve baked a couple of times before. Granted, the first time the cookies were still soft in the middle and the second time may or may not have involved the fire department, but third time’s the charm right? You’re determined to make and eat these cookies.

Next to you, Jisung is staring at the ingredients, hands on his hips. Seemingly at a loss, he looks over to you for instructions.

“Okay, step one: combine the dry ingredients…”

So far, so good. Jisung was put in charge of the flour mixture, while you had started the task of creaming the butter and sugar together.

When you glance up to check on Jisung after a bit, you find him leveling out a scoop of flour, meticulously brushing any stray lumps of powder off of the top with a butter knife. His eyes squint in concentration until he is satisfied with the measurement, proceeding to dump it into the bowl. A faint cloud of white powder dusts the air.

You watch him with amusement as he scoops another cup out of the flour bag, starting the whole process over again.

He must have felt you staring, because his head darts up, eyes finding yours. You quickly duck your head back towards your work.

You wonder if Jisung is a perfectionist with most things in his life. He’s mentioned before that he writes and produces music, you figure that has a certain degree of perfectionism to it. Then again, during the car ride here your feet were resting on several bags of fast food from various restaurants. Maybe his perfectionism is selective.

The undeveloped batter clings to the mixer as you switch it off and pull it out of the bowl. You swipe a finger over one of the whisks and pop it in your mouth. It might just be sugar and butter, but hey, that shit’s good.

Turning your head to offer Jisung a taste, you let out a gasp of surprise upon realizing that he’s standing right behind you. He leans forward, lowkey trapping you between him and the counter as he crosses an arm around you to scoop up some of the mixture from the edge of the bowl. Your breath catches at his proximity. His warm breath brushes againt your neck, causing a shiver to run up your spine.

He draws away, licking his finger while you remain frozen in place. What happened to him keeping a good distance from you? You don’t think he even realizes what he just did, because he just strolls on back to his little station, quietly humming a tune as he goes.

⋆⁺₊❅ ⁺₊❆⋆

As soon as the oven door slams shut, Jisung is immediately squatted in front of it, dutifully watching the uniform balls of dough through the yellow tint of the oven light.

“You know those will take, like, thirteen minutes to cook, right?” Leaning over the countertop, you raise an eyebrow at his crouched form.

“Thirteen? No way. I’ll basically be dead by then.” Jisung stands up, brushing some of the remaining flour off his pants. That’s when you notice a patch of white just above his left eyebrow. How did that even happen?

You step forward without thinking, reaching up to rub the spot off with your thumb. His skin is ridiculously soft, and you find your treacherous fingers lingering for probably longer than was strictly necessary.

Jisung’s eyes are twice as wide as normal as you pull your hand away. He blinks at you and swallows, causing his throat to bob up and down.

Oh so now he’s flustered. You’re beginning to think your little crush is reciprocated after all.

Momentarily confident, you send him a sweet smile.

“That’s better.”

Jisung doesn't say anything in return, but you don't think you’re imagining the slight red tint to his ears.

Three loud beeps announce that the cookies have completed their oven time and are now ready to be taken out and consumed.

Jisung arms himself with oven mitts and carefully slides the cookie tray out of the oven and onto the potholders that you had placed on the countertop a few minutes prior.

They look good. Like, really good. You can feel your mouth starting to water.

“Holy shit, I think we actually did it! Thank God they didn't catch on fire this time,” you exclaim, poking one experimentally with a finger.

Jisung’s eyebrows fly up and he shoots you a bewildered look.

“I thought you said you could cook??”

“Hey now, I never said that…”

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

Throughout the night, you have become painfully aware of the fact that you are wearing jeans.

Thankfully, since you were heading to your family’s house anyways, you have an entire suitcase packed with the works. Your comfy pajamas from last year are sounding really good right now.

Jisung is propped up on the corner of the couch with a cookie in one hand and his phone in the other. His cheeks are stuffed with probably half of said cookie right now, making him look like some sort of rodent. It’s cute.

You need to ask him where his bathroom is to change, but you find yourself hesitating. Jisung looks up at you with a confused expression and a cookie crumb clinging to his cheek.

Realizing that you’re just looming over the side of his couch ominously, you are quick to blurt out your question.

“Do you know where the bathroom is?”

Goddamnit. Of course he knows where his own fucking bathroom is. What kind of question is that?

Jisung, luckily, seems to have found it amusing, his eyes squinting up as he lets out a hearty laugh. Which almost, almost, makes up for the fact that you just asked the stupidest question in the history of mankind. It doesn’t stop your cheeks from heating up though.

“Yeah, I think it’s down the hallway to the left,”

He’s playing along. You wonder if he has any idea how much better that makes you feel as you break into a wide smile and thank him, scurrying off to go grab your…

Suitcase.

Your suitcase. Where was it? You don’t remember bringing it to Jisung’s place, where could it be? Did you- oh. You remember your dingy little car, sitting out there in the gas station parking lot. Your dingy little car that happened to have your suitcase in it.

Sometimes you surprise yourself, because how can one be this much of a mess? Everything has gone wrong tonight, and now this? You couldn’t even make it to your family’s house to surprise them. The weight of it all is beginning to crush you, forcing tears to well up in your eyes.

Stopping in the hallway around the corner, out of Jisung’s eyeshot, you shove your impending emotions down your throat, the roughness of the wall against your fist keeping you steady. You are not going to cry right now. You’ll find a solution. You just need to calm down first. Closing your eyes, you take in deep breaths, letting each exhale push you farther away from tears.

Once you’re sure you have yourself under control, you consider your options. You could ask Jisung for something to wear, or you could remain uncomfortable in your jeans for the remainder of the night. Now, you wouldn’t be upset about wearing Jisung’s clothes, not even in the slightest. They’d probably smell like him, too. How that man always smells so damn good is beyond you.

He’ll understand if you ask him for his clothes. You know he will. Hopefully, he won’t take it in the wrong way. It’s not like you want to wear his clothes, you just have to because you don’t have any other option.

Yeah no, you really just want to wear his clothes.

Rounding the corner, you expect to see Jisung on the couch only to find that he’s no longer in his spot, or in the living room, for that matter. He’s not in the kitchen either (which still has various baking supplies and smears of flour scattered about. You make a mental note to clean that up later). Huh. Maybe he went to his room. You settle down on the couch to wait for him, busying yourself with counting your knuckles.

Sock-padded footsteps cause your head to perk up in their direction. Jisung emerges from his room, closing the door behind him with his foot. His face lights up when he finds you on the couch.

“I wasn’t sure if you had brought any PJs or not, so, I grabbed some things you can wear,” He says, then seems to check himself and quickly adds, “If you want! You don’t, like, have to or anything, just thought I would offer.” In his arms he carries a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie.

You could kiss him right now.

“Oh my God, Jisung, are you sure?”

“Yeah, of course, it’s no problem at all.” He reassures you.

Jisung had offered the clothes purely out of wanting to make sure you’re comfortable. Sleeping in jeans is pretty awful and he didn’t see you bring a suitcase or anything. Maybe he also wanted to give you his clothes but that’s irrelevant.

He watches as you skip off to the bathroom to change with a newfound pep to your step. Jisung shakes his head, grinning despite himself. You’re just so damn cute.

This storm might just be the best thing that’s happened to Jisung in a while. Getting to spend time with you? And on Christmas Eve no less. If you’d have told him that yesterday, he wouldn't have believed it one bit. It’s like all his prayers have been answered.

He finds himself wondering, what were your plans before you called him for help? Are you upset that you’re here, at his place, instead of wherever you were heading to? Jisung hopes not. As much as he’s happy you’re here to keep him company, he can’t help but worry about how you’re feeling about the situation.

As if on cue, you appear once again at the entrance to the hallway. This time though, you’re all cozyed up in his clothes.

Jisung’s eyes widen as he takes in the sight of you. The sweats nearly swallow your feet whole, and his hoodie— which is oversized in the first place—fits almost comically large on your frame; hanging off of one shoulder.

It’s not the exposed shoulder that gets him necessarily, this isn’t the 19th century, it’s the fact that you’re in his clothes and in his house.

He swallows.

“You look- you, uh, yeah. You look good. Warm?”

Jisung’s reaction tells you all you need to know. You laugh in response.

“Mhm! Add this to the list of things I definitely owe you for,”

“Pshh, nah don’t even worry about it, i’m happy to help,” Jisung figures that if he doesn’t look at you too hard, he’ll be able to keep his brain from short-circuiting. “Do you want to watch a movie or something?” Sparing a careful glance back up at you, he pats the couch to back up his offer.

The couch dips as you plop down next to him, sporting that smile of yours that has him weak. You had looked so distraught just a couple of minutes ago, and just the simple act of him offering his clothes and a movie had brought your spirits right up. Cute.

Jisung rests his chin on his hand and listens as you lay out your christmas movie options, but he’s only half-paying attention. He knows that he’ll enjoy whatever movie you choose, as long as you’re there to watch it with him.

He also knows that he’s probably more than a little bit head over heels for you.

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

The smell of freshly-microwaved popcorn fills the room as you and Jisung take your respective places on the couch, the silent agreement apparently being to keep at least a foot between your bodies at all times

You settle in and get comfortable while the opening credits roll across the screen. Jisung is tossing some popcorn in his mouth, having already eaten nearly half of his bag. You get the feeling that he’s going to be asking to steal some of your popcorn sooner or later.

Even with him being a foot away, you are hyper-aware of his presence. The movie is starting, but you know there’s no way you are going to able to maintain any sort of attention span with Jisung sitting right there.

Still facing towards the screen, you sneak a quick look at him from the corner of your eye, only to find his eyes already trained on you.

The unexpected eye contact makes your heart jump to your throat, and you quickly jerk your gaze back to the television.

Why was he looking at you? Is he still looking? You consider turning again to check, but then decide against it, preferring to live in ignorance for the time being. You’re not sure you can deal with knowing he’s looking at you right now.

Not even ten minutes into the movie, a particularly loud whistle of wind rushes past the windows. The lights flicker once. And then again.

Fuck.

You barely have time to turn and look at a now wide-eyed Jisung before both of you are plunged into absolute darkness.

A small yelp of terror escapes from Jisung, and you feel his weight shift on the couch.

Blinking rapidly as though that would make the lights magically turn back on, you find yourself scooting towards Jisung. A heartbeat of silence passes, with only the sound of your and Jisung’s soft breaths cutting through the darkness.

“The power’s out,” He observes helpfully, voice noticably higher than it’s normal tenor.

“No shit.” You pull out your phone to turn on the flashlight, illuminating your faces. Jisung squeezes his eyes shut at the sudden intrusion of light, peeking one eye open at you after a moment.

The light reveals that he is a lot closer than you had thought. Barely an inch of space was left between your legs, and you swear you can feel warmth radiating off of him. Huh. That little mole on his face is visible from here.

Jisung swallows hard (apparently a habit of his) and quickly combs a hand through his hair, pulling himself up from the couch.

“Hold on, I think I have a candle somewhere,” He still looks a bit frazzled, but heads towards the kitchen nonetheless.

You turn and cross your arms over the back of the couch, illuminating his path.

“You do, it’s on the counter,” You point at it, having noticed it earlier when you’d first arrived. “‘Spiced apple toddy’, huh?”

You grin at the offended look on Jisung’s face as he approaches, candle and lighter in hand.

“Hey! They’re seasonal,” he objects to your teasing, placing the candle on the coffee table.

T he lighter sparks into a flame as Jisung drops back down on the couch and lights the candle, bathing your surroundings in a soft, warm light.

Well. So much for the Christmas movie.

“That sucks, I really wanted to see what was going to happen to Frosty this year,” Jisung mirrors your thoughts with a sigh, crossing one ankle over his leg and shaking his head with a tsk.

You giggle, giving him a light shove on the shoulder. In the back of your mind, you feel like you should be upset about yet another thing going wrong tonight. But how could something be wrong, really, when Jisung is smiling like that. Smiling like that because of you. The thought ignites little butterflies in your stomach.

The power doesn't seem to have any plans to turn on again anytime soon, so you and Jisung break out a deck of cards. Turns out he’s a big trash talker when it comes to competition, which has you laughing your head off at the creative insults he throws at you. Seriously, how does he come up with these?

After losing your third game of speed, you realize that goosebumps have began to form all up and down your arms. Not wanting Jisung to notice, you try to smooth them down as nonchalantly as possible.

Of course, he immediately notices.

“Are you cold?” He furrows his eyebrows in concern, drawing his attention away from his hand of cards to you.

“Nope!” A shiver decides that it’s the right moment to shake your whole body. “Okay maybe a little,” you admit, “but I’m totally fine, it’s not bad at all.”

In all honesty, that was a complete lie. It’s cold as shit. You just hope your smile is enough to distract from your clenched teeth and slightly runny nose.

Jisung raises an eyebrow at you skeptically, obviously not buying it.

“So I guess if I got a blanket, you wouldn't want it, right?”

“Hey, thats not-” you start to protest to him poking fun at you, but your confidence shrivels when Jisung places his cards on the table, batting his eyes at you in mock attention.

It’s flustering, to say the least. He directly offered you the solution to your discomfort, and didn’t really leave you with the choice to say no. Which, you decide, is kinda hot. That seems to describe most of what Jisung does, though.

You drop your hands down on the table in defeat. “Fine. Can I please have a blanket?”

As a response to your request, Jisung simply hoists himself up once more, tapping you twice on the top of the head as he passes.

“Attagirl.”

The sideways grin he flashes you tells you that he knows exactly the effect that that little word had on your insides.

He’s going to be the death of you.

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

You had just barely managed to compose yourself when Jisung returns with not one, not two, but an entire armful of blankets. In favor of just dropping them all on the couch, he decides to launch both himself and the blankets onto the couch simultaniously. His legs fly up behind him as he lands belly-down onto the pile of blankets, face buried in the soft fabric.

Whether he’s trying to draw out a laugh or not, you bark out a laugh that’s probably louder than the situation called for. You slap a hand over your mouth in embarrassment as he lifts himself up to sit on the empty cushion of the couch.

It’s intresting, the way he moves. Every motion so natural, every curve so perfect, it traps your attention to him like a moth to a flame. His muscles are lean, tensing when he pushes himself up. You follow the lightest trace of a vein trailing down from his bicep to his hand, absentmindedly wondering how his hand would feel in yours. Wondering if he would ever so lightly run his fingers over the back of your hand, your collarbone, your jaw…

“So do you want a blanket or what?” Jisung waves his hand, snapping you out of your head. You hope he hadn’t noticed the way you were essentially ogling him just now. He most likely had though, given how annoyingly observant he’s proven to be.

The corners of Jisung’s mouth quirk up, a witheld laugh brimming behind his eyes. Okay scratch that, he definitely noticed.

Too humiliated to say anything, you take a seat next to him and toss a blanket over your head. The outside noises dim significantly from under the shelter of the blanket. The blanket that— unfortunately for you and your creative imagination— smells quite strongly of Jisung. You find yourself having to refrain from burying your face in the cloth. Because that would be weird.

It’s warm at least. Staying here forever sounds like a good plan.

A wave of fresh, cool air washes over you as the edge of the blanket lifts up to reveal Jisung peeking in at you.

“May I join you?”

You nod, hoping the darkness will conceal your flushed face. Jisung scootches to sit next to you and flicks the blanket back over both of your forms. Darkness encases you once more, only this time you aren’t alone.

Jisung’s phone light shines out, lighting up your faces in such a way that makes you think he might break into some cheesy horror story; the kind that you were genuinely terrified of in second grade.

He’s close. Like, really close. You could count his eyelashes if you wanted.

His eyes crinkle slightly as he gives you a little close-mouthed smile. He looks so lovely right now, you can’t help but smile right back at him. Except your smile definitely isn't lovely since you’re cheesing so hard.

When he chuckles, a breath of warm air puffs over your face, making you warmer than you think you’ve ever been.

Despite being a good bodily temprature already, the urge to wrap your arms around Jisung and bask in his physical presence is getting stronger by the second.

“I’m still cold.” The words tumble from your mouth before you can stop them, such a blatant untruth that it makes your heart speed up.

Jisung’s head drops, shoulders bouncing slightly with silent laughter.

As if your ears couldn't get any hotter than they were already.

“Still cold, huh? You know what’s crazy?” He leans in just a touch further as if about to tell you some great secret, his voice quieting almost to a whisper. “Me too.”

Jisung arm wraps around your shoulders, and he turns you sideways, pulling you flush to him. How you seem to fit perfectly in the curve of his side, you’ll never know. Resting your head down on his shoulder and tentatively reaching a hand up to curl on his chest, you let out a breath you didn't even know you were holding. His heartbeat pounds in your ear, slower than your own jumping pulse, but much louder.

Wrapped in Jisung’s arms, you are definitely warmer than before. Which—since you really weren’t cold in the first place— has you sweating, the space under the blanket suddenly feeling small and suffocating.

You toss the top of the blanket off of your heads, inhaling the cold, crisp air now available to your lungs.

You’re not sure what comes over you. maybe it was the way that he tilts his head back to lean on the back of the couch, or maybe it was the little sigh he lets out, his breath just barely visible in the chilled air surrounding you. The hand that’s gently rubbing up and down your upper arm definitely isn't helping either.

You reach up and plant a chaste kiss to his cheek.

Jisung instantly tenses under you, every muscle tightening. You pull back to look at him, finding him frozen, staring straight ahead. a gorgeous pink tint graces his cheeks.

Always so confident until he’s the one being flirted with. Cute.

He’s silent and still for just a hint too long, and you start to get worried. Did you read the energy wrong? Was he just being nice?

You open your mouth to blurt out some sort of apology, but Jisung turns his head to look at you, eyes wide, searching your own. Your mouth snaps shut.

“Can you do that again?” His request is quiet and mumbled, nervousness evident in the way his knee starts to bounce up and down rapidly.

You reach up to grab his chin, his skin soft beneath your fingers. He’s real. He’s here and under your fingertips, gazing at you like you hung the moon.

You lean in, but pause to hover just millimeters away from his lips, your breaths mingling in the space between.

It’s not until Jisung makes a noise in his throat that is somewhere between a huff and a whine that you close the final distance between you two.

A white-hot flame ignites in your stomach when your mouths connect, only blazing brighter when Jisung runs his hand up the length of your back to rest it on the back of your head, holding you softly but firmly to him.

He wants you, everything about you. And you want him too, you always have.

When you part, you let out a breathless giggle. What just happened?

It seems as though Jisung is feeling the same way, a look of disbelief of his face as his eyes flick between your own.

“Thank you.” The two words that you’ve been skirting around all night finally slip past your lips.

“For what, the kiss? Anytime, babe.” He sends you an over-exaggerated wink, which of course doesn’t go unnoticed by you, but it is drowned out by the slightly more pressing fact that he just called you ‘babe’.

Not that you mind. At all, actually.

“First of all, I’m the one who gave you the kiss, thank you very much, and secondly I just- well, it just means, y’know, a lot to me that you picked me up… and stuff…” You wince as your confidence audibly dwindles, looking at the couch beside him, “So yeah, thank you. So much. I don’t know what I would have done without you tonight.”

“Hey, hey,” He brings your chin back up to look at him. “Seriously, it was no trouble at all. To be honest, I was so not looking forward to being alone on Christmas eve.” His gaze lightens, “So really, I should be thanking you because this is probably the best thing that could have happened to me.”

His genuine words paired with that soft look on his face make you realize that you wouldn’t rather be anywhere else or with anyone else tonight.

For the nth time tonight, you smile.

[zosan-secondchances]

The Pirate King of the North: Part 9

Bonus panels for some extra backstory.

Main Themes: Villain Sanji, Alternate Universe, Zosan Ship

Warning: Long post ahead with One Piece spoilers. Contains strong language and explicit content.

Part 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9

That night, the swordsman makes a last minute decision to rectify things with the blonde. He figured that there's no point in delaying as this might be the only chance they get to talk one-on-one before they get stuck in Skypiea with Law for however long they need to be up there. Since his cocktail-making skills are apparently subpar at best, he thought he'd turn to doing something else that he hopes Sanji would like before he pops the question–about the name, he reminds himself. Whatever it is, it will need to be something incredible to make up for the shame of not knowing something so simple about the man after all the years they’ve known together.

He thinks about quickly jumping off to collect some flowers in Jaya’s South Grove, but he is met by Jean Bart who drags his sorry feet back inside. The large man assigned himself on “Zoro duty”, not wanting the Warlord to get lost the night before he needed to depart with their captain. Apparently they had pissed him off enough already that day.

Zoro turns to the kitchen to try and find Sanji's favourite snacks, and maybe sneak away with a couple bottles of wine to help set the mood. Unfortunately he bumped into Hakugan and Uni who are guarding the door, ready to strike him down should he set foot inside the room. They give him a powerful performance of their martial arts prowess as a gentle reminder that he's banned from the place, warning him that they’re not afraid to put their lives on the line to enforce Law’s rules. When he tried to ask for their assistance to go and fetch what he needed, they both turned him away, thinking that he's just trying to distract them so he can do whatever evil thing he apparently was set out to do.

His last option was the library. He’s not much of a reader but he figured he would try because he knew of Sanji’s love for knowledge and books. He wants to read a story or two with him to see if that’s something they would enjoy doing together. Sadly, when he arrives, he is met by the Grand Line’s most impatient doctor who is currently studying the Skypiea map with Bepo at the polar bear’s drafting table, trying to come up with a plan of action for when they get there in the morning. Not wanting to be distracted or have the library wrecked the way Zoro did with the kitchen, Law used his Room ability to teleport him out of there before he could even get a chance to grab something off the shelves.

Having no other options left, Zoro resorts to the idea of giving the blonde mind-blowing sex. He would worship him like the king he is and he would do it all night if the other man demanded it so. The swordsman figured it's probably the safest bet anyway while they’re in the early honeymoon phase of their relationship. Sanji is highly skilled in that area for a very good reason.

He makes his way to their bunkroom. Under the door, he sees that the dim light of the desk lamp is still on. Finally, things are looking up. He thinks to himself that now’s the perfect chance to make a move while Sanji is probably still up reading at this hour as usual.

Until he hears a couple of familiar voices on the other side of the door. They were muffled, but their identities were clear.

Sanji

…Are you sure that you're okay? I don't know how effective it is with the front broken like that.

Niji

Dunno. It's like…having mood swings. The sensation goes in and out. It's a bit weird.

Sanji

I need you to get it fixed first then. And while you're at it, drop off the new stones at the lab.

I'm not sending you in until you're all good.

Niji

I can still fight.

Sanji

I'm not letting you take the risk until your helmet’s fixed, Niji. That's my final word. You’re on your own with this next mission and I need you to be able to make good calls.

Another pang of guilt hits the swordsman–for not being careful enough and wrecking the commander’s helmet, and for eavesdropping for as long as he has so far. He starts walking backwards, and was about to turn his heel and move somewhere else to give them privacy when Sanji’s voice pierced through the door.

Sanji

Hey, Mosshead! Don't be a creep and get in here.

Zoro flinches, and silently curses the blonde’s mastery of his observation haki. He doesn't want to make things look worse than it already is so he opens the door awkwardly. He's met by two pairs of eyes.

Sanji is leaning with his palms against the desk while Niji is sitting on the chair, fiddling with the blonde's claw gauntlet on the table. It looks like there's two now. From afar, Zoro could tell that their blades are longer, sharper and more dangerous than the last. The metallic scale armour that covered the glove is a new addition, having only just durable leather holding everything together before.

Niji

Spying on us, are we?

Zoro grits his teeth, throwing the blue-haired man an annoyed look.

Sanji

This is also his room, Commander.

Niji tuts disapprovingly then resumes his work on the claw gauntlet.

Zoro

I didn't want to interrupt. I’ll just head out for some fresh air.

Sanji

You didn't interrupt anything. The commander was just showing me his handiwork. He’ll be done soon! I just needed a couple of fitting adjustments done and we’re all set.

Niji

Hmm… no. Now that I think about it, this will take a bit longer than I thought. 

Sanji

What? But you said–

Niji

Whoops.

As if done on purpose, a buckle disassembles itself in Niji’s hands. Little bits of metal scatter on the desk.

Sanji

You’re such an ass. Fine. Stay here, hog the room. I don’t care. Let’s go, Marimo.

Niji

No, I need you to stay here so we can refit it. Because the buckle’s broken now.

Sanji

You broke it!

Niji

And I need to fix it but I can only do that if you’re here. So, stay.

Sanji

I will actually pluck your eyeballs out one of these days, Commander.

Sanji stomps out the door, grabbing Zoro’s arm along the way.

Niji

Where are you going? We need to get this done tonight before you head off first thing!

Sanji

I’ll be back!

Zoro and Sanji walk arm-in-arm quietly to the deck of the ship. They were met by Jean Bart who was about to tell off Zoro for being outside, but the blonde reassured the large man that he has eyes on him, promising to keep the grumbling swordsman out of trouble. Happy with the response, the Heart Pirate retires inside for the night.

Zoro

Isn’t the whole point of me being here is to keep an eye on you?

Sanji chuckled heartily–music to the swordsman’s ears.

Sanji

I know. What the hell happened to us?

They proceeded to the bow of the ship and settled themselves against the railing. It was quiet and serene. The crescent moon is up, revealing the dark silhouette of Jaya island on the horizon. Above, stars shone brightly across the span of the night sky–its reflections twinkled playfully on the still waters of the ocean below.

Sanji

You’re awfully quiet.

Zoro tears his gaze away from the scene. He looks next to him where the blonde has a hand wrapped around his arm and finishing a cigarette with the other.

Sanji

You usually are, but your silence is…louder somehow.

The swordsman rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. Suddenly he’s not so sure what to say and how he’d ask the big question. He wanted to get this far tonight–tried many times to set up the scene better but to no avail. He also didn’t realise how he would feel right in the thick of things.

Zoro

There’s been a lot in my mind. Sorry.

Sanji

Never apologise for that…but whatever it is, I could tell that it’s eating you up.

Zoro sighs and returns his gaze to the island on the horizon.

Sanji

Is this because you had a fight with my brother?

Zoro’s eyebrows shoot up.

Zoro

Did he–?

Sanji

He didn’t have to. His helmet's busted and don’t think I haven’t noticed your little injury on your forehead, damn Mosshead. If you don’t take care of your head, how will you be able to photosynthesize?

Zoro scowls at the mockery.

Sanji laughs lightly, kissing the swordsman on the cheek as a way of reassuring him that it’s just a joke. After noticing that his attempt to release the tension didn’t work, he speaks in a slightly more serious tone.

Sanji

Did he try to scare you away? Is that why you’ve been avoiding me all night?

Zoro shakes his head.

Sanji

Don’t freak out or anything but… you’re not the first that he’s done that to. I can tell him to back off if you want.

Zoro

No… it’ll take a lot more than that to get me to leave your side, Curls.

The blonde’s expression softens.

Zoro

Though, I didn’t mean to make you feel like I was trying to avoid you. I spent hours… ages… trying to plan this whole thing for us tonight but I feel like whatever I do…

The swordsman gets flashbacks of all the times he’d slashed and stabbed the man. He remembers cursing his way repeatedly for attempting to propose to him for the umpteenth time. He recalls their first kiss–how the first thing that came out of his mouth was to tell him to not kill the Celestial Dragon, and because of that, it nearly cost him his life. In fact, he might have permanently if not for their skillful doctor. He remembers the way the blonde held onto the liberated family from Sabaody. How, even in his critical condition, he fought from fully succumbing into sleep just to make sure that everyone was okay as they fled from the Pacifistas. 

And now, with a seemingly easy task of organising a romantic night, the swordsman can’t even do such a simple thing for him.

Zoro clenches his fists against the wooden railing.

Zoro

I can’t seem to do anything right by you…. I just feel like everything that I do is not good enough–or just flat out hurts you. And right now, I have nothing but myself to offer. For whatever that's worth.

Sanji

Zoro…

Zoro shifts so he’s looking at Sanji face to face then holds both of his hands in his, making the other man drop his cigarette. The determined fiery look in his eye makes the blonde jump in surprise.

Zoro

Curls, I want to get to know you better.

Sanji

Uh–sure!

Zoro

What’s your favourite food?

Sanji

Uhm… let’s see…

Zoro

If you had all the money in the world, where would you go?

Sanji

Oh Mellorine, I do have all the mon–

Zoro

How long does it take to get there?

Is that where you want to go for our first date?

Is shopping your thing? I'm not good with that stuff but I could ask Nami or Robin for advice.

If we’re going on holiday, can we do it alone first or would you prefer bringing your family along?

How many kids do you want to have?

Sanji

MARIMO!

Sanji thinks that he’s about to go crazy. His face is all red, he feels hot up to his ears and his heart is pounding so much like it's going to burst out of his chest. The swordsman’s sweetness and thoughtfulness overwhelms him with joy. He starts laughing out loud–in a way that he’s never laughed before, ignoring the slight ache from his recent surgery. He thinks that if he breaks stitches this way, so be it, because he’s never felt his chest so light and heart so full. He felt so happy that he could fly. 

The swordsman looked confused and offended from all the unhinged laughter like he was being made fun of.

Sanji cups Zoro’s face into his hands, trying his best to recover from his outburst.

Sanji

I didn’t realise that you needed to know everything now!

Zoro looks down to his lips, watching that attractive smile that he’s always drawn to.

Zoro

I just… I really wanted to… to…

Sanji pulls him in to claim his mouth with his. He pushes Zoro roughly against the railing, determined to show the swordsman how much he appreciates him at that very moment. He slides his hand up and down the man’s body, massaging, caressing and feeling everything that he could lay his hands on. He wants to show his love and admiration to the man by worshipping every part of him. Zoro was more than happy to reciprocate the affection.

They stayed like that for what seemed like a lifetime. Regrettably, Sanji pulls himself away from the most passionate kiss he's ever had in his life so he could breathe. He kept his body close as he panted.

Zoro leans in and continues his assault on his lips–biting and sucking hard then giving them soothing licks to ease the arousing pain–not wanting for everything to stop so soon. Between breaths, the blonde speaks.

Sanji

We have our entire lives to get to know one another…. What’s your rush, Marimo?

Zoro freezes at that, blinking his eye. Then for the first time that night, he smiles his genuine toothy smile.

Zoro

I guess we do, don’t we?

Sanji scoops up one of his rough hands and gives it a tender kiss on the calloused knuckles.

Sanji

I want to savour every moment of this–of us, okay? Right now, it’s just you, me… and this.

Sanji gestures at the scene in front of them, then swings his hand around to point out the environment surrounding them–the bright moon, the calm waters and the clear starry skies.

Sanji

Nothing else matters.

Zoro looks into his wide blue eyes. They're positively glowing a lot more so than usual tonight. He wraps his arms around the man and leans his forehead on his, kissing the bridge of his nose. The blonde was correct–nothing else mattered. It felt right to be there. In his heart, he decides to make it a mission to spend every waking moment to prove that he's worthy of his trust, even if it takes a lifetime for him to open up and tell him his real name. He would not demand it that day. He thinks that if he truly deserved it, the blonde will share it to him in time at his own volition. They do have a lifetime to get to know one another, after all.

The swordsman had lost a gamble with Nami that night. He’ll have to remember to send the navigator a couple hundred Beri through the post somehow for betting on him falling in love that year.

—

At a far distance, hidden in the thick mist of the sea, a particularly tall and lanky Warlord watches the blonde and his green-haired companion through the lens of his spyglass. With a flick of his wrist, he retracts the telescope and tosses it to a dark silhouette of a man.

Stranger

Now's the perfect time. Let’s do it.

Doflamingo

Hmm…no. I want to savour… every… moment of this….

He lets out a deep chuckle. 

Doflamingo

Besides, I have another job for you. But that’s tomorrow’s problem.

You are dismissed.

He waves off the man, and the figure walks off. Doflamingo stands from the comfort of his chair and takes a few long strides to the bow of the ship, never taking his eyes off the small dot on the horizon that is the Polar Tang.

Doflamingo

I’m grateful you showed us the way, Pirate King. You never fail me, do you?

…Sanji.

----------

I had way too much fun with those panel drawings. (Honestly part of it was me trying to find an excuse to draw more dofsan lol)

If it's not obvious yet, I try to line up certain things about this Sanji and canon Sanji. Instead of him being exclusively in love with mermaids, I like to think he loves all merfolk in this story.

Fukaboshi's always been the one on my mind as Sanji's "the one who got away" romance. I was rewatching Fish-man Island arc and I remembered how wise and noble he is, and has a great sense of responsibility to look after his family. I figured this Sanji would be attracted to those qualities.

Plus, you know, have you seen those big hands? Fwah~!

[icarusredwings]

Thinking about how fast logans hair grows and how naturally thick and shiny it is (lucky fuck) and while it started as something small, Wade mentioning how fluffy it is when tuffed out.

"Guess you're gonna cut it then?"

But his voice is kind of hoping he doesn't. It's not hard to tell either. Wade can't hide his adoration for Logan. He's never been able too. (And probably never will)

"Mmh.. Nah." Is all his says, but the brightness in Wade's eyes is everything.

He lets Wade take care of it. He lets him completely groom him, wash him, condition it, oil it, braid it, try different looks on him, like blowouts and curls. It makes him wonder how he knows these things. I mean, he's bald.

But he wasn't always bald, right? Duh. Vanessa mentions something about him doing her hair sometimes, helping her curl it and would help put her curlers in, etc.

It makes him wonder why he doesn't have an actual set. Why doesn't he get one glued or professionally put in. Cancer patiants got fake hair all the time, so what was the problem? It's not like they didn't have enough cash to pay for an installation.

As it gets longer, Wade is obsessed, showing it off and bragging how beautiful he is. He likes to drag his fingers through it, pull on it COUGH, pet him.

And don't get me wrong, Logan doesn't mind much, but it's getting a little too long than he likes. So much so that Gabby has started joking that Laura and him look the same. This isn't his issue, though. The problem is that it's touching his back in a way that makes him feel like someone is touching him. The curls at the ends brushing against his shoulder blades and makes his body hair raise from sensory.

Logan tilts his head, laying on the couch with Wade on his chest watching some trash tv.

".. Im gonna cut my hair later."

"What?"

"It's too long for me." He says.

"Oh... okay." Who was wade to tell him what to do with his body? Esspecially when he was engaged to a stripper. It would be hypocritical.

Before Logan leaves, Wade blows him a kiss. "Bye bye beautiful."

"Heh. Thanks."

"I was talking to those lushious locks, but you too gorgeous."

Logan rolls his eyes, scoffing softly, but stops.

"Change your mind?"

".... you were jealous of other yous hair... why don't you... you know?"

Wade blinks. "...well... wolvie.. when a daddy cancer and a mommy cancer-"

"That's not what I meant. I mean.. they have hair that you can glue on, right? Or.. does this universe not have that?"

"It does. I just... feels weird. You know? Itchy. And hurts. And.."

"You don't have to explain. So.. do you like clips or something??"

"...whyy?" He asks, becoming skeptical.

"Nothing.. just curious." Logan mumbled, leaving ".. Bye."

"See ya 'just curious'."

____

When he finally does return to the apartment, his kitty ears are clean, leaving his hair a bit thicker than when they met but not long enough to surpass his ears or chin.

From the kitchen, Wade whistles. "Well, Hello, sailor! Where's my husband? Whos this hot tom cat?"

Logan blushes, embaressed. Keeping his hand behind his back as he hugged him when glomped out of excitment. It wasn't uncommon for Wade to do this. To kiss the shit out of him when he got home, but the way he pulled at his lapels made him chuckle, pulling away.

"Okay okay, wait wait. I got something for you."

"Clip ins?" He asks, gasping softly and lit up when presented with a small box. "Oooh!! Presents! Peanut you shouldn't have!"

He shrugs. "Yeah.. well.. you liked it too much to not."

Pausing, Wade stares up at him with a sparkle in his eyes. "...You..."

Logan nods. Instantly, he begins to rip open the box, smiling widely before squealing. "Oh my god! Loagie!! Is this why you took forever? I thought you got lost on the way there or something..."

"Oh, I did, but.. that's besides the point."

"How much did these even cost to make?" He asks, looking at them fondly as he checks the quality.

"Don't worry about it. They're nice aren't they? I was actually shocked I could find someone to do it so quickly."

"Yeah! Its almost as if the writer is super lazy and didnt even research the process or how long it takes to make these! Oh- but...How am I going to wear them? You have to clip them. I can't really clip them to my scalp." Wade mutters, pouting.

Immediately, Logan frowns. "Oh shit.. I..i guess I didn't think about that. I thought you.."

Wade giggles. "I'm just kidding! Ill go clip them. I got a wig that'll look perfect with this!" He smiles, giddy as he runs away.

Logan grins, watching how excited and happy he was. Sighing, he glanced at the food Wade was starting to make, picking up where he left off.

____

"Sooo.. what do you think?"

Turning around, Logan smirks, eyes softening at the pure joy on his face. They fit perfectly into his already existing wig, making it thicker and shiny, soft and the it flowed the way real hair would.

"Ta-da!" He giggles. "And watch!!" He shakes his head around, flipping his hair and posed a few times. "I tried the halo extentions before, and they flew off! But they stay!"

"Yeah?" He asks, leaning back against the counter, so lovingly looking at the pure glitters in his excited eyes.

"Yeah!! Isn't it so cute? And its so soft!"

"And water resistant." He comments. "Soooo you like'em?"

"Yes!!! Of course I love them! And I love you." He comes to logan, hoping up as he grabs him, pulling him up to kiss him agaisnt the counter. Between kisses, giggles, groans and affectious compliments, Al crossed her arms, sitting at the table.

"Really? In front of my salad??.. nasties.."

[quintessenceofdust88]

Little Blobs, ch.3

Hi you guys! I bring to you a new chapter of Little Blobs, also avaliable on AO3! I hope you guys enjoy it! It's pretty long, so I strongly recommend you read it on AO3, but I wanted to post it here too for those who prefer it ♥

“...A stork plushie?” 

Tommy groans, sitting up in bed and blinking at Evan. His husband is lying down on his side, his hand draped over his belly as it’s become his habit in the last ten days. There’s the tiniest bump under his shirt; it’s barely noticeable, really, and they only know because they’ve been avidly looking for it ever since finding out about their blobs. But it’s there, and Tommy smiles as his hand joins Evan’s, even though he sighs exasperatedly at his husband’s idea. 

“Where exactly do you plan to find a stork plushie, Evan? And how exactly would that announce your pregnancy to your family?”

Evan shrugs, as he usually does when Tommy points flaws in ideas he thought infallible. 

“I don’t know, Amazon?” He says, and before Tommy can think of an answer, he’s already lighting up, sitting in bed with an excited smile. “C’mon, can’t you imagine it? We could put two little bundles in the beak and a plate saying ‘Special Delivery!’. It would be so cute!”

“You’re cute”, Tommy can’t help but say, placing a kiss on Evan’s cheek, and the way he blushes and smiles bashfully, even after eighteen months together, will never cease to make Tommy’s heart skip a beat. “But I don’t know, darling, sounds like a lot of work. And what if someone comes by and sees the plushie earlier? You know our friends have no boundaries, they just drop by whenever”

Evan hums thoughtfully, nodding and then dropping his head by Tommy’s shoulder, snuggling into his chest. Tommy cuddles him close, softly caressing his arm as the two of them try to think of another way to announce their babies that’s cute and not absurdly tacky. 

“How about we throw a barbecue?”, Tommy suggests after a while. “We have two weeks before we’re ready to tell, right? So we find a way to get everyone’s shifts aligned, throw a barbecue and just… tell them?”

“Hmmm, I like the idea of a barbecue”, Evan says delightedly, and Tommy snorts; in the last few days, his husband has been liking the idea of any food. 

His morning sickness is a lot more subdued, only showing up with some specific foods, and the rest of the time he’s been ravenous. And the worst part is that the cravings are starting to show up; just two days ago Evan asked Tommy to go to the market to get him coconut yogurt cause he desperately needed it. Once Tommy brought it, he had to watch Evan drop Cheetos into the yogurt and eat the concoction as if it came from a Michelin restaurant.Tommy's still not over it, and he's not sure he’ll finish this pregnancy with his sanity intact.

“So that’s what we’ll do” Tommy says, kissing his forehead. “We’ll get everyone together for a barbecue and tell them”

“Yeah, that works” Evan nods, a yawn escaping his lips, and Tommy chuckles; he hasn’t been as sleepy the last week, but is still stealing naps here and there, using Tommy as his personal pillow whenever he’s able (he tries to be able as much as possible; it’s his fatherly duty, after all). “Just us, our family, and food”

“Lots of food to feed my dragon and our baby dragons” Tommy teases, caressing Evan’s small bump, and he gets his hand batted away in retaliation. “We can convince Athena to bring that chicken salad you’ve been craving. Hen already knows, we could ask her to talk to her cake guy”, the mention of good food is enough to get Evan lighting up again, and he nods eagerly. 

“Sounds like a solid plan. I mean, what could go wrong, right?” He asks, lying down and closing his eyes as if he didn’t just drop the most famous last words in the universe.

Tommy raises an eyebrow; he’ll never understand why his husband likes to tempt fate like that.

“Sweetheart, don’t take this the wrong way, but it’s your family; there’s always a way for things to get out of track when they’re involved” He quips, lying down too, his face turned to Evan’s. 

“Well, you’re not wrong”, he concedes. “But don’t forget they’re your family too, I refuse to take the sole blame for them” 

Tommy’s heart feels warm in the best way with these words. He’s been working on feeling like he belongs, feeling accepted as part of their found family as himself, not only as ‘Buck’s plus one’. He thinks he’s making progress, but it always helps to hear things like that. Tommy caresses Evan’s cheek, a small smile coming to his face, and then he presses a chaste kiss to his lips. 

“Yeah, they are. Lucky me, right?”

As they drift off, after saying good night to their babies (“Sleep tight, little blobs,” Tommy whispers.

“Tommy, I swear—how many times… You’re really sticking with this, huh?” Evan grumbles, though his smile betrays him.’), Tommy’s smile never leaves his face. And for a moment, he’s willing to believe Evan: nothing can go wrong, right?

(They absolutely can)

-

Maddie is pretty sure something’s up with Buck. She’s known him since the day he was born, and she’s always able to tell when her brother’s mind is going a mile a minute. She remembers him being like that when he had his first crush in middle school, when he got kicked out of college, when he started dating Tommy. It's a nervous energy that he barely manages to contain, and it's like it buzzes from him. 

It's unusual, though, for Maddie not to know what it's about; Buck usually tells her everything. But she won't pry; as difficult as it is for Maddie to accept it, she knows Buck's an adult and has his own way of dealing with things. When he wants to tell her, he will.

“So, are you sure you're free for the barbecue next Saturday?” He asks her for what has to be the fourth time since he arrived at her place for brunch. Maddie is finding his anxiety amusing, if a little confusing.

“Yes, Buck, I'm sure” She says with a chuckle, and then frowns slightly at him. “You really want everyone to be there, huh? Is there a reason for it?”

Buck widens his eyes, his cheeks blushing, and that alone tells Maddie that yes, there's something he's not telling her about this barbecue. 

“No!” He denies way too quickly, deliberately not looking at her. “It's just… it's been a while since we got everyone together, that's all”

He's not wrong; it's one the disadvantages of having a family made up of first responders who work three different places. In fact, Maddie doesn’t really remember the last time they managed to get everyone together; she thinks she was still pregnant with Kevin, and her son is four months already. 

But Maddie knows this isn’t the whole truth behind Buck’s urgency, and it’s killing her that she’ll probably have to wait another ten days to find out.

“Alright”, she pretends to buy it for now, and that’s when her oven timer goes off. Maddie smiles excitedly, squeezing his arm. “Make yourself comfortable, I have a surprise in the kitchen for you”

Buck smiles at her, that sweet smile of his that almost looks surprised that she thought of him (and Maddie usually feels a twinge of guilt when she sees it), and sits down at her couch. Maddie rushes to the kitchen, taking the banana bread out of the oven. It’s an old recipe, one she mastered during her teenage years, her little brother being the unwitting tester for her experiments. 

It quickly became one of Buck’s favorites, a sort of comfort food, and that didn’t change as a grown-up. The first time she baked it for him in LA was back when his leg was crushed by the fire truck, and he still loved it. So, now Maddie bakes it for him whenever she can find the time, which is no easy task for a working mother of two, but her brother deserves it. She can already imagine the easy smile on his face as he eats it, fresh out of the oven. 

Except that’s not what happens at all. The moment Maddie brings it to the living room, held in a baking pan and still smoking, Buck’s smile becomes a frown, and he takes a deep breath, his hand covering his mouth. 

“Oh, God, is that banana?” He asks, and Maddie nods, trying to understand what’s wrong. 

“Yeah, it’s your favorite! Buck, what’s wrong?”

But he doesn’t answer her; before Maddie can even understand what’s going on, her brother is bolting to the bathroom, closing the door behind himself. She quickly runs back to the kitchen, putting the bread back in the oven to hide the smell and grabbing a bottle of iced water from the fridge. 

Maddie’s heart is beating fast, and she’s beside herself with worry. Buck’s never gotten sick with her banana bread, never. Hell, she can’t remember ever seeing Buck sick at all, his immune system one of the strongest she’s ever seen. A thousand different possibilities cross her mind, one worse than the other, until her brother comes back from the bathroom, looking pale and like he’s half afraid Maddie will be mad at him. 

“Are you alright?” She asks, carefully approaching him and putting the water bottle in his hand. Buck gratefully takes a small sip, swallowing heavily. 

“Yeah, sorry about that. I… Banana isn’t agreeing with th- with me right now” He says, voice impossibly small. Maddie notices how he almost wraps his hand around his belly, but drops it at the last second, looking at her with widened eyes.

And well, Maddie may not be a genius, but she sure as hell isn’t oblivious. She gasps when she realizes what’s going on, her hands covering her mouth in surprise. 

“Oh my God! You’re pregnant!” Maddie squeals, and Buck looks just like a deer caught in headlights. 

“What?! N-no I’m not!” He asks, his voice three octaves higher than normal, and Maddie crosses her arms, unimpressed. 

“Buck. You never learned how to lie to me, you know?” She says, and Buck sighs, admitting defeat. 

“Alright, I… I am. With twins.” He adds, and Maddie squeals again, even higher this time. wrapping her arms around his frame that towers over her. 

She’s ridiculously happy for her little brother. Maddie knows how much he yearned for a family, ever since he was a little boy, and she couldn’t be happier that he’s building one with a man like Tommy.

“Twins?! How far along are you? Are you feeling alright? Does Tommy know? Oh, wait, is that why you’re having the barbecue?!” She asks, talking a mile a minute and half leading Buck to sit on the couch. The idea of being an aunt (to two kids no less!) fills her heart with so much joy.

“Yeah, that’s why” He tells her, an impossibly giddy smile taking over his face as he rests his hand against his belly for real this time. “So you have to keep it a secret, alright? You can’t even tell Chim. I’m just eight weeks along, and we’re really afraid of something going wrong, so…”

“Hey”, Maddie says gently, squeezing his free hand, the one that’s not wrapped around his babies so protectively that her heart feels warm. He’s such a natural parent. “You can trust me, ok? I know I like gossip, but I can keep the important secrets”

Buck smiles at her; if he was a less kinder man, he could remind Maddie of the secret she kept for twenty-nine years, a secret that shaped so much of him without him even knowing it. But he doesn’t, and Maddie loves and admires him even more for it. She hugs him again, resting her head against his chest and her hand against his much larger one. 

“I know you can. In a way, I’m glad you know now. I’ve been dying to tell you for a month” He confesses, and Maddie chuckles, snuggling further against him. She can hear his heartbeat, the heartbeat of the boy she raised, and it’s steady and peaceful. 

“I am so happy for you, Evan” Maddie confesses, and they smile at each other, Buckley siblings against the world. 

Even if it means keeping a secret from her husband. After all, she knows Chim can’t keep a secret to save his life. 

Chimney hates secrets. Secrets are like a nuclear bomb and Chim’s like the fuse (do nuclear bombs have fuses? He’s not sure, but the metaphor counts anyway), and he doesn’t like being the fuse, thank you very much. He hates being told secrets, because he hates keeping them. He’d much rather be the last person that gets to know something than the first one. Which naturally means a secret simply drops itself into his lap when he’s least expecting it. 

It all starts when Tommy comes over for movie night; Maddie’s at work and Buck’s hanging out with Chris and Eddie, so it’s just the two of them, because Jee is having a sleepover at Albert’s and Kevin is already down for the night (how he and Maddie were blessed with a four-month-old that sleeps through the night, he’ll never know, but he won’t look a gift horse in the mouth and all that). They’re free to watch movies packed with all the violence, action and dirty words that they could want. 

(They’re watching Ever After. It’s Drew Barrymore playing Cinderella, there’s nothing in the world that can beat that)

“Say, is Buck feeling better?” Chim asks as he joins Tommy in the living room, handing him a beer. “He was super nauseous at the station the other day, I was worried about him”

Tommy hesitates, taking a deliberately long time swallowing his beer, and then nods curtly.

“Yup. He's all better. Now, are we watching this or not?” He says, staring at the TV screen as if he hasn't watched this live about a thousand times (Chim just knows he has), and Chim frowns. 

Usually Tommy never misses an opportunity to talk about Buck, and although Chim has to admit he wasn’t looking forward to hear about his brother-in-law's recovery process, it's at least unusual. He takes a sip of his own beer, wondering how to ask Tommy if everything's alright between him and Buck when the doorbell rings with their pizza delivery, and then he's roped into their age-old game.

Both he and Tommy get up at the same time, staring intently at the door.

“Sit your ass down, Kinard, it's my house” Chim says, trying to hold Tommy down, but fat chance; he's strong, but Tommy's also strong and a lot bigger. He easily squirms out of Chim's grip, already grabbing his wallet from his pocket.

“That's exactly why I'm paying, you pulled this shit last time you came over” He says, and the bastard pushes Chim towards the couch.

His knees buckle and he falls on the couch; by the time he manages to get up, Tommy's already putting two bills in the hand of the delivery boy and telling him to keep the change. Chim sighs in defeat, looking down; he'll pay the next round. That's when he sees a small square paper on the floor, that probably fell from Tommy's waller. As he comes close to it, he sees the words ‘Little Blobs: week 8’ written on the back, with two little hearts adorning it.

Frowning, Chim flips the little square, not in a million years expecting what he sees when he turns it around. It's an ultrasound picture, and there are two embryos in it. At first, Chim chuckles as he looks at it.

“Why do you have an ultrasound in your wallet?” He asks, voice between curious and amused, but when he sees Tommy's panicked look, he takes a closer look at the picture.

And right there at the corner, Chim sees the words that make his jaw drop. 

“‘Babies Buckley-Kinard” He reads out loud, and then stares at Tommy, his mouth agape. “Holy shit, Tommy, Buck's pregnant?!”

Tommy groans, taking the picture from his hand and putting it back on his wallet. Chimney can't help but notice the tenderness with which he does that, even if he looks completely annoyed with himself.

“Damn it, I knew I should have left this in my locker”, he mutters, and Chim's thinking it's mostly to himself. “Yes, he's pregnant, but you can't tell anyone”

And there they were, the words Chimney hates more than any other in the world. He shakes his head, putting his hands on Tommy's shoulders.

“Ohhh no. No no no Tommy, you cannot do this to me” He pleads, but Tommy doesn't budge.

“I mean it, Howie! Evan really wants to keep it a secret until the barbecue, so you have to keep it a secret too!” Tommy says, and he might as well have given Chim a death sentence, because if Buck wants to keep it an absolute secret, it means…

“Are you telling me I can’t even tell Maddie?!” He asks, because apparently Chim hates himself enough that he needs to hear it out loud. Indeed, Tommy looks at him as if he’s being particularly slow (he’s not; he’s just in denial).

“Are you kidding me?! You especially can’t tell Maddie, do you know what Evan will do to both of us if she finds out by anyone other than him?!”

“Not to mention what Maddie will do to us if we spoil her baby brother’s surprise” Chim completes, and Tommy nods in agreement. He sighs in defeat. “Fine, I’ll keep it a secret. Serves us right for marrying the Buckley siblings, right?”

“I’ll drink to that”, Tommy says, taking a swig of the beer they’ve forgotten in the whole chaos. “Now c’mon, pizza’s getting cold and Drew Barrymore is waiting for us”

“Hey, wait a second, Kinard” Chim says, and before Tommy can sit back down, he’s wrapping his arms around his old friend’s frame, giving him a tight hug. “I’m happy for you, man”

“Thank you, Howie”, he answers, and there’s a smile on his face like Chim’s never seen before: happy, unguarded and filled with expectations. He wonders if he looks like that whenever someone talks about his kids, and hopes fervently that the answer is yes. “Part of me still can’t believe it, you know? That I’m gonna be a dad”

Chim chuckles and claps Tommy’s shoulder. He remembers feeling this exact way over four years ago, and once more four years ago. It was the best and most terrifying feeling in the world. 

“I know what you mean, my man. Part of you will only believe it when you see their little faces the day they are born” He tells Tommy as the two of them sit back down, and Chim opens one of the pizza boxes, and that’s when he realizes something. “Holy shit, Tommy! I’m gonna be an uncle!”

Tommy looks at him with a raised eyebrow, and okay, Chim will admit that this time he was kinda slow. But things had happened so fast, and never in a million years would he imagine himself being an uncle to Tommy Kinard’s kids. 

“Yeah, you are, Howie. I guess I should be congratulating you too, huh?” He says, nudging Chim’s shoulder, and they smile at each other. 

They’ve known each other for almost twenty years, and Buck and Tommy dating had brought them closer again, something Chim is very grateful for. He’s proud of how far Tommy’s come from the guarded man he met in the 118 station so long ago. Coming out and being with Buck has done wonders for him, and he can only imagine that these babies will do even more. 

“Thanks, Tommy.” He says sincerely. “Now, are we watching this movie or not?” Chim quips, knowing when Tommy is done talking about his feelings (it’s a time frame that’s expanding all the time, but he still doesn’t like to push it).

Tommy relaxes visibly when he realizes the tender moment is finished, and nods, shoving pizza into his mouth. They fall into a comfortable silence, watching the movie intently, and Chim tries not to panic when he realizes the enormity of the secret he’s gonna have to keep from his wife. 

He can do this, right? --

It’s a great day for a barbecue, Eddie thinks. The sun is shining brightly in the sky, but not too hot to make them go inside. Buck and Tommy are flawless hosts, making sure everyone’s drinks are filled and that there’s plenty of meat to go around (Bobby’s manning the grill, cause some things never change, no matter whose house they’re at). 

He sips at his beer, watching their fire family with a small smile on his face. It feels nice, having everyone together, and his happiness is in no small amount related to the fact that Chris is there. It’s been eight months since the two of them came back from El Paso, but sometimes Eddie still rides that euphoria. His son is talking to Denny and Mara, laughing openly; he’s wearing one of the polo shirts he’s been favoring as of late, and he’s had a haircut recently. He looks grown-up enough to make Eddie feel like an old man, but he couldn’t care less; he’s too proud. 

“Diaz!” Buck’s amused call brings Eddie back to the present, and he looks up to see his best friend with a smirk on his face. “Care for a refill?”

He’s offering Eddie a closed bottle of beer, and he takes it with a grateful smile, watching as Buck claps his shoulder. Eddie frowns at his best friend; there’s… something about Buck. He can’t quite place it, but he looks… Happy is not quite the word, but it’s the closest one Eddie can think of. He wonders if it’s just about getting everyone together; Buck is very much a gatherer, and being surrounded by his family is important to him. Eddie figures that might be it. 

“Thanks, Buckley” He answers, opening it with his hand and taking a sip. “Hey, what’s with you today? Every time I look at you, it’s like you can’t stop smiling”

Buck chuckles and rubs his neck, but the smile still doesn’t leave his face. If anything, it takes a more amused stance, and instead of answering Eddie, he turns around to catch Tommy’s hand (Eddie thinks it’s annoyingly adorable how they two never pass by each other in family gatherings without a small touch; it’s like they’re acknowledging that, even when talking to other people, they’re still each other’s priority). 

“Babe” Buck says, a hint of barely contained amusement in his voice. “Eddie is wondering why I can’t stop smiling today” “Ah, probably because your smile is beautiful, sweetheart” Tommy says, pressing a kiss to his cheek, and Eddie, in the position of best friend, finds himself forced to roll his eyes at their sappiness. “Why, is there another reason you can think of?” 

He smirks as he asks that, and he and Buck exchange an infuriating conspiratorial glance, as if they know something Eddie doesn’t (which, to be fair, is usually true, but they’re usually not that smug about it). 

“Eddie” Buck asks, out of nowhere, the knowing smirk never leaving his face.”Would you mind going inside and checking the oven for me? Bring us what you found there?”

“Oh, have you baked dessert?” He asks excitedly. The last time he had a Baked Alaska  was during the Six-Month Crisis We Don’t Talk About, and as happy as he is that those two idiots got their heads out of their asses very quickly, he still misses Buck’s more elaborate baking.

“Why don’t you go and check?” Buck asks, crossing his arms, and Eddie decides the only way to wipe that smirk off his face is to do as he asks. 

As he goes inside, he faintly hears Buck calling everyone’s attention, and his hopes get even higher. If he wants everyone to see it, it’s probably a really good dessert. Eddie wonders if he finally managed that spumoni recipe he’d been trying a few months ago (it was a hard recipe, and he and Chris were the unwitting test subjects of many failed attempts; Eddie spent weeks unable to even look at a pistacchio). 

He’s extremely surprised, and undeniably confused, when all he finds inside the oven are two small buns. Eddie takes them in his hand, turning them over, wondering if there’s anything else, but no such luck. He frowns; is Buck pulling a prank on him? If he is, Eddie doesn’t get it. 

“Buck”, he says, going outside holding the two buns in his hands. “Why are there only two buns in your oven?”

“‘Only’ two? I'd say two is more than enough’” Tommy mutters beside Buck, and that makes even less sense to Eddie. 

As he looks up, Buck is looking at him expectantly and, he notices, so is everyone else. Athena particularly is looking at him as if he's being purposefully dense.

“What am I not getting here?!” Eddie exclaims, trying to understand what's going on.

What he doesn't expect is to get the answer from his son, of all people.

“Oh my God, Dad, really?! It’s super obvious!” Chris says, his voice between embarrassed and exasperated. “Buck is pregnant! With twins!”

“WHAT?!” Eddie screams, unable to stop himself, because what Chris is saying makes absolute sense. Buck’s been having nausea issues for weeks; he and Tommy had made sure everyone was there for this barbecue. Buck hadn’t just been happy, Eddie realizes; he’s been glowing.

Eddie drops the buns, in complete shock, and only then he notices he’s the only one who’s reacting that way. He crosses his arms, completely exasperated. 

“Why am I the one surprised about this?!” He asks in despair, and Buck and Tommy look at him and then at the rest of their fire family, who are all gathered behind them (except for Jee and Kevin who are taking their naps). 

“Yeah” Buck says slowly, crossing his arms. “Why is Eddie the only one surprised about this?”

All of their family, except for Bobby, Athena and Hen, look at the two of them with widened eyes, before everyone starts to exclaim at the same time. 

“Oh my God!”

“I am so shocked!”

“I would never have seen it coming!” “Pregnant?! I never would have guessed!”

“Wow, Buck’s pregnant, that’s such a surprise!”

Well. Thank goodness none of them are actors, because they wouldn’t manage to convince anyone. Buck himself doesn’t look impressed at all, and Tommy has that deadpan look of his that Eddie is used to by now.

“...You guys knew already, didn’t you?” He asks with a sigh, and everyone nods sheepishly. When they do, though, Maddie and Chim look at each other with widened eyes and a gasp. 

“You knew?!” He asks, and she nods. 

“And you knew?!” Maddie exclaims back. 

“Tommy made me promise not to tell you!” Chim says, pointing an accusatory finger at Tommy, and Maddie throws her hands in the air. 

“Buck made me promise not to tell you!” Maddie clarifies, and Eddie finds himself laughing at their antics. 

“Oh my God, are you telling me I’ve been keeping a secret from my wife for a week when she already knew?!” Chim groans, and everyone laughs, knowing how hard this must have been for their paramedic. 

“Yeah, I couldn’t do it” Bobby shrugs, looking completely unapologetic as he casually flips the burgers still on the grill. “Sorry, boys, but I told Athena the day you told me”

“Bobby, c’mon!” Buck says exasperatedly, but Eddie knows his best friend, and he can see he’s really not mad. “You said you could keep the secret!”

“Oh, don’t blame him” Athena defends her husband, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “He got home so excited about being a grandpa, he just had to tell me”

Eddie has to give it to her, she knows exactly what to say. Buck instantly melts at her words, looking at Bobby with a besotted smile as he runs a hand on his belly (and wow. his best friend has two babies inside him. Eddie still can’t believe that)

“Alright, so that accounts for Maddie, Chim and Athena”, Tommy says, and then turns to Hen. “Hen, I’m guessing you told Karen?”

“Actually, I didn’t” Hen says, as if only now realizing that, and turned to her wife. “How did you know, babe?”

Karen points a finger to her kids. “Denny and Mara told me!”, and now the two of them are the center of attention. 

“Chris told us in the group chat” Mara says casually before taking a bite of her burger, and Denny nods, taking a sip of his soda can. 

“Yeah. May and Harry couldn’t be here, but they sent congratulations” He completes, and Eddie’s starting to get the feeling he really missed something, because…

“How did you know, Chris?!” Buck asks, turning to his kid, and so do Eddie and Tommy (and the rest of them, who are still following the conversation like it’s a particularly lively tennis match). “I didn’t tell you! Believe me, I really wanted to, but I didn’t!”

“...Common sense?!” Chris deadpans with a shrug, looking between the three of them. “Tommy has been ridiculously protective over you lately, Buck. You found excuses not to drink beer every time you hung out at our place lately, and I saw you checking baby clothes on your cellphone the other day. It wasn’t that hard to put together. Except for you, Dad, apparently” He smirks at Eddie, the little shit he is, and Eddie can’t help but blush, trying to resist the urge to tell his kid to shut up.

Thankfully for Eddie, everyone decides congratulating Buck and Tommy is more important than making fun of him for being the last to know. There’s a flutter of people hugging them, making good wishes and asking how Buck’s been feeling,  then going back to the barbecue, the mood happy and celebratory now as Hen brings out a cake shaped like a stork with two bundles hanging from its beak. 

When it’s Eddie’s turn to congratulate them, he wraps his arms around Buck, giving him a tight hug that tries to convey all the happiness he is feeling for him. 

“Congratulations, mate, I know you’ll be wonderful dads” He says to him and Tommy, who smiles gratefully, and then Eddie points an accusing finger at Buck. “You told me you weren’t drinking beer because of keto, you lying shit”

“It’s not my fault you believed this bullshit excuse” Buck smirks, shoving his shoulder playfully. “When have you ever seen me refuse beer because of a diet?”

Eddie looks down sheepishly, and then back at Buck and Tommy, who are smirking at him infuriatingly. He just knows he won’t ever live this down. 

“Am I really the last one to know?” He asks, because, really, that can’t be true, can it?

“Well, not really, Eddie” Surprisingly, Maddie is the one to answer him. She’s coming towards them with Jee-Yun in her arms, but the girl starts to squirm to get out of her grip as soon as she spots her uncle. “There’s someone who was sleeping during the whole commotion, but wants to talk to her uncles now”

Maddie puts Jee down, and she rushes towards Buck, placing her tiny hands in his belly, looking up at him in wonder. 

“Uncle Buck! Mommy says there’s a baby in your tummy! Like Kevin was in her tummy?! Is that true?!” She asks, a huge smile taking over her sweet face, and Buck kneels down by her side, her smile mirrored in his own. 

“There are actually two babies in my tummy, Jee-bug! Isn’t that cool?!” He asks, and Eddie can see tears starting to glisten in his eyes. 

“That’s right, princess, you’re going to be a big cousin!” Tommy says, kneeling by Jee’s other side, and Eddie’s heart warms at the sight. 

Jee-Yun squeals in happiness, talking a mile a minute, and Buck and Tommy look more than happy to answer any questions she has. And she has a ton of questions (‘how do you know it’s two babies?! are they sharing your belly like me and Mara shared a room?! when can I play with them?!’). 

“Congratulations, Dad” Chris’ dry remark takes Eddie’s attention away from the cute scene in front of him, and he turns to his son to see him with an eyebrow raised, his expression a mirror of Eddie’s own sarcastic one, which. Wow. Hurts to be on the other side of it. “You’re officially ahead of the four-year-old who was sleeping at the time.”

“Okay, you know what? I’m sending you back to Texas”

He won’t. And Chris knows he won’t, but he laughs anyway, because it feels good to laugh now that it’s over. 

They enjoy the rest of the barbecue, and of course Buck and Tommy’s babies are the main topic of conversation from now on. It’s clear the two of them are ridiculously happy, and now that it’s public knowledge, Eddie notices Buck can barely keep his hands from his belly.

Eddie smiles, watching from afar as Tommy does the same, gently rubbing his thumb over the place where their babies are. They’re the perfect picture of a happy family, and Eddie is ridiculously happy for them. Knowing everything they went through as kids, he knows they deserve it. 

And these kids can consider themselves lucky; not only they have the greatest parents in the world, he’ll have the coolest uncle to spoil them. Even if he took too long to find out they existed.

--

Tag list:

@bidisasterevankinard @unhingedangstaddict @silversky9 @music-is-the-voice-of-the-soul 

@asmugfirefighter

@typicalopposite @littlepaws9 @aplaceinme @rubydaiquiri @racerchix21 @dearqueend @laundryandtaxesworld

[ateez-himari]

Hi! How are you? I was wondering what would Suga say about Himari in his private interview of his documentary Road To D-Day? How would the BTS members describe the relationship between Himari and Suga in their private interviews of a documentary?

Hi!! I'll definitely feel a lot better when I get my final grades :(

Yoongi; "My little sister keeps me grounded, no matter what happens she'll always be the light shining through my darkest moments...maybe she was sent down from Heaven to save me. I loved her from the very moment I held that little baby in my arms, I just had this feeling that I would keep her safe from the world no matter what. I was so protective of her at first that I went against her choice to be an idol like my parents did for me...I regret it to this day. Seeing her up on stage nowadays makes me really emotional...when did the little 12 year old kid that came to be after her nightmares turn into this successful young woman ?"

Jin; "They're essentially polar opposites but you know what they say about Yin and Yang, they're each other's balance. Hima is very fragile even now, but she taught him how to be gentle and he gave her the strength she lacked"

J-Hope; "Hima and Yoongi ? They're soulmates...I don't think there is a singular universe in which they aren't siblings. No matter how much the other is struggling, how much they unintentionally hurt each other, they refuse to let go, they'll wear out their hands by holding on so tightly but their love is so pure that they can't find it in them to care. I'm sure they were put on this Earth to save one another"

RM; "When you watch them interact with each other you see two children instead of adults...it's a strange thing, really. They've been through hell together but you'd never know it, it's like they're incapable of resenting the other, or even holding anger"

Jimin; "Hima is already in her 20s but she still clings to Yoongi hyung like a lost child...I think that says everything about their relationship. He's always protected her, she keeps him sane, calm, gives him a reason to do what he does, she's the most valuable thing in his life, and he's the brick wall she can hide behind when she needs to rest"

Taehyung; "Fate. That's the one word I'd use for their relationship. How else do you explain it ? They're adoptive siblings but they have the same smile, the same habits, the same mannerisms...they're mirrors of each other, just with different souls"

Jungkook; "I've never seen siblings this close with each other, there's no way to describe what their love is like...it's so pure, so genuine that it almost seems surreal. He was so overprotective of her when we were starting to get closer, that's how precious she is to him...it's almost like without her he'll die. Hima always looks for him when she's in distress, all it takes is just seeing him for her to finally breathe"

[fkinkindagauche]

All I Ever Wanted Help With Was You

Finally time to post my fic for @steddieexchange! It's for Dorian (Sal3m_hfc on AO3). Hope you enjoy!

Also using this for a @steddiebingo 2025 Round One prompt, Vampire AU.

Rating: Explicit | WC: 8,651 | Tags: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Vampire Eddie Munson, Human Steve Harrington, Friends to Lovers, Fake/Pretend Relationship, There Was Only One Bed, Virgin Eddie Munson, Top Eddie Munson, Bottom Steve Harrington, First Time, Blood Drinking, Size Kink, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Jason Carver Being an Asshole

Summary: Steve agrees to help Eddie out by pretending to be his human companion for a vampire gathering.

Read the whole thing on AO3.

“Steve. Stevie. My dearest friend. I need your help,” Eddie pleads, slumping onto the couch next to Steve. 

They’re at Robin’s place getting ready to watch a movie. Eddie is, as usual, all up in Steve’s space. Steve refuses to shift away from him. He won’t give Eddie the satisfaction of knowing he makes Steve uncomfortable. 

“With what, Eddie?” Steve sighs, wondering what the hell Eddie’s gotten himself into this time. 

“There’s this thing happening the weekend before Christmas,” Eddie says. “A vampire thing, with the coven I’m trying to join. It’s some sort of Midwinter festival, a weekend of, like, sensual partying I guess? At this estate up in Michigan.”

“How could I possibly help you with that?” Steve asks, puzzled.

“Well, see. I got invited by this vampire I met last week, Chrissy,” Eddie explains, putting his hand on Steve’s thigh. That’s fine. Steve can be normal about this. “She’s kind of a higher-up in the coven leadership. But I don’t wanna go alone, because the invitation specifically gives me a plus one, for a human or vampiric companion. And I don’t wanna be that one guy who shows up companionless.”

“A companion… is that, like, a date?” Steve is even more perplexed.

“Typically it does connote a sexual relationship,” Eddie concedes, “unless the vampire is asexual. Which I am most certainly not.” He wiggles his eyebrows.

Steve is well aware that Eddie’s not asexual. Eddie tells all of them, at length, about the fantastic sex he has with the people he feeds from. He says that vampire bites are an aphrodisiac, and his willing victims can’t help but jump his bones afterwards.

“You want me to… find you a companion? I’m not a pimp, Eddie,” Steve grumbles. 

“No!” Eddie yells. “I want you to pretend to be my companion. You’ve got the whole pretty rich boy thing going. It would look good, showing them I could net someone like you.” 

Steve blushes, unable to hold back his reaction to the backhanded praise from Eddie. He fixates on the word “pretend” to make sure he doesn’t get his hopes up. “I have to work,” Steve protests. 

Eddie groans. “Don’t you get, like, vacation time? Isn’t that a human thing?”

“You were a human one year ago,” Steve points out. Eddie has a tendency to talk like he’s a decades-old vampire who’s seen things, and Steve always likes to bring him down a notch.

Eddie waves a hand dismissively. “I’ve forgotten many of the human traditions since then.”

Steve snorts. “If you can get Keith to give me the time off, I’ll come with you.” He doesn’t think that’s even remotely possible. Keith hates Steve, and loves to make him work on weekends, so he figures it’s a good way to say no without having to actually say no.

Eddie nods. “Challenge accepted,” he says, squeezing Steve’s thigh and getting up to go help Robin with the popcorn. If Steve has to adjust himself following Eddie’s hand’s proximity to his upper thigh after that, no one needs to know.

Eddie somehow convinces Keith to give Steve the time off. Steve suspects drugs were involved, but Eddie claims he’s just that persuasive. Steve, who had been sure there was no way he’d get a whole weekend off at the last minute, has backed himself into a corner.

“But… what are we even going to do the whole weekend?” Steve whines after Eddie tells him the news. 

“There’s going to be activities,” Eddie says vaguely.

“What kind? Vampiric mini golf?” Steve quips, hands on hips.

“I’m not actually sure,” Eddie mutters, looking thoughtful.

“You’re taking me to a vampire convention and you don’t even know what’s going to happen there?” 

“Aww, don’t be scared, Stevie,” Eddie teases. “I’ll protect you from all the vampires.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Eddie, you’re a fledgling.”

Eddie raises a hand to his chest in mock hurt. “You wound me. I’ll have you know I’m an extremely precocious vampire. Wise and powerful beyond my years.”

Steve snorts. Robin walks back in from the bathroom, sitting on the couch next to Steve. “Eddie’s making me go to the vampire thing to be his little bitch,” Steve announces. 

Robin laughs. “Did you have to give Keith a blowjob to make that happen, Eddie?”

“Yes,” Eddie replies. “It was so good he offered to give Steve paid leave for the rest of his life, but I told him no need, I just need Steve for the weekend.”

“You do have a really big mouth,” Steve says, very pleased he’s actually able to get a blush out of Eddie. It’s rare, usually Eddie’s the one making Steve blush, but every once in a while Steve gets him.

“You guys are gross.” Robin cringes, sticking her tongue out at them. 

“Pretty sure you got us onto this particular topic, Birdie,” Eddie interjects. 

Robin ignores him. “Are you sure it’s going to be safe? For Steve?”

“I can take care of myself,” Steve grumbles. 

“Everyone’s allowed to bring a human companion, safety guaranteed by the coven,” Eddie assures. 

Steve sighs and slumps down on the couch. There’s probably no way out of this. And it will be nice to have a weekend away from Keith.

“Alright. Do I have to bring, like, fancy clothes?” Steve asks. He can’t imagine Eddie ever wearing anything other than jeans, a band tee, and a leather jacket, but he’s trying to lean into the vampirism thing a little more these days. 

“The invitation said there’s going to be a ball, which is black tie.”

“Eddie, do you even know what black tie means?” Steve asks. 

“Well, I assume, Steven, that it means I need a black tie,” Eddie snarks.

Steve sighs and drops his head into his hands. “We’re gonna need to go shopping.”

Read the whole thing on AO3.

Divider by @steddiecameraroll-graphics.

[6rookie-writer0110]

A new life together

Dick Grayson and Male Reader

Request - If you can do a DC's Titans Dick Grayson and male readers birthday and dick plans a special birthday dinner for him then proposes to him after dinner reader says yes and just end up cuddling in front of the fire.

Today is your birthday and tonight your boyfriend is going to take you out. He takes you out to eat first and it was at the restaurant where you had your first date with him.

“Wow, we haven't been here since our first date,” You said

You drink your soda and he is smiling at you.

“Yeah, it's been a while now. I thought why not here and the food is still good” Dick said

“Remember you accidentally spilled your drink on me” You giggled

“I was hoping you forgot about that,” Dick said

“I didn't forget, Dick. The date wasn't that bad and we are still together” You said

“When that happened I thought you wouldn't go out with me again, I thought I ruined the date,” Dick said

“Before you spilled the drink on me, I did have a good time and that's why I agreed to a second date,” You said

“Well, I’m glad you did agree to see me again,” Dick said

You and Dick are still smiling at each other. Then you two started to talk about something else, then he ordered dessert. You ordered a milkshake and he is holding your hand.

Later, He surprised you by taking you to the aquarium. You and Dick have been dating for a long time and are madly in love with each other. You know that he is Nightwing and he doesn't hide secrets from you. You and Dick try to have date night often but it can be hard when he has to go fight criminals.

You are holding his hand while walking around. Then you take a selfie with him by the turtles and you send him the picture.

“That looks so cool,” You said

“I really like the picture. Do you want to go look at the otters?” Dick said

“Sure,” You smiled

You and Dick head to see the otters. You take pictures of the otters then you and Dick went to pet the stingrays. Dick takes a picture of you touching the stingrays and sea stars.

You go to the bathroom and he waits for you outside. Dick has the ring box in his hand and he is feeling even more nervous. He starts to think about how to ask you to marry him. He saw you come out of the bathroom, he quickly put the ring box away and stood up fast.

“Do you want to go look at the sharks?” You asked

“Yeah,” Dick smiled

You hold his hand and head to see the sharks. You and Dick started to look up and saw different kinds of shark swim by. Dick can feel his heart racing ‘Now or never’ he thought to himself. He lets go of your hand, he takes out the ring box and he goes down on one knee. Some strangers started to watch him

“Y/N” Dick smiled

You look down and you are in shock and feeling speechless.

“W-what-what are you doing?” You stuttered

You don't move your hand away, then he opens the ring box.

“Y/N, I love you. Since our first date, I knew I wanted to be with you forever. You make me happy and I want you to be my husband. I want to create new memories with you and I will never stop loving you ever. I know we belong togther, Y/N. In every universe I know we belong together. Y/N, will you marry me?” Dick said

Everyone is still watching and you feel their eyes on you and him.

“I love you and forever. Yeah, I will marry you!” You smiled big

He puts the ring on your finger, people Cheer for you two. He stands up and you kiss him on the lips and he can't stop smiling.

“I can't believe we are getting married,” Dick said

“You thought I was going to say no?” You asked

“Yeah. Some people run away once marriage is mentioned. I can't wait to tell the others” Dick said

“Me too,” You said

You kiss him again.

✫ ✫ ✬

You and Dick went home. He is putting wood in the fireplace then he starts the fire. You and Dick sit in front of the fire and start to eat the cheesecake togther, but he feeds you a piece.

“How did you know my ring size? I don't even know my size” You said

“I checked online and I printed a ring size chart. When you were sleeping, I put it around your finger then I went to the jewelry store” Dick smirked

“That was smart to do. I really love the ring” You said

“That’s good to know. I wasn't sure about the style but I’m glad I picked that one” Dick said

He gives you a peck on the lips. You cuddle with him. He puts the blanket over you and him then you and Dick start to talk about wedding plans.

[jevilowo]

It's me the timeline guy. Here are my many lore related grievances with the comic:

SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT tho most people have probably read it by now lol

FIRST OF ALL, the Administrator's plan. What happened to "plan so disturbing that several US senators pardoned her for the Poopy Joe incident?" What even was her plan actually was it just to keep the fighting going forever? Then what was the point of Australiummaxxing after Redmond and Blutarch died?

What's up with Zepheniah’s hooked up corpse. Isn't his ghost still around? He certainly is by the seventh scream fortress comic, which takes place during MvM. His will says he won't rest until he's done being mad at the world idk how that relates to anything.

OH HORSEMANN MY HORSEMANN. Why is Zepheniah claiming to be an only child? And it's not a retcon bc later on Soldier pulls up the family photo WITH SILAS IN IT. Where did he even get that. Anyways. The only explanation is either 1) some in-universe attempt by Zepheniah to write Silas out of history (implied by the two copies of the quarterly concern, one seen in a hidden page in the classless update and the other in the background of the Engineer update), or 2) ...i was going to say Silas was actually his cousin or something but that wouldn't make sense if the siblings of Zepheniah’s dad all died young. Urgh. I hoped the Horsemann would return and put to rest the implications dragged up by scream fortress two but alas twas not to be.

What's with the 3 different covers of a young Administrator? My theory is they're supposed to represent three possible backstories the writers were cooking and wouldn't commit to. Who knows.

CHARLES DARLING. The triplets' birth certificate claimed that their mother was a Darling (save me Bette Mann etc etc), and that had me convinced Charles was going to be at least RELEVANT. Why else would he, a joke antagonist introduced in the War! Comic, show up at all? Looking for Australium, no less? I tell you that flashback of him and Maxton had me CONVINCED something would happen. Especially with the two of them lowkey treating him like shit.

So so so much Admin stuff left unexplained. Seeing her child self in the Australium. The census dated back to 1850 with "HELEN" on it. Telling Engie "your family has already done so much for me". By that she could have just meanth Radigan making an immortality machine for Redmond as well as Blutarch I guess, but ??? I liked the Emily reference tho that was something one of the artists reffered to her as for the Engie Update Comic by mistake and later took back so neat callback lmao.

SPEAKING OF RADIGAN. Nothing on who the third Australium machine went to. Presumably Admin I guess? Not explained, never will be probably.

Who was the person in the torn Mann Family portrait? My main theory was always either an earlier version/design of Grey or a Darling, but in the picture Soldier shows (SERIOUSLY WHERE DID HE GET THAT) we can't even see the outline of a person around his thumb. It almost looks like they just made a version of the picture without anyone in the middle and called it a day.

TFI having other mercenary groups came out of fucking nowhere, even in comic six. The T and F presumably stand for "Team Fortress", fuck you mean "Team Citadel", "Team Vanguard", giant fucking statue of random epic looking mercs??? What is happening. They did NOT explain that shit at all. Multiple, seemingly incredibly competent teams are NOT "eighteen perfect idiots". Did Poopy Joe die for nothing.

One of the top posts I've ever made is the one where I point out the date Spy and Scout got arrested on that newspaper: September 7th, 1972. This means the rest of the comics should take place 5½ months later i.e. February/March 1973. Ergo, 1979 could not be "seven years later". The comics seem to think themselves that they're set in 1972 already, there's a few lines about it but for the life of me I can't remember. Something something however many years since Zepheniah died blah blah year the triplets were born. Whatever. It's on my timeline probably.

Smaller thing, but embarrassing lack of a full name reveal for Heavy and Medic. Spy also, but I wasn't really expecting that. They shall remain Mikhail "Mischa" Weponzgy and Fritz Ludwig (alias, he's a wanted man) in my heart.

SO IN CONCLUSION: the writers went in with no clue how to end the story, something made evident by the possibility of the 4chan leaks being an early script and also entirely fucking different.

Still, there were a lot of lore unrelated things I did enjoy: the fact that the mercs actually got a happy ending, for one thing. Sniper stealing a plane, Scout maturing and moving on from Pauling, Pyro literally just being overjoyed to see Engie again, babies!!! The fact we even got a comic! How crazy is that? At least we didn't have to wait another seven years.

I might draft a script for an alternate ending that tries to answer lore stuff more, but knowing me I wouldn't finish it. Still, I am working on making a website for my timeline and I'll upload the link here once I'm done with it. Oh and I'll update the doc version soon. Bitterly.

[princessofgotham777]

Dating Jason Todd (Part Five)

fanfic type: angst, fluff, comfort (ongoing)

If you liked the Titans show but wish they handled Jason’s story line differently you might like this fic!

Hey so this is in fact my first time writing fanfiction (idk what my life has come to). Sorry if it’s cringy but also I would eat this up cause I LOVE some good angsty comfort fanfiction. I won’t write smut. I don’t think I’m gonna do requests but if you have any ideas feel free to let me know. Also of course I don’t own any DC characters this is purely fanfiction. Although I’ve had tumblr for a bit I’m not really used to posting stuff so sorry if I don’t format everything well. Thank you and I hope you enjoy. (I hope you like run-on sentences💀) (if you don’t like it don’t be rude just move on dude😃🧍‍♀️)

So story line, this doesn’t really take place in any specific universe but I’m gonna be pulling concepts from Titans, The Batman, Under the Red Hood, and whatever lore I remember from the CW shows cause I grew up watching those, then just my imagination of course. Reader is referred to as she/her btw.

Warnings: talking about death, suicide, depression, torture (it’s not graphic I hate gore it’s just sad), talking about intimacy (not graphic), struggling with eating, topics of grief

Part five: Dead?

You think you’re in shock. Maybe you’re so in shock you don’t even know you are. Dick said Barbra was going to deal with things back in Gotham so him, Kori and Rachel could come home. He told everyone he wants the team to be together but you know he really just wants to keep an eye on you. They should be back any minute since it’s been about three hours since you got the phone call; the call that told you the love of your life is dead. You and Gar sit on the couch side by side both quietly staring off into space. The elevator door opens and Dick, Kori and Rachel walk in. Rachel walks over to you and Gar, she pulls you both into a hug, Kori joins in and Dick simply stands to the side.

You get sick of the awkward conversation and long periods of silence. “Can I talk to you?” You ask Dick. He nods and you head into your old room.

“I’m sorry,” he says.

“I know,” you reply. “I’m going to Gotham.”

“Y/N, it’s not safe,” he says.

“You can’t stop me Dick, if you want you can come with but I’m going to Gotham…I want to see him,” you say softly.

“Fine, but no running off and what I say goes,” he says.

“Yes to the first one but I’m not a titan anymore I don’t take orders from you,” you say.

“Sorry…” he says. You begin to throw things into a leather backpack when he says, “you’ll always be a titan to me.” You look into his eyes and see so much sorrow. You don’t have the energy nor motive to attempt to unpack what he’s said. All you want is Jason, and now you’ll never see him again.

“Come on,” you say as you put on Jason’s leather jacket and your pink Chicago hat. Dick follows you out of the room and down the halls to where the titans are.

“Going somewhere?” Rachel says.

“Yeah, Y/N and I are going back to Gotham,” Dick says.

“What?” Gar says.

“What about the threats?” Kori says.

“Jokers the least of my problems right now, Jason’s dead…I need to be there,” you say.

“You’re okay with this Dick?” Gar asks.

“No but that’s why I’m going,” he says.

The car ride is filled with awkward silence. You guys are about an hour into the drive when Dick finally says something. “I’m sorry I couldn’t keep my promise,” he says.

“I don’t really wanna talk about it,” you answer quickly.

“I just need you to know I tried, I swept every room in Arkham myself,” he says.

“I know, Rachel told me,” you say. You notice he’s about to continue the conversation so you say, “I forgive you, I know that’s all you care about so I forgive you.”

“Hey, that’s not all I care about” He says.

“It wasn’t your fault, and besides it’s not about you,” you say.

“It’s not about me? What does that mean?” He says.

“Nothing just, you always do this Dick,” you say.

“Do what?” He asks.

“You always make it about yourself and your redemption, you did it on the roof top and you’re doing it right now and I just can’t deal with it, not today,” you say.

“Wait the rooftop-“ he starts to say before you cut him off.

“Not today Dick!” You say with anger. “Please,” you say softly. The rest of the car ride is fairly quiet except the typical arguing about if the gps is correct.

You and Dick get to GCPD to find Barbra speaking with a man in a lab coat.

“Dick?” She says. “I was just about to call you.”

“Barbra you remember Y/N,” Dick says.

“Right, hi,” she says sounding off. “Um something’s happened,” she says.

“Course more bad news, first can we see the body?” Dick asks.

“Fucks sake it’s not “the body” it’s Jason,” you mumble.

“Yeah so that’s the thing, it’s not Jason,” Barbra says.

“What?” You say.

“What do you mean it’s not Jason?” Dick asks.

“He was so beaten he was only recognizable by the Robin suit, we tested his DNA cause it’s part of procedure and the body in the morgue is not Jason Todd,” Barbra says.

“So Jason could still be alive somewhere?” You ask.

“Hypothetically yeah,” Barbra says.

I hope you liked the fic if you did please like, I really appreciate any positive feedback. It’s nice to know people enjoy my writing and it encourages me to keep writing and posting. I have a lot of ideas to develop the red hood story line and also I have backstory ideas for how the reader meets Jason and Dick and becomes a titan. Sorry this one is so short my mom is in the hospital that’s why. I did the whole Jason’s alive thing because I thought I killed him off a bit too suddenly, I’m trying to sort of merge the plots of under the red hood, death in the family and Arkham knight in regards to how he dies. Anyways I hope you are enjoying this series🩷

Also here’s my Masterlist incase you haven’t read the other parts.

Masterlist

[foxykatie425]

I realize I’m a few days late but… Star Wars TikTok what tf are you doing??? 😂🤣😅

[puppyeared]

i feel like im not making any sense but does anyone else feel like there are stories that let u run with them and ones that spell everything out for you

[shmorp-mcdurgen]

Late(ish) at night gman ramblings time

Honestly I have yet to find a popular theory as to what Gman is that actually feels like. right to me. Like some of them are neat ideas, if put into something fan made, but if it turned out to be canon, most of the outcomes i've seen feel like they'd be super disappointing, in my opinion of course.

I've seen theories about Gman being a Shu'ulathoi that shapeshifted into a humanoid form, and while the idea is novel, I honestly feel as though it. limits him too much. It removes the mystery aspect of him because now we know what he is, and what his motivations are. Like, if Valve ever truly confirmed that Gman is some sort of alien species that we can easily pinpoint, or even one we've seen before, it would feel like it's putting gman in a box that doesn't fit him.

To me, Gman is best left unknowable. He is a species that only has one member (maybe), he doesn't have a set true (or at least comprehensible) form, but he's definitely not human. He doesn't have a name, he has no set species that aligns with anything we have seen so far. An eldritch entity that is outside what we have observed within the Half Life universe. As much as I would love to learn more about Gman, I also fear the mystery of him being removed and overall making him feel less like a cosmic threat.

Overall I don't personally think most of the theories explaining what he could possibly be are correct for him. He is nothing, yet everything at the same time. True ambiguity.

[swordheld]

hi! your blog is one of my favourites and i absolutely adore reading your thoughts. my grandfather recently passed away and it feels like i lost myself with him. how do i continue living after this? there is this constant weight on my chest and it feels like an emptiness has made a home inside of me. how do i go on when it feels like the world crashed on my shoulders?

hello, love! this is so very sweet and kind of you, and i hope you're treating yourself gently and kindly right now - there aren't words for a loss like this. that heaviness is difficult, and hard, and painful. it's okay if things don't feel okay, right now, or even soon - i think that's something that a lot of the people i know that have gone through similar grief feel: like they should be able to get back to a relative 'normal' in a [insert far too short period of time].

but it's okay if it hurts. that's where i'd like to start. you're allowed to feel that emptiness, that world-crashed feeling that goes beyond words, beyond time. don't feel like you have to rush this to feel some sort of better. things get easier with time, i promise you this, but sometimes painful feelings are important to feel, too. cry, scream, feel your emotions. they're a part of you. grieve.

it's perhaps a little silly, but when i think about death i always think about a couple of space songs: mainly drops of jupiter by train and saturn by sleeping at last. there are perhaps others that speak to the emotions better, but these two have always hit something a little deeper for me, and are popular for a wide-reaching reason.

and while personally i don't know much about grief like this, i do know a lot about love; and i think they're a lot of the same thing.

the people we love are a part of us, and this is why it takes from us so deeply when we lose them, because it does feel like we've lost a part of ourselves in the wake of it. but it's because they were so central to our experiences of living - our lives, that the separation introduces a hollowness - a place where they used to be. a home that now goes unlived in.

an emptiness, like you said.

but just because they're not here physically, doesn't mean he's not still there, in your heart, in your life, your memory. you can hold him close in smaller ways, as well: steal a sweater, or cologne/scent for something a little more physical and long lasting for remembering. hold onto the memories you cherish, the things that made you laugh, the ease of slow mornings and gentle nights. write them all down, slide a few photographs in there, go through it and add more when you miss him. keep them all close, keep them in your heart.

you're not alone, in this. he's still there, with you, it's just - in the little things.

he's with you in the way you see and go about your daily life, in doing what he liked to do, in the ways he interacted with the world that you shared with him. the memories you recall fondly when the night is late or the moment is right and something calls it into you like a melody, an old bell, laughter you'd recognize anywhere.

but i think, perhaps most importantly above all others - talk about him. with your family, your friends, his friends, strangers; stories are how we keep the people we love alive. the connections they've made, the legacies and experiences they've left behind, and so, so many stories.

how lucky, we are - to love so much it takes a piece of us when they go. grief is the other side of the coin, but it does not mean our love goes away. it lives in you. it lives in everyone who knew him, in the smallest pieces of our lives.

the people we love never really leave us, like this: they're in how we cook and the way we fold our newspapers, our laundry, in the radio stations we tune in to and the way we decorate our walls, our photo albums. they're in the way we store our mail, organize our closets, the scribbled notes in the indexes of our books. the meals we love and the drinks we mix, the way we spend time with one another. they've been passed down for generations, for longer than history - and we are all the luckier for it.

think about what you shared with him, and do it intentionally. bring him into your life, like this, again. whether it's crosswords or poetry or sports or anything else. if one doesn't help, try another. something might click.

i hope things feel a little easier for you, as they tend to do only with time. i hope you find joy in your grief, even if it is small and hard to grasp at first. know that your hurt stems from so much love that there isn't a place to put it properly, and that it is something so meaningful and hurting poets and storytellers have been struggling to put it into words and sounds that feel like the fit right for eons, and that it is also just simply yours. sometimes things don't have to make sense. sometimes they just are - unable to be put into words or neat little sentiments, as unfair and tragic as they come.

but i promise it will not feel like this forever. your love is real. and perhaps, on where to begin on from here - i think it's less on finding where to begin and just beginning. and you've already started. you've taken the most important and crucial step: the first one. wherever you go, after that, from here? you'll figure it out. you always have, and you always do. it'll come, as things always do. love leads us, as does light - and you're never alone in your hurt. in your grief, your missing something dear to you. i think if you talk about it with others, you'll find they have ways of helping you cope as well - and they have so much love of their own to spare, too.

as an aside, here is the song (northern star by dom fera) i was listening to when i wrote this, for no other reason more than it makes me think of connections, and love, and how we hold onto the people we love and how they change us, wonderfully and intrinsically. it's a little more joyous than the others i've mentioned, and plays like a story, and it made me think of what is at the core of this, love and stories and i am here with you, and maybe it'll bring you some joy, if you'd like it. wishing you all my love and ease 💛