#if he’s on his side but by god when the worlds against him he will be there and build a castle with him. and that’s all one needs sometimes

[tojipie]

˚ ✧ ────────

you’re 5 minutes into your first round and to be quite honest, you’ve never been more sure that fushiguro toji and his god given ability to dirty talk is something you’ll take to your grave.

you’d been with other guys before, ones with a nasty habit of running their mouths during sex. ones that’d grab you by the neck and whisper sweet nothings in your ear, telling you how good you felt, how tight you were, how they couldn’t wait to fuck you again.

toji is entirely different. nothing, and i truly mean nothing, compares to that old man when it comes to mouthing off in the bedroom. he’s formulating sentences you never thought possible, spewing stuff that would have you clutching your pearls and running for the hills any other given day.

you’re holding onto your composure by your teeth hearing him say the things he does, thighs and arms burning as you rock back and forth on his dick.

“take what you need pretty. uh huh, keep fucking me,” he chuckles, winding a fist into your hair to pull you back onto his cock when he notices you trying to crawl away.

you honestly don’t think you can take it anymore. if the way your guts were currently being pummeled into oblivion wasn’t enough, the way he’s talking to you right now has you in crisis.

it’s all too good, suspiciously good, and embarrassingly enough, you think you might be nearing your edge only 7 minutes after making it to his bed. your arms fail you as you try to crawl up the bed and away from the too-good feeling currently frying every wire in your brain.

“awww, you runnin’ from me?,” he laughs, letting your hair go to cage you in from behind, two solid arms settling on either side of your head.

your words escape you each time you muster up a response, eyes rolling back and he takes over again, shoving you face down and absolutely destroying that special spot tucked away inside of you. toji’s like a furnace, cooking you alive with the heat the radiates add his abs and chest.

“told ya you couldn’t handle it,” he teases, watching you writhe under him. “not with this dick.”

you feel something wet—a tongue you realize— traveling up the base of your spine and tapering off at your neck before solid teeth clamp down on the skin there.

okay, wow. fuck. you realize he’d lapped up the moisture settling in the dip of your back, licking the sweat from your skin like an animal.

“gonna let me taste every part of you? hmm?” he says in that too sweet voice you only hear when he’s teasing. he lets go of your neck with a pop to admire the bruise his bite leaves in its wake, sucking another one right under it for good measure.

you fall over the edge with no warning, so overwhelmed with pleasure that your mind and body continue to work separately.

the sound toji makes is beautiful. low, long, and guttural. radiating from the deepest part of his chest like a fan, and for a minute, you think he might be feeling the same overwhelming pleasure you are.

“ughh-hah don’t move, don’t move,” he whispers over and over, massaging the fat of your ass while your body flutters around him. you feel something viscous leak out of you, dripping down the seam of your heat and onto the sheets.

“when the fuck did you have time to cum?,” you finally muster. you don’t think you’d be able to move if your life depended on it, limbs sinking into the mattress like tubes of jelly. you really can’t move once you feel 200 pounds of laughing muscle settle on top of you, keeping you grounded like a paperweight on a measly little envelope.

“what, y’ quitting on all of this?” he laughs, gesturing up and down himself so you know just how irresistible he thinks he is. the worst part is that he’s right, just based off of how hard he’d rocked your world in the last 10 or so minutes.

you feel invigorated by some stroke of a miracle, pressing back on his still-leaking dick as a silent invitation.

“what, more? y’need more of me you little minx?” he laughs, grrriiiinding his tip right up against that fleeting spot you would have never been able to get to on your own.

and just like that he’s back to fucking you, pulling you into him like a toy at that same perfect pace.

“bite me hard if y’ want me to stop, you hear me?” he commands, shoving your face back into the pillows once he sees you nod.

[stcrgazings]

so american 𓇼 ⋆.˚ op81

note… im sorry i know that this song is about all those london boys but my man oscar deserves some appreciation, and i think it turned out really fun, i wrote this in like a day so it’s not proofread, but i hope all my Oscar girlies enjoy. <3

warnings… mentions of alcohol if you like squint very very hard, and implications of smut.

summary… you’re all about those chick-fil-a and parties in the usa, but also all about a driver named oscar piastri who shows you that maybe australian food is better than all the taco bells in the world, you’re so very american but also so very in love.

word count… 1.5k (shortie but goodie)

—

You’re standing in the middle of a stage in some shady karaoke somewhere in Japan, he’s sitting right in front of you, smiling, completely mesmerized like he always seems to be when it comes to you.

“Driving on the right side road…”

—

“Please be careful, please.” He begs as he covers one eye, you’re obviously smiling completely amused by his freak out behavior as you pull out to the road.

You’re a new team ambassador, and have been for a few months now, the team completely thrilled to have one of the most famous singers in the world and the newest it girl of the generation wanting to spent so much time at their paddock and shooting content for them.

But of course you’ll do it if it means you get to be with Oscar.

“Will you calm down? I’ve driven before you know.” You joke, while he paces himself, you’re in some deserted roads near the McLaren headquarters, and he looks completely miserable.

“Yeah I know, but I can’t help but freak out when you’re driving on the wrong side of the road in my two hundred and forty thousand euros car.” He says, his hand grabbing the steering wheel slightly, pulling the car in to the right side of the road.

“Oh shoot, I forgot, it’s not my fault everything here is backwards Osc.” He laughs, rolling his eyes, while you bite your lip, completely ashamed and blushed too.

“Jesus, you’re so American.”

—

“Chick-fil-A is better than any Australian restaurant.” You say matter of factly, Oscar staring at you like you just murdered his entire family.

“No it’s not, take it bac-“

“-Is that Oscar’s sweater?” Lando interrupts him as he stares at you, more specifically at the sweater you’re wearing, one that he is certain he has seen Oscar wear at least a hundred times.

You blush as you nod. “Yeah, Osc let me borrow it back at the airport.” You explain, bitting your tongue as you beg to god that Lando believes the blatant lie you just told.

Oscar, just smiles innocently, clearly entertained by the situation, like you didn’t have to borrow the sweater in the first place because last night he gifted you hickey in your collar bone the size of Europe.

“Doesn’t she look pretty?” He asks, Lando still pretty much confused and lost of words, while you cover your blushed face with your hands.

“I’m not really understandi-“

—

“You have the coldest hands, it’s not even funny” you joke, while you feel his smirk right against your neck, making you giggle softly.

You’re in a cramp up supplies closet in the McLaren garage, his hands sneaking under your shirt, the coldness of them making you shiver and laugh as they unbutton your Bra.

“Well, you certainly seemed to love them last night, and this morning too.” He teased, removing your shirt completely as you pushed him slightly, pulling him back almost immediately to kiss him.

“I hate you” you managed to say in between kisses, your mind completely reduced to pout as your head is thrown back while he nips your jaw and then your neck and then-

"-Where the hell is Oscar?! Practice starts in ten minutes” the voice of one of the McLaren engineers interrupts him, your eyes shoot open, pushing him away almost immediately, because you’re not about to be caught half naked and making out by one of his engineers.

“Aaaand we’re done here” you declare. Oscar groans in frustration, his head placed in your naked chest. “Kill me now”

You pressed your lips together, knowing you won’t be able to continue your little escapade, your hands leaving soft pets all over his hair.

“You need to go babe.” You whisper, lips against his head, leaving one soft kiss there, as he hands you your shirt and bra from the concrete floor.

“I hate it here” he complains, as you put your clothes back on and he guards the door so that no one walks in to watch you naked.

“Kiss” you say, puckering your lips at him.

He smirks. “No” he jokes with a killer smile on his face but he’s already leaning in to kiss you.

—

“You were supposed to take that exit!” He exclaims, pointing at the exit that you just passed.

“You told me in 1.2 miles! That wasn’t 1.2 miles!” You exclaims, clearly stressed as you tries to switch lanes while Oscar covers his face with his hands, laughing. “I said kilometers baby, not miles”

“You know that I don’t do kilometers!” You protest clearly frustrated because you hate driving in highways, while he smiles at you sweetly, his feet on the dashboard and his head pressed against his hands behind his neck.

You turn around to see him, just for a second, he’s smiling brightly, like he always is, UK’s sun shining into his face, making him even more dreamy than he already is. Oscar is someone you sometimes feel like he isn’t even real, like you just made him up, an old poem you’d wish you’d wrote.

“It’s okay baby, I’ll just be late to the meeting.” He smiles, as you take the next exit, so he can drive and you can admire him a little longer.

—

“I might just be in love guys” you tell you’re friends, who look at you completely astonished and completely lost of words, at you and your heart eyes face.

“I mean he’s cute, but in love? Girl, is he that good? Your best friend asks, and you nod, an amusement expression setting in her face.

“I’ve never seen you like this” your other friend says, and it’s true, because no one’s ever make you feel like Oscar does.

“I mean, he’s just so charming, and pretty, and nice and a gentleman in all senses of the word, he laughs at all my jokes, buys me flowers when there’s no special occasion and even sends deliveries to my apartment with just the food I like. I mean who could I not be in love?” You try to explain yourself, as they all mock you.

“Oh yes Oscar! I’ll go to fucking Azerbaijan with you!” One of them says in a high pitched voice, the whole table laughing, making you throw your French Fries at them.

Because yes, you did ditch them for a race weekend in Baku with him, because how could you not.

“Well guys, when you guys have a handsome f1 pilot of a boyfriend you’ll understand why I’ll go anywhere he goes.” You tell them, completely defeated against their teasing. “I’m sorry if I’m being a little too much just a little too soon”

You apologize, but you’re 100% not sorry.

“About that, because I too want an f1 pilot of a boyfriend. Can you do me solid with the Charles Leclerc guy? Because man he can get it”

“Oh my god!”

—

“I’m telling you guys! They are totally sleeping together.” Lando tells Carlos and Charles, as the three of them share lunch, the Ferrari pair not believing a word of what he’s saying.

“Man, there’s no way Oscar scored the hottest chick in the planet” Carlos says, taking a bite of his pastrami sandwich, Lando completely frustrated at the fact that absolutely no one believes him and his theory that you and Oscar are sleeping together.

“Yeah dude, forget it, even I wanna sleep with her.” Charles adds, and Lando groans in frustration pulling his hair out and also offended for Oscar.

“You’re telling me you don’t think my boy has game?” He accused the pair, the both of them nodding like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“To pull that?” Charles points with his head one of your advertisement with McLaren. “Definitely not.”

—

He’s just won in Hungary, and it makes you feel something that you’ve never even felt before as he blows a kiss at you from the podium, your stomach fluttering like a 16-year-old kid.

You feel your heart grow with pride and love, smiling at him from the pit, champagne splashing you everywhere.

You made your relationship public just a few hours ago, a very hard launch as he posted a picture of you eating breakfast in his hotel room.

Lando wins five hundred bucks, Carlos, Charles, Lewis and two McLaren engineers lost a hundred each.

You’re ecstatic, even with the media and the gossips talking about a possible pr relationship you’re pretty much happier than ever.

And you don’t know if what you now have is forever, but something in your gut tells you it is, because he’s the most real thing you’ve ever found, not even fair or close to what your past relationships had been.

That night, you celebrated between drunken kisses and twisted sheets, and for now it’s more that enough.

But you do promise yourself that one your so american ass, will marry him.

[artaxlivs]

I can't help myself - when art is this gorgeous, it needs a little story to go with it:

"Hey Stevie?" Eddie sing-songed as he crowded into Steve's personal space like a gremlin. He was always in Steve's space and Steve was starting to think it was on purpose. Like Eddie knew just how aware of him that Steve actually was. That every time Eddie's breath brushed against Steve's skin, Steve had to tense up to avoid a full body a shiver.

"Yes?" Steve asked warily, crossing his arms across his chest to keep himself from doing something that would give him away.

"How do you feel about Billy Joel?"

Stalling out from where he'd been hurriedly building a brick wall around his heart so Eddie wouldn't break it, Steve kind of sagged in confusion, "Huh?" Eddie waggled his eyebrows which didn't really help even if it was adorable so Steve clarified, "Like Piano Man? That Billy Joel?"

Standing up straight and pulling himself out of Steve's space, Eddie looked a little dumbfounded, and Steve would know because dumbfounded was his natural state of being around Eddie, "You like Piano Man?"

Steve scoffed, rolling his eyes, "It's Piano Man." When Eddie's expression didn't change, Steve said, annoyed or exasperated - possibly both, "It's like you think I live under a rock."

Eddie grinned. Steve's attention was immediately focused. He knew that grin. That was Eddie's I've-got-something-up-my-sleeve grin. The one that had almost gotten them arrested by Hop last week when Eddie had convinced Steve to climb the fence at the high school to swim in the pool since he still couldn't swim in his own. That grin was dangerous.

Before Steve could ask though, Eddie flounced away, curls bouncing, hands flapping, sneakers squeaking as he skipped across the tile and out of Steve's front door. "Not a rock, just the other side of town!" He said as he spun in a circle. Then over his shoulder, he promised - or possibly threatened, "See you tonight, big boy!"

Corroded Coffin was just settling in on the little platform stage when Steve and Robin pushed through the small crowd at The Hideout and elbowed their way to the front. Robin actually looked like she belonged there with her hair teased and the Dio shirt she'd stolen from Eddie tucked into her high waisted jeans. Steve had just thrown on a clean polo shirt and spent too long on his hair. No one was going to believe it if he tried to fit in anyway.

"Hey all you fuckers!" Eddie yelled into the mic as he surveyed the crowd and adjusted his guitar across his body. He was wearing ripped jeans ad his battle vest with no shirt. Just his necklaces dangling in the smattering of chest hair there.

He let out a wild scream as Gareth knocked his drumsticks together to count them in.

God, Eddie was so sexy and so weird. Steve had no idea how those two things went together but they did and as it turned out, sexy and weird worked for him.

Halfway through the first song, Robin was screaming and jumping around with all the other metal heads but Steve just stood there. He was stuck still, watching Eddie lean back as he ripped through guitar solo before bending forward again and almost kissing the microphone as he pressed his mouth to it and sang lyrics that Steve couldn't even really decipher. It didn't matter though, the words. It was the presence. It was Eddie's whole persona, weird and sexy, silly and sweet, all somehow still coming across even through the terrible noise of heavy metal.

"Hopefully you'll all recognize this next one. I sullied it up a little for you guys but at it's core, it's still just a song about a boy," Eddie winked at Steve and something warm sort of uncoiled in his belly. He couldn't move, couldn't stop watching as Eddie's talented fingers danced across the chords and another screaming heavy metal song filled the air around Steve.

Uptown boy He's been living in his uptown world I bet he's never had a backstreet guy I bet his momma never told him why

Billy Joel, Eddie Munson style. It was loud and chaotic, an explosion of guitar solos and drums. But because Steve already knew the lyrics, he could actually understand the words. And the pronouns that had been changed.

"Holy shit! Stevie, is he singing to you?" Robin yelled, far too close to his ear. "Are you the Uptown Boy in this song?" She shook him by the shoulder but Steve couldn't look away from Eddie. Eddie, who hadn't looked away from Steve. Eventually she gave up, throwing her hands up and dancing away into the crowd.

He'll say I'm not so tough Just because I'm in love with an Uptown boy

Okay. Okay.

Tucking his hair behind his ear, Steve looked up at Eddie through his lashes. He pointed to his own chest and mouthed, "me?"

Letting go of his guitar, Eddie grabbed the mic in one hand and twirled a lock of his frizzy curls in the other. He pulled the mic close, lips hidden behind it and sang quietly, "You know I'm in love with an uptown boy, my uptown boy." When he pulled away from the mic, he tucked the lock of hair across his mouth shyly but Steve could still see his smile lines on one side.

Okay. Okay.

Steve stepped up close enough to the stage that the toes of his clean white sneakers touched it. The platform was about a foot higher than the floor and Eddie met him there, right at the edge, bare sweaty chest heaving with exertion.

Reaching up, Steve grabbed the lapels of Eddie's battle vest and pulled him down, "Guess this makes you my downtown boy," and he kissed him. It was like something out of a movie. The music played on. The screams from the crowd behind him faded into the background. The loudest thing in the room was the echoing thud of Steve's own heart and the little whimper that Eddie let out when Steve slipped his tongue past Eddie's lips to lick inside his mouth.

When Steve pulled away, mouth curving up into a satisfied smile, Eddie made a little grunt of protest and pulled him back. He kissed Steve long enough that the tempo of the music changed and Eddie suddenly let go and shouted, "Oh shit! I'm the lead singer! I'm supposed to be singing!"

Grabbing Steve's collar, Eddie swooped back in and dropped one more quick kiss on Steve's lips and then he nearly knocked over the mic stand in his haste to get back to it.

Weird, sexy gremlin.

Sometimes you do have to stomp on your music taste to properly serenade your crush (the uptown girl boy)

[honeyhotteoks]

across stardust - two (j.yh); section two

summary: you and yunho have worked together for years, idol and makeup artist, but until today you’ve never touched him skin to skin. when the world tilts on its head from just a brush of his cheek, you realize he’s so much more than a crush, he’s your soulmate.one | two (section 1); (*section two) | three | four 🔗read on ao3 ✨across stardust pinterest board

note: i hope everyone enjoys this chapter. it's wildly fluffy and wildly romantic, and then deliciously smutty so i hope everyone enjoys. **this part was too long for tumblr's new word count guidelines! please check out the FIRST half of this part, here!

tags/warnings: idol!yunho, makeup artist!reader, fem!reader, soulmates au, soulmate identifying marks, soulmate tattoos, tattoed!reader, suggestive language, allusions to a past ex who pressured her into things she wasn't ready for, anxiety etc., and finally the smut; heavy makeouts, grinding, oral f!receiving, convos about oral m!receiving, lots of fingering, lots of cock touching, earth shattering soulmate sex, rough sex, soft!dom/pleasure!dom yunho and wide eyed sub!reader, heavy on the dirty talk, HEAVY on the praise. we got a lot of good girls in this one, and good god tagging for gratuitous use of pet names from yunho. lots of missionary and missionary adjacent positions, spooning sex to idk he's on his back and she's on top but laying on him it's hard to describe but by god is it hot please enjoy

pairings: yunho x reader

genre: fantasy, romance, smut || soulmates au

word count: 28.1k

**did you read section one of part two yet? if not, click here!!

Slowly, ever so slowly, the hazy cloud starts to lift. You’re both still shaking, Yunho hiding in your shoulder, his lips brushing against your pulsepoint as he comes back down from his high. Your fingers are locked tightly on his back still, legs pinning him to your pelvis, and it takes time for you to breathe through the last bits of dizziness and start to feel some kind of normal again. 

Finally you feel him exhale out an intentional breath and kiss your shoulder before pressing up on his forearms to look down at you, “Am I crushing you?” He lifts a bit of his body weight off, but you keep your arms locked. 

“Don’t go,” You say, holding him steady. 

He smiles dreamily, and shakes his head, “Not going anywhere,” 

Your legs fall slack on either side of him and you let your hands slide down to rest on his chest, “Good,” 

His eyes flick down over your bodies, to where you’re still connected hip to hip and with the fog of your newly cemented bond lifted, you feel a pang of his concern, “Did I hurt you?” 

You shake your head, smoothing your hand over his chest, “Mm-mm,” 

“You sure?” He takes one of your hands in his and gently kisses your knuckles. 

“You would have felt it if you did,” You remind him, “looks like we were right, we really were made for each other,” 

He rolls his eyes and smiles at your soft teasing, “Uh-huh,” 

You thread your fingers with his and tug him back down to where you rest in the pillows, kissing him as you do, “Mm,” you sigh, “do you think it will feel like that every time?” 

“If it does,” He laughs, “I’ll never make it out of this bed, I better resign now,” 

You nudge him, “Not funny,” 

“It’s a little funny,” He kisses you again, “but maybe I should, just keep you right here on my cock all day,” 

You shiver at his words, “And I’m the tease,” 

He laughs a little but squeezes your hand, “If it feels like that every time, I’m not teasing,” 

Your stomach flips pleasantly at his words, “Well,” your fingers skate down his chest, “we do have three days,” 

“That’s true,” He murmurs, his brow quirking playfully as he pecks a kiss to your lips, “do you have any objections to me keeping you right here?” 

You shake your head, “We’ll have to eat at some point, though,” 

“I’m pretty sure we can manage having sex in the kitchen,” He nips at your lip.

“My kitchen’s pretty small,” 

“I’m very creative,” He counters, his kisses traveling down your jaw now. 

You sigh, breathy as his tongue catches on your throat, “W-where else?” 

He huffs a laugh, “Shower,” 

“Of course,” 

“Couch,” His teeth tug gently at your earlobe and your muscles flutter and clench. Yunho groans lightly, and you feel his cock start to stiffen up inside you again. 

“And then?” Unconsciously, your legs start to widen just a little more. 

“The wall,” His voice is low and warm in your ear, “how see-through is that window, anyways?” 

Your eyes roll and you twitch under him, fingers tightening on his skin, “It’s reflective glass, you c-can’t see through it,” 

Yunho hums pleasantly, sucking at the pulsepoint of your neck and sending a shock of heat down your body, and you feel him start to stiffen up inside you again. A little breathy sound bubbles from your lips, and his hips grind down into yours just a little. His jaw tightens, muscles tense, and you feel him rock hard again and pressing insistently at all your sweet spots. 

“A-again?” You shiver. 

“Baby,” He sighs and chuckles, “all night,” 

Part of you thinks he’s kidding about that, but with that look in his eyes you know he’s more than serious. 

“Usually I’d need a little bit,” He admits, shifting up to his knees and dragging his hands down your body, “but you make me crazy,” 

You nod, moaning as his cock shifts inside you with the position change. Nothing has ever filled you like this, felt like this. The stretch is delicious, the way he seems to reach the tenderest places in your cunt that makes you see stars. The dizziness from the bonding a moment ago has dissipated, but the searing heat is still there, and you shiver, his fingertips skating over your tattoo before his hands find a home on your hips. 

“What do you say, baby? Can you take me again?” His hips pulse slowly, a torturous drag in and out to tease you. 

“Fuck yes,” You moan, one hand flying up to the wall behind you to brace yourself. 

“God, you sound pretty,” He pulses his hips again, punching a surprised moan from your throat, “exactly like that, I’m addicted to that sound.” 

He’s so verbal now that you’re not both swimming in the sensation of your newly forged bond, that night on the phone really was just a glimpse into who your partner is behind closed doors, his idol persona left on the concert hall floor. 

”J-just like that,” You nod, gripping the sheets. 

“Like that?” He teases, dragging you down onto his cock with his hands on your hips, “Yeah?” 

You moan again, “Harder,” 

“Fuck,” He curses, hands tight, sure to bruise, “we’re going to be so good together, aren’t we?” 

Before you can respond, he answers your plea with his hips, picking up the pace so that each pulse forward is met with the drag down of your body, connecting your bodies with firm, sharp snaps, the sound wet and wanton. 

“Y-yes, yes,” You all but sob, pleasure arcing through your belly and a fresh sheen of sweat breaking over your brow. 

Yunho groans, roughly fucking into you in just the way you needed, his body slick with sweat and glistening in the low light, his muscles flexing and relaxing with every snap of his hips. 

His mouth falls open, thumbs digging into your belly where he grips your waist, “Fuck, baby, you’re so tight,” 

Your cunt clenches, “You feel so good,” 

“That’s my good girl,” He breathes, his eyes hazy and lips parted as he watches you coming apart beneath him. 

You moan hard at the praise, your belly fluttering and clenching at the memory of how he talked to you that first time. You’ve thought of it dozens of times, desperate for exactly this, “Yes,” you whine, “I love when you call me that. Love when you talk to me like that,” 

Yunho shudders, his hips stuttering in pace and he groans, “Yeah?” 

“Don’t stop,” You reach for him, nails brushing over his skin as you try to get your hands on him. 

“Not stopping,” He assures you, but his hips do slow as he says, “what else do you like, hmm?” 

You can feel his curiosity, and his arousal too, the way he wants to know every button that makes you tick. Your slick channel pulses around his cock and you sigh in the sheets, “What do you think I like?” 

A half smile quirks his lips and he slows his pace to a stop, “Are you trying to tease me?” 

Your cheeks heat, caught under the exactness of his gaze and the rolling ripple of arousal through your body. 

“Cute,” He murmurs again, but he rolls his hips once hard to make you moan, “so pretty when you moan for me,” 

“God,” You have to pull your eyes away. 

“Don’t be embarrassed,” He brushes your hips with gentler hands. 

“I’m not,” You drop a hand over your face.  

“You’re blushing, baby,” His fingers loop under yours and pull your hand away from your eyes. 

“Don’t pretend it doesn’t turn you on,” You counter, “I can feel you,” 

“Oh?” He quirks a brow, rolling his hips, “You can feel me?” 

“Shut up,” You groan, flutters rolling through your abdomen.

“Let’s see if I can make you really embarrassed, hmm?” 

“Yunho,” You manage, but you’re caught under him, the press of his hips and the firm pressure of his hands.

”You’re mine, right?” His fingers skate over your body as he adjusts himself onto his knees between your splayed open thighs, “You trust me?” 

Anticipation buzzes inside you, your mouth running dry. In this position you’re completely exposed, his eyes raking over your every inch, and when his tongue darts out to wet his lips with his tongue, your breath quickens

“Do you?” He prompts softly. 

“Y-yes,” 

He smirks a little, and then he settles on his heels and squeezes your thighs, “You like when I grab you,” he says, “I can feel your little jolt of excitement every time I do this.” He squeezes again for good measure, and just like he said your stomach jumps. 

“You’re my soulmate,” You sigh, “of course I like it when you touch me,” 

“Mm,” He nods, his hands skating up your skin until he’s cupping your breasts, “fair, how about this?” 

You soften, “That’s nice,” 

“And this?” He squeezes a little and you swallow to keep your composure, but when he finds both your nipples with his thumb and forefinger to give them a gentle pinch, you pant, “This?” 

He watches your eyes go glassy, and you’re sure he can feel the liquid fire pooling in your belly. 

He pinches them again, this time adding a little more pressure and tugging them upwards a bit before he releases. 

You moan sharply, fingers locking down on the bedding beneath you at the sharp zing that passed from your chest to your achingly neglected clit. 

“Is that nice, baby?” He tugs again, “Or am I being too rough with you?” 

He’s teasing you, and you shiver, “Not too rough,” 

The muscle in his jaw tightens but he lets that pass, cataloguing it and moving on, “And I think we’ve already established you like my hands,” 

“No surprise there,” You sigh. 

“My fingers?” He slides his hands up, and your heart starts to beat faster in your chest. Yunho settles one broad hand at the base of your throat, his fingers circling your neck gently. He doesn’t apply any pressure, but the way his thumb and index finger brace each side of your jaw has you trembling in his hold. 

You swallow, throat bobbing against his palm. 

“You do,” He murmurs, his voice a little rougher. With his opposite hand, he ever so gently touches your lips with the pads of his fingers, and like you’ve done it for him a thousand times before you let your mouth fall open. 

He drags his fingers over the curve of your lower lip again, and your cunt spasms around his cock where it's still buried inside you. He smiles at your reaction and then he hooks two of his fingers over your lip, resting on your teeth. 

You gasp sharply, your tongue pressing against the pads of his fingers. 

He waits, his patience a challenge, and then you melt. You dip your head forwards to accept his fingers into your mouth, letting them slide back on your tongue, your lips closing around them so that when you drag your head back you can suck them just a little. 

You can taste yourself on his skin and he groans, “Good girl,” 

Your core clenches again, but as his fingers slip free from your mouth you pulse your muscles again to tease him this time, “You’re easier to read than you think,” you tell him, “I know what you like too.” 

He smiles, full of cheek, and shifts back to roll his hips, “Yeah?” He slides his hand down, spreading it wide over your belly, “I like being inside you,” 

“You like,” You start but he shakes his head.

”I like being buried so deep I can feel it here,” He presses down with the heel of his hand and thrusts forwards, driving his cock into you, and the tight sensation of his cockhead punching into your g-spot leaves you moaning, all teasing forgotten at the sudden sensation of pleasure at his hands. 

Yunho drops over you properly now, gathering you back into his arms and pushing your legs back open wide with a tilt of your hips. He kisses you hard and then his hips start to pulse, “I like knowing this little pussy belongs to me,” 

“Oh, fuck,” You grip down hard on his shoulders. 

“That’s it,” He tips you back, rolling into you, “open up for me,” 

You moan hard, arching into him. 

“Fuck,” He curses low in your ear, “sweetheart, you feel incredible,” 

You nod into his shoulder, “S-so do you, don’t stop,”

“The best thing I’ve ever felt in my life” He manages. 

“Yunho, god,” 

“That’s right,” He slips a hand under our leg, sliding up the back of your thigh to pin you open, “so good,” 

Hot need arcs up your spine, belly tight with burgeoning pleasure, and you shudder a broken sob into his skin, “Please, please,” 

He thrusts hard, groaning with every jut of his hips, “Fuck,” he pants, “you want to know what I really like?” 

“Yes, yes,”

”I like you like this,” His kisses travel over your slick skin, “messy, begging for me,” 

“For you,” You babble almost mindlessly. 

“I like you coming,” He moans, “I could watch you come forever,” 

“Fuck, god,” Your head falls back to the mattress. 

“I want to make you lose yourself,” His pace steadies, and he drops his hand from your leg to the sheets for better leverage, “I want to watch you go so cockdrunk you don’t even know what sounds you’re making, how loud you’re being for me,” 

“Yunho, oh my god,” Your moan is rough, deep in your chest. 

He drops his forehead to your hair and nods, “Exactly like that,” 

Your body is starting to move on its own, your thighs trembling, and your hips canting upwards to catch more friction on your clit as he fucks you, and you whine in heady need. 

In a flash, his hips lock down hard, your body arching into his chest as you start to see the bursts of color behind your tightly shut eyes, but he doesn’t stop moving. Yunho grinds down, rocking his hips to give you extra pressure, and with needy jerks of your body you hump artlessly up into him, pleasure rolling up from your clit as he cock sits heavy and thick inside you. 

His lips connect with your ear as he drops his body weight over you, hands gathering you close, “That’s it, greedy girl,”

Sparks roll up your spine and you moan into his shoulder. 

“That’s it,” His hand slips down and cups your ass as you shudder, “take it, take it,” 

You gasp sharply, nails digging into his shoulders, “Oh, god, oh fuck,” 

“There she is,” He says hot at your cheek, his face leaving heavily against yours, “there’s my girl,” 

You moan, and he circles his hips, grinding deeper.

“You like taking every inch of me, baby?” He flicks your nipple sharply, “You like knowing you were made for me?” 

Your orgasm feels like it’s a breath away, ready to pull you open in a snap, and you sob beneath him, “M-more,” your head falls back as you scramble beneath him, heels digging into the mattress as you arch and try to bring yourself up and over the edge. 

“Come for me,” He kisses you, wet, fast, “come on babygirl,” 

“Ah, ah,” You press your eyes tight, holding him like a lifeline as you reach for it, “p-please, I want to come for you so bad,” 

“That’s it,” 

The pressure in your body builds, but you can’t reach it, and you ache to push your hands between your thighs. In a flash, his hands pulse on your skin, and he kisses you once more before pushing up and away from your body and drawing his cock halfway out of your aching center. 

“No, no,” You reach for him, eyes fluttering open in the hazy dim. 

On his knees once again he starts to rub your clit, his thumb pressing firm circles, the slick sound of it making your eyes roll back. 

“God,” You curse, a ripple of pleasure running through you like a spasm. 

He licks his lips, watching your face intently as he works your swollen bud, “Yeah? Do you need this to come?” 

The husky tone of his voice makes it sound like dirty talk, but you know he’s also asking for real, learning your body for the first time. You nod, “Usually, but, it’s not,”  

“Shh,” He pulls back, sliding his cock out of your wet warmth and kissing your knee before letting your legs fall slack to the mattress and shifting to your side, “I want to give you what you need,” 

“You are,” You tell him as he kisses you, nuzzling into you. 

“I can feel it,” He reminds you as he slides behind you, spooning you now and caging you in with his arms, “I know what you need, let me give it to you,” 

You shudder, melting as his hands slide over your body, “Mm,” you sigh, “I was j-just going to say I don’t think I need it with you,”

“But it’s better?” He asks, lifting your leg and hooking a hand under your knee. 

You angle your hips with an arch of your back, opening yourself to him, and gasp as he directs his cock back into your slick hole, “N-no,” You manage, “I don’t know,” 

He kisses your shoulder, “Let’s find out,” 

With a swift punch of his hips forwards he seats himself again and you moan, gripping down on the pillow under your cheek. 

“There we go,” He croons and you moan into his bicep. He hums, fingers teasing your slit as he pushes in and out, “is it better because I’m bigger?” 

“Yunho!” You gasp as he thrusts again, head falling back against the top of his chest. 

“Do I hit your sweet spots, jagi?” His voice is hoarse with his own need. 

“Yes, god,” You moan. 

“Tell me,” His middle finger finds your clit again, “say it,” 

You babble a response through a taut moan, “You’re so big,” 

“And?” He bites down on your shoulder, rubbing faster.

“You’re the,” You gasp as his hips punch back and forth sharply, “oh, fuck, yes, you’re the biggest cock I’ve ever had,” 

“Good girl,” He moans, “that’s my good girl,” 

Hot pleasure rolls through you at his words and you whine. 

“Feels good?” He teases. 

“So good,” You manage, “so, so good,” 

“Let go,” He kisses your cheek, gritting his teeth to focus on working you with his fingers an the steady pulse of his hips at the same time, “let it go and come,” 

Your hand flies to his forearm, gripping onto him as you cry out, and he pants behind you, kissing any part of your skin he can reach in this position.

“Good girl,” He murmurs low, “just hold onto me,” 

He slides his other hand from your knee to your hip to brace you steady and then he starts to adjust the pace of his hips, still slow, but firmer now so that every snap of his hips strikes a wet smacking drumbeat through the room as he circles his fingers on your slick clit. 

Heat rockets through you, your nails digging into his forearm, and then you feel it. Just a little more will take you right over the edge, and you choke out a breathless moan, “Please, please,” 

“Come,”

Your stomach tightens, legs trembling, and when it hits you crack open in his arms. The wave takes you just the same as before, and distantly through the ringing in your ears, you can hear the muttered pleas of Yunho as he feels the rush of your pleasure through the bond.

You’re boneless, both of you shaking, and then he wraps his arms around you properly and rolls onto his back, your body laid prone across his chest. His cock stays deep inside your pulsing core as you turn, but with a hiss he jerks his hips back and pulls out. 

“Baby, oh my god,” Your chest is heaving, and you reach back for him, finding his cheek. 

He’s quiet, shuddering beneath you.

“You didn’t come?” You manage, still breathless.

He shakes his head against yours, “Don’t want this to end too soon,” 

“We have days,” You tell him, “now please, I want you to feel good,” 

His hands tighten on your hips as he weighs your words, and then with a slow shift of his hips you feel his cock start to press at your entrance again. He slips home with ease, and you moan at the sudden stretch of him again, his cock thick and pulsing with his almost orgasm. 

“I,” He pulses his hips once and groans, “oh, I’m not going to last,” 

“Don’t stop,” You urge him again, “please, just take me,” 

He moans, his stomach tightening, and then he starts to move.

He’s pumping in and out of you now, pinning your back to his chest with his arms banded around you as he rolls his hips and you can feel the tether in him start to fray. He’s getting close, but even without the bond you’d know it. His breath is thready, a hot pant against your ear, and your bodies slide together with slick sweat. 

He feels unreal, stretching you wide with every rhythmic stroke, but you feel his heart hammer when your legs start to fall closed, your walls tightening around him. 

“You’re mine,” He breathes, “s-so beautiful for me,” 

“All yours,” You sigh, and this time with intention you draw your thighs tight together. 

The position is tangled, muscle straining and almost an accident, but suddenly his cock has never felt bigger or thicker or perfectly positioned to hit that spot again and again. He groans, and holds your hips firmly to bounce you back down into every thrust as he chases his release.

Your head falls back over his shoulder, and you reach up to brace yourself on the wall behind your heads, your other hand still cupping his cheek and holding his face to yours. 

“Shit,” He curses, “so tight, fuck, babygirl,” 

You moan, “Please, yes, yes,” 

“So tight and,” he babbles against your cheek, “fuck, still taking every inch of me,” 

“So deep,” You gasp as his pace increases, and your eyes slam shut, a bubbling snap of pleasure rolling up your spine.

”God, I’m,” He shudders, moaning in earnest now, “b-baby, I’m close,” 

You feel his need, suddenly striking you through the unmasked connection of the bond, and though he doesn’t ask you for anything, beg you at all, you know exactly what to give him. 

You moan, arching your back to take his cock inside just a little more with every stroke, “Yunho,” your fingers lace into his hair and you turn your head to find his ear, “come,” 

He huffs, fingers pressing bruises into your hips.

”I’m all yours,” You tell him, voice husky, “this pussy is all yours, all yours,” 

“Mine,” His hips snap harder, a punishing pace, and you feel the taut edge of his pleasure. 

“Made for your cock, baby,” 

“Fuck,” 

“No one’s ever fucked me like this,” You pant, knowing exactly what your words will do to him. 

He groans, burying his face in your shoulder.

”C-come inside me,” You beg, “make me yours,” 

His teeth sink into your shoulder, his hips erratic, “Mine, mine,” 

“Yes, baby, please,” You rock your hips, taking over the rolling motion where he’s started to falter. 

“I’m,” His words are cut off with a groan, and his hips slam up twice more before he holds himself in deep and you feel the hot sensation of his cum pumping inside you. 

His orgasm yanks you down into your own in an unexpected flash of sensation, your vision fuzzy, head dizzy, and your body jerks in ecstatic fits and starts as you moan, wanton and wordless in his ear. 

“One more,” He murmurs, recovering from his own heady orgasm faster than you, his hand pushing between your locked thighs, middle finger circling on your pulsing clit, “just one more,” 

Your hips jerk with overstimulation and you whine, “I can’t,”

”Yes,” He kisses your forehead, bracing your body with one and while his other blissfully tortures your aching cunt, “come on, sweetheart,” 

“Yunho, oh, oh, God,” Your orgasm stretches, his fingers cresting you straight up into another shuddering peak. 

His body curls around you, dipping to the side when you jerk, holding you into his chest as he works you through it. The sound of his tender voice carries you up, “There we go,” he croons, “oh, god I love you,” 

“C-Coming,” Is all you can manage, and your body folds in on itself, your orgasm white hot and almost painful. 

He shudders as he feels you finish, and slows his fingers, “Good girl, come. I love you so much, can you feel me inside you, baby?” 

You manage a nod, moaning into the sheets, riding it out with rocks of your hips until it turns from pleasure to sharp overstimulation and you whine, pushing his hand away. 

“I got you,” He wraps you up tight, spooning you from behind, “shh, you’re okay,” 

Trembling, you pull his arms to your chest, using him as your anchor as he shifts his hips and finally uncouples your bodies.

“You’re okay,” He repeats, “just breathe,” He kisses your hair softly, soothing you with gentle touches as your breath returns. 

“M-mhm,”

”You’re perfect,” His lips travel to your shoulder, “I love you,” 

“I love you too,” You murmur, resting your lips on his knuckles. 

“Love you, love you,” He mutters against your skin, and you sink into him, a contented smile on your lips. 

You lay wrapped up together for what feels like hours, both of you coming back into your bodies slowly. His arms slacken, and you slowly roll onto your front, cheek against the cool sheets as you recover from the whirlwind of bonding.

He murmurs sweetness against your spine, massages circles into your hips, and little by little your mind reconnects too. 

Yunho sidles down in the bed, cuddling you from behind, “Are you hungry, sweetheart?” 

You shake your head a little but you say, “Maybe a little,” 

“Let’s go downstairs, I’ll fix you something,” He says, even though it’s your apartment. 

You smile and shake your head again, “Five more minutes?” 

He kisses your shoulder and you feel him nod, “Five more minutes,” 

Cocooned in his warmth, and in the perfection of your bed, you let yourself relax. 

More than five minutes have come and gone when he finally speaks again. Yunho’s fingers skate up and down your spine, slowly tracing each vertebrae like he’s making a mental map of you, “When did you get your first one?” 

“Hmm?” You sigh, looking slightly over your shoulder at him. 

“Tattoo,” He clarifies, now ghosting his touch over the large crane on your back, “you have so many, but when did you start?” 

You stretch in the sheets, and roll towards him, shifting onto your back now and twisting your arm to show him the delicate lines of your first tattoo, English script in faded black. desire.

He passes the pad of his thumb over the lettering and the corner of his mouth quirks up. 

“Not because of the song,” You laugh softly, “I was seventeen,” 

“Hmm,” He lets his fingers travel up, studying more of your lines of ink, “young,” 

He traces the lines of the flowers, the fan, the stippled black and gray twisting across your skin. 

“I know,” You tug the sheet up a little higher, tucking it around your naked body to ward off some of the chill of your apartment, “I just wanted to do something reckless for once, but then once I started,” 

He nods, listening, waiting for more. 

“I think I wanted to get under my parent's skin,” You admit, “they were already so disappointed in me, so I thought why not give them something to be really disappointed in?” 

He frowns a little, a crease between his brows, “I hate that you felt like that,” 

“I’m okay now,” You promise him, “Hana and I rarely see them, just holidays and phone calls on birthdays, that kind of thing.” 

He nods, pressing a kiss to your hair, “Still,” 

You give him a tiny shrug, and you find yourself reaching up to your soul mark and brushing it, “For a while I was just running, from them and then from this,” 

“Your mark?” He asks softly.

 You nod, “It was a reminder of that house, of how much they didn’t believe in it. They never even wanted Hana and I to daydream about it, to wonder what it would be like to find our soulmate. They were so set on us following the path they laid out, and for a long time the mark was a reminder of what I wasn’t supposed to want.” 

He swallows tightly, and you feel his discomfort at your words, the flicker of anger in his gut. 

“I’m alright,” You continue, “but the tattoos started like that. First something to provoke them, and then something to distract myself from seeing this. I thought about covering it, but,” 

“You did?” His eyes widen. 

“I considered it,” You tuck your hand in his and give him a squeeze, “but then I realized that the farther I got from believing this could happen for me, the closer I got to what they wanted all along,” 

He studies your expression for a moment and then scoots closer, tucking your bodies together and cupping your cheek, “When did you start believing it could happen again?” 

You remember it so clearly, the pact you made with Iseul, the lines you wrote in your journal that year. You smile and look up at him, “When I got the job at KQ, Iseul and I went out for celebratory drinks when I received the offer letter,” 

His expression softens, his thumb brushing along your cheekbone.

”I decided it was time to grow up,” You explain, “so we agreed that we would date, have fun, and keep looking for the one, but we’d never settle down for less than our soulmate, no matter how long it took to find them.” 

Yunho dips towards you, kissing you tenderly, “I love you,” 

Tucking into his chest you nod, “I love you too,” 

His arms loop around you, cuddling you so that you’re nestled into his warmth, “For what it’s worth,” he murmurs, his fingers carding through your hair, “however you came to them, they’re beautiful, you’re beautiful,” 

A brief flicker of tears pricks the back of your eyes and you press a kiss to his sternum, “Thank you,” you kiss him again, “I love them now, and now I get them for myself,” 

He hums, nodding with his lips on the crown of your head, nuzzling you gently. 

For a moment it’s quiet, just your heart and his beating in time against each other, but then your stomach tightens as you realize something you’ve been neglecting.

 You sigh heavily, “I need to call Hana,” 

“You haven’t told her?” He asks, despite already knowing the answer.

 “No, have you told your brother?” 

His hand stills on your back, “I texted him,” 

Your eyebrows raise, “You texted him?” 

He nods, “Is that alright?” 

“Of course,” You say in a rush, “I just, I don’t know, I’m surprised.” 

“We don’t see each other often,” Yunho says, “but we’re close. It felt strange not telling him something this big in my life,”

You nod, “Exactly.” 

He brushes a hand up and down the length of your back again and then starts to untangle his body from yours, “How about this, can I use your shower?” 

“Sure,” You’re about to tell him where it is, all the little quirks, but he keeps going.

”After, I’ll run back to my place and pick up things for the next few days,” You strangely hate the idea of him leaving, but you know that was always part of the plan considering he didn’t bring anything with him, “while I’m busy give her a call,”

”It’s late,” You find yourself protesting. 

He smiles, “It’s not, you’re nervous,”

You rub at your chest, feeling the curl of anxiety there, “Yeah,” 

“She loves you,” Yunho reminds you as he pulls himself out of bed, “and she knows what having a soulmate feels like, she’s going to be so happy for you, for us.” 

“You’re right,” You breathe.

 “I know you miss her,” He adds softly, “and I know you want to tell her, let me give you the space to do that.” 

Warmth expands in your chest and all you can do is nod. 

He smiles wide, pressing a kiss to your forehead and then he stretches, “Alright, shower’s this way?” Yunho nods towards the obvious path towards the bathroom. 

You nod again, and he sighs, “Perfect,” 

He disappears down the hall and for a brief moment you’re alone with your thoughts. You let your gaze go unfocused towards the ceiling, and you just feel for a moment. You feel different, lighter and heavier at the same time, like all the cells in your body turned over at once, but the knotted rope between you and him feels thicker, corded, braided, unbreakably sure. 

For the first time in weeks, all of a sudden, you feel like you can call her. 

You rub your chest again, rolling out of bed and making your way across the lofted bedroom on slightly shaky legs before finding your robe on its familiar hook and wrapping it around yourself, a smooth silk in floral and dark red. With a deep breath, you pin up your hair and find your phone. The sound of running water comes through the bathroom door, so you make your way downstairs for a bit of privacy and to get a cool glass of water. Once you’re tucked into the familiar corner of your couch with a downy blanket over your lower half, you find Hana’s contact in your phone and you call. 

She picks up after a few rings, “Hello?” 

“Hey,” 

“Was your flight delayed?” She asks, her bright voice soothing you instantly, “You always call me when you get in,” 

“It wasn’t delayed,” You tell her honestly. 

“Ah,” She says, “did you crash immediately? Take a crazy nap? You know that will fuck with adjusting back to the time zone,” 

“Hana,” You sigh, and all at once you wish he was next to you. 

“I know, I know,” She makes a sound, tongue against teeth, “I’m just saying,”

  “I didn’t sleep, or I mean, I did on the plane,” 

“That’s good,” You hear glasses clinking on her side of the line.

  “What are you up to, am I interrupting?” You ask.

  “Hmm?” She says as if she didn’t hear you, and then corrects, “No, sorry, nothing really just some chores,” 

“Oh, good, I thought it might be too late to call,” You admit.

  “It’s only nine,” Hana says and you can practically picture her eye roll. 

Upstairs the sound of your shower taps turning off draws your attention and your eyes flick up to the landing. 

“So, your flight was okay?” Your sister’s voice in your ear brings you back to the present and you nod. 

“Yeah, listen,” 

“Oh,” She cuts you off, “Em wants to know how you liked Paris, you didn’t post anything on Instagram she was devastated,”

  Em, Emmanuelle, Hana’s wife and your sister-in-law, born in Korea but half French on her mother’s side, who spent every summer in Lyon. Of course she would want to know how your first trip to France was, and your head was so wrapped up in Yunho you didn’t even think to text her.

  “I loved it,” You tell your sister honestly, “so much, I’ll send you both some pictures as soon as,” 

“You better,” Hana interjects again, “Em’s right here she’s asking if you had time to see the city?” 

“A little, but, Hana,” 

The door upstairs opens, and Yunho quietly pads back to your lofted bedroom, one of your white towels slung low around his hips. His hair is wet, mussed from rubbing a towel through it, his chest pink from the hot water and steam. Just seeing him makes you feel at ease, and he meets your eyes, “You okay?” He whispers. 

You nod, and he searches for his clothes strewn all over the floor of your bedroom. 

“Hana, what?” Your sister prompts, and you realize it’s not the first time she’s said it, “y/n, are you okay? You sound weird,”

Suddenly, you’re deep in a memory. Hana’s tear streaked face in the hallway of your first apartment, a backpack on her shoulder and a defiant jut to her chin. Sixteen years old and standing her ground more firmly than you ever had in your life up to that point, the strength in her voice when she told you she found her soulmate and she wasn’t going to give her up. 

“y/n?” Hana says again, concern laced through her voice. 

You find Yunho on the landing, watching as he rubs a towel over his hair again, and the words finally tumble out, “I found him,” 

“You, what?” She asks, confused.

  “Hana,” His eyes flick to yours and you find yourself smiling, blush creeping back into your cheeks, “I found him,” 

The penny drops, “Oh my god,” 

”I know,” You reply, and Yunho grins, watching you from the landing.

  “Oh my god?” Hana all but shrieks and you laugh as she reacts, calling to Emmanuelle, voice muffled briefly as she shifts the phone. 

“I know,” You manage. 

“Is he French?” Hana babbles, “That would be insane, that would be crazy if both of us,”

  You duck your head in laughter, “What? No, no he’s not French,” 

“What countries were you in? How the hell did you bump into him - abroad of all places, that’s why it took so long, that’s what I was always saying,” She rambles a mile a minute, and it’s always so hard to slow her down once she gets going, barely taking a breath between sentences. 

“Hana,” You cover your mouth with your hand, “Hana, he’s not foreign, he’s Korean,” 

Yunho’s still smiling as he comes down the stairs, but he’s not dressed to leave, he’s dressed comfortably in just his t-shirt and his boxer briefs. Relief fills you with the knowledge that he’s not about to leave, and he watches you quietly as you try to navigate your sister as she jumps from conclusion to conclusion. 

  “That’s even crazier,” She says, “how the hell did you bump into another Korean outside of Korea while you were working constantly?” 

“Let her tell the story,” You hear Em’s voice in the background. 

“Am I on speaker?” You laugh. 

“You are now,” Em replies this time, “hi, y/n,” 

“Hey Emmie,” 

“I have your sister restrained,” She says, but you hear an irritated huff from Hana, “now, tell us what’s going on and this time Hana’s going to listen,” 

“Shut up,” Hana gripes quietly, with no real malice. 

“You love me,” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Hana says, “alright, I’m sorry, I’m listening,” 

Yunho waits patiently, but the moment you reach for him, he crosses from the foot of your stairs to your place on the couch. He had felt it, how much you needed him here, that much you’re sure of when he twines your fingers together. With his touch as a tether, you finally tell them, “I didn’t bump into someone random, and you cannot say ‘I told you so’,” you start off, “but, it’s Yunho. My soulmate is Yunho,” 

There’s a sharp intake of breath on the other side of the call. Hana is rarely stunned silent, but you wait. She knows the group well, from her teasing when you first started there all the way through listening to you tell her stories about work. There’s no doubt in your mind that she remembers your quietly guarded crush. 

“Is he treating you well?” She finally asks, emotion thread in her voice. 

“Yes,” You breathe.

  “And you love him?” 

“Yes,” 

She pauses, “And he,” 

“Yes, Hana,” You roll your eyes, but feel the rush of tears, “obviously,” 

Yunho brushes his thumb over your knuckles and gives you a squeeze. 

“God,” Hana says with a little gasp, “you’re bonded already, aren’t you?” 

You slide a little to the right to get closer to him, “We are,” you confess. 

For a moment you brace yourself, nervous at her reaction to not being told sooner, especially after everything you’ve been through together. At the anxious tumble of your stomach, Yunho separates your hands and reaches around to pull you into his chest and presses a kiss to your temple. 

All your fears disappear in a matter of seconds. Hana laughs sharply and then she’s right back to herself, “Oh my god, I don’t care I have to say it, I told you so.” 

You grin, a few tears spilling over, “Hey,” 

“When have you ever had a crush that lasted longer than a day?” She exclaims, “I knew it,” 

“Hana!” It’s Em who exclaims this time, taking the words right out of your mouth and you fall apart into laughter. 

Yunho laughs too, softly against your hair and you blush and cover your cheek with your hand at the knowledge he can hear your sister’s teasing words. 

“I’m just saying I knew,” 

“God, stop,” You curl into yourself, your face in Yunho’s neck, “you’re embarrassing me,” 

“Holy shit,” Hana exclaims, “is he there?” 

Yunho slides his hand over your thigh and smoothly shifts you into his lap so he can wrap his arms around you, and you sigh, “Yeah, he’s here,” 

“You sound so happy it’s freaking me out,” 

“I am happy, Hana,” You confess, “I’m really, really happy.”

She takes a breath and you can hear the emotion caught in her voice too, “When can I come up to Seoul? We’re overdue for a visit,”

“Soon,” You promise her. 

“The minute you’re free,” She says, “Em and I will make the time, you just say when,”

“I’ll look,” You nod, relaxing into Yunho’s hold, “but soon, I promise.” 

“I want to meet him,” She insists.

“He wants to meet you both too,” You tell them, and Yunho nods against you. 

“His schedule must be crazy, but,”

“Han,” Em interrupts, and you can practically see your sister in law calming her wife with gentle hand motions. 

“I should go,” You finally say into the phone, “but I miss you,” 

Yunho’s hand smooths up and down your back.

“I miss you too, Hani-ya,” You haven’t called her that in years, your beloved little sister who grew up too fast, but the familiar affection slips out of you with ease. 

“I love you,” She says, “I’m so happy for you, I’m so,” 

You swallow tightly and find Yunho’s hand again, “I know, it’s how I felt when you told me about Em,” 

Hana laughs, the sound wet with tears, “Oh my god,” she sniffs and you hear her voice muffled as she scrubs the tears from her cheeks, “I knew we’d both find them, mom and dad were too shitty for us not to be happy now,” 

You smile, nodding with your head on Yunho’s shoulder, “That I know for sure,” 

There’s a brief moment of silence, both of you collecting your own emotions, and then Hana sighs, “I’m sorry, I’ll let you go, but let us know about coming up.”

”I will,” 

“And, y/n,” Your sister says, a mischievous edge back in her voice, “tell him he better take care of you, okay? Tell him to pick you first, okay? Every time,” 

Your throat constricts, and Yunho’s lips brush against your forehead. Before you can get your voice back in control to answer her, he does it for you, “Tell her I already have, I will,” 

You clear the emotion from your throat, “Did you hear that?” 

“Yeah,” Hana manages.

 “He’s got me,” You tell her honestly, “I promise,” 

Hana takes a breath, “Good,” she sniffles, “now stop talking to me and go get laid or something, if we keep talking I’ll keep crying,” 

You laugh a little at your sister’s attempt at deflection, “Yeah, or something,” 

“I love you, I’ll see you so soon, okay?” Hana says. 

“Soon,” You promise again. 

“Bye, unnie,” Em cuts in, affection in her voice, “we are so, so happy for you.” 

“Thank you,” You smile, “I’ll send you some pictures of France, I’m so sorry I forgot before,” 

“Ah, that’s okay,” Em says warmly, “I think you had better things to focus on,” 

Yunho squeezes your hand. 

“Take care,” She says, “we’ll see you soon,” 

“You too,” 

Em ends the call, and you let your phone slip back into your lap, letting out a sigh of relief and exhaustion against him. 

Yunho stays quiet for a moment, giving you a second of space, and then he kisses you and leans down to find your eyes, “Baby?” 

“Yeah,” 

“You okay?” He murmurs. 

You nod, pressing your lips to his and sinking into him, “I am,” you reply softly when the kiss breaks, “thank you for staying,” 

“I realized I couldn’t go tonight,” He says, “I need to be with you a while longer,” 

You squeeze his hand still laced in yours.

Yunho’s eyes are glassy with his own unshed tears, and he swallows and blinks to get himself together before he brings your knuckles to his lips and gives you a tender kiss, “I will, by the way,” he says gently, “pick you first,” 

You know what he’s talking about, his life in the public eye and his new life with you behind the scenes. You feel his honesty, his confidence, the truth in his words, and all you can do is shake your head. You never want him in that position, especially after everything he’s worked for, “You won’t have to.” 

“But I will,” He promises it to you like a vow, sealing it with a kiss, “I always will.” 

“I will too,” You whisper, “I’m not giving this up,” 

“You won’t have to,” He echoes, a soft smile on his lips. 

His kisses are soft, tender now, and he holds you close as he reminds you of all the ways he loves you. Your quiet apartment cocoons you together, a pause in time just for tonight. Night ticks by and Seoul moves outside, but in each other’s arms you stay still, a stone jetty holding steady in the push and pull of the tide. 

[hoshifighting]

Hiii, today I was scrolling through TT and found out that during THE act, the vagigas sometimes make the "farting" kind of noises because of the air inside. Soooo my first thought was, what do you think SVT's reaction would be if it happened during your nasty time👀

And also, God bless you and your talent, thank you for sharing your works and making my life a little better 🙏

seventeen reaction to queefing

WARNINGS: smut, sensitive content.

seungcheol: your eyes go wide, and you're immediately like, “oh my god, i’m so sorry,” scrambling to pull the blanket over your head like it’s a shield from embarrassment. this man doesn’t even blink. “baby, what?” he chuckles, all warm and raspy like he’s genuinely confused why you’re apologizing. “that’s normal. you think i care about that? nah, keep going. don’t even start, baby girl. you’re not running away from because of something like this.”

jeonghan: you freeze, horrified, your cheeks blazing as you blurt out, “oh my god, that wasn’t—” “hey, hey,” jeonghan interrupts, lifting his head to look at you with that stupidly pretty face of his. “don’t even think about it.” “it’s embarrassing!” “it’s air.” he raises an eyebrow like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. you groan, trying to cover your face, but he gently tugs your hands away, planting a kiss on the tip of your nose. “relax, babe. you think i’m gonna stop worshipping you over something that happens to literally everyone? no way.”

joshua: when you freeze faster than someone caught stealing snacks at 2 a.m. joshua pauses too, blinking like he’s processing it. then he tilts his head, a soft smile creeping onto his face. “its okay.” he says, his voice soft and reassuring, like he’s trying to calm a spooked puppy. “yeah, but it’s… ugh!” you groan, wanting the bed to swallow you whole. he chuckles, leaning down to kiss your shoulder. “y/n, seriously, it’s not a big deal.” when he moves to kiss you properly, his hands trailing up your sides, you realize he’s deadass unfazed. the man’s unshakable.

junhui: his first reaction is to get wide-eyed “woah, was that—?” “jun, no,” you cut him off, absolutely mortified. “nah, don’t do that.” his voice softens as he cups your face, looking at you like you’re the only person in the world. “it’s fine, babe, I swear..”

hoshi: you’d barely even noticed it happened, but he would. blinking like his brain just blue-screened. you’re already spiraling, trying to bury your face in the pillow. “oh my god, i’m so sorry—” “no, no, babe!” he’s quick to stop you, his voice practically tripping over itself. “it’s fine, it’s fine! actually, it’s kinda funny, right? like, pfft.” you peek up at him, and the man’s already cracking up, his laugh so contagious you can’t help but smile. “you’re not mad?” “mad? babe, why would I get mad?” you can’t even be embarrassed anymore because he’s so earnest about it, his hands gently pulling you back to him.

wonwoo: he blinks once, twice, and then tilts his head slightly like he’s processing. “dont worry, it’s not like you planned it.” h “yeah, but…” “no ‘buts,’” he interrupts, brushing his lips against yours. “then let me put it simply: i don’t care. i just care about you.”

woozi: then he clears his throat, trying to pretend he didn’t hear anything. but you’re immediately scrambling to apologize, cheeks flaming. “i swear i didn’t—” “stop,” woozi cuts you off. he sits back slightly, giving you space as his eyes meet yours. “you don’t need to explain. it’s not a big deal. it’s just air. you think that’s gonna scare me off or something?” you blink at him, his calm behavior throwing you off. “uh, i don’t know. maybe?” he huffs out a laugh, leaning down to kiss the corner of your mouth. “you’re ridiculous,” he murmurs. “it’s normal, and it doesn’t change how much i’m into you. so, relax, okay?”

minghao: you immediately stiffen, your hands flying to your face as you groan. “oh my god, hao, i’m so sorry.” he doesn’t even falter, just gives you a calm, amused look. “y/n, why are you apologizing?” “because—ugh! you know why!” “nothing to apologize for.” “but it’s so embarrassing.” “to who?” he counters, his hands sliding down your sides, grounding you. “not to me. now, can we move past this and get back to what we were doing?”

mingyu: holds you when you’re already trying to roll away from him, muttering a frantic string of apologies. “woah, woah, babe!” mingyu’s big hands are quick to pull you back, his voice full of concern. “what’s wrong?” “what’s wrong? you heard that!” he blinks, clearly confused for a second, and then realization dawns on his face. instead of laughing, he smiles. “oh, that? babe, that’s nothing.” “it’s still embarrassing,” you mumble, avoiding his eyes. “hey, you know I don’t care about stuff like that, right? it’s just us here. no judgment. ever.”

seokmin: it happens, and the room goes silent. you’re already halfway to a meltdown. he’s biting his lip, trying so hard not to laugh, but you can see the corners of his mouth twitching. “sorry, sorry,” he says quickly, waving his hands. “i’m not laughing at you, i swear.” “but you’re laughing!” you groan, trying to bury yourself in the sheets. he gently tugs the sheets down, his expression softening. “okay, listen. it’s not a bad thing, and then this little human moment happens, and it’s kind of adorable.” “adorable?!” he grins, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “yeah. because it’s you. now, come here and stop hiding from me.”

seungkwan: you immediately sit up, your face buried in your hands. “oh no kwannie,” seungkwan sits up too, rubbing your back gently. “y/n, it’s fine. seriously.” “it’s not fine! it’s so embarrassing!” “babe,” he says, his tone both gentle and slightly exasperated, “do you know how many awkward things I’ve done in my life? this doesn’t even make the top 100.” you glance at him, and he gives you a reassuring smile.

vernon: would 100% just act like it didn’t happen, not because he’s trying to be cool, but because he genuinely doesn’t think it’s a big deal. like, he hears it, goes, “huh,” and moves on with life. later, if you bring it up, he’d be like, “oh, yeah, that. it’s normal, right?” but also, he’s got this tiny smirk like he secretly finds it funny but isn’t about to embarrass you over it. chillest mf alive.

chan: this baby would be so flustered but trying so hard to play it cool. he’d pause, his ears would go all red, and he’d be like, “uh… are you okay?” and when you explain, he’d just nod all serious like, “oh, yeah, that’s normal. totally normal. happens all the time, i think. yeah.” but you know he’s silently combusting inside. later, he’d probably google it just to make sure he handled it right. adorably awkward but trying his best.

[loafysainz]

the parent trap (remake) | CS 55

cast: carlos sainz x fem!reader

warn: 100% fiction & remake

next chap

PART 12 I LOVE YOU MOM

Y/N couldn't help but smile as she watched her son, Mattia, excitedly explain their latest project to the family. 

“Oh! You look more and more like your mother every day, Mattia,” his grandfather, said warmly, his voice tinged with nostalgia. 

Matheo grinned, clearly loving the compliment. “Thanks, Grandpa.” 

Y/N, sitting at the other end of the table, raised her glass, asking Martin for a refill of wine. He glanced at the letter on the table—a peculiar one with an intricate drawing of what appeared to be a dog and a hastily scribbled "911" in bold letters. 

Before anyone could notice his curiosity, there was a sudden commotion. Matheo, leaned so far forward in his chair that he tipped it over, landing flat on his back with a loud thud. 

The room went silent in shock

“Mattia! Are you okay, baby?” Y/N was by his side in seconds, her face painted with concern. 

Matheo scrambled to his feet, brushing himself off with an awkward smile. “Yeah, I’m fine, Mom. I just felt a little dizzy, that’s all. No big deal. Mom, can I go out for a while?” 

Y/N frowned but didn’t push further. “Do you want me to come with you?” 

“No, no,” Matheo replied quickly, his voice a little too high-pitched to be convincing. “I’ll just step out for a minute. I’ll be fine, promise!” He grabbed his coat and bolted for the door before anyone could ask another question. 

As the door clicked shut, his grandfather narrowed his eyes. He muttered under his breath, “You’re not fooling me, young man.” 

Matheo rushed through the bustling streets until he found a public phone booth. He slipped inside, closed the door, and fumbled with the phone, his heart racing. He quickly dialed the operator. “Um, could I make a collect call to Madrid, Spain?” 

Meanwhile, in Madrid, Mattia paced the length of his room like a tiger in a cage, glancing anxiously at the phone. When it finally rang, he lunged for it so fast he almost tripped. 

“Hello?” he answered breathlessly. 

“Mattia, what’s going on?” Matheo’s voice came through, laced with worry. 

“God, Matheo, I’m about to collapse,” Mattia blurted out. 

“Okay, chill. Just explain.” 

“Dad,” Mattia said dramatically, pausing for effect. “Dad is getting married.” 

Matheo froze, his jaw dropping. “What?!” 

“I’m serious! The suit and gown, the ceremony, everything. It’s happening in two weeks. If we don’t do something now, it’s game over. The only way to stop him is to reunite him with Mom.” 

Matheo leaned his forehead against the glass of the phone booth, guilt bubbling up. He should’ve listened to Mattia earlier. “Alright. I’ll handle Mom. There’s event tonight, and I’ll drop the news on her tomorrow morning.” 

“Please, Theo. This has to work. And hey... good luck.” 

“Yeah, you too. I’ll call you later.” Matheo hung up, took a deep breath, and opened the door to leave, only to bump straight into someone waiting outside. 

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t see—oh… oh…” he stammered, his heart sinking when he realized who it was. 

His grandfather, stood there with his signature knowing smile. “Uh-huh… oh, oh.” 

“This is not what it looks like,” Matheo blurted out, already feeling the walls closing in. 

His grandfather just looped his arm through his as they began to walk down the park path. “Sweetheart, I may be old, but I notice ‘everything’. Now, spill it. What’s this all about?” 

“It’s... it’s a long story,” he mumbled, desperately trying to come up with an excuse. 

His grandfather patted his arm reassuringly. “Well, lucky for you, I’ve got all the time in the world.” 

Matheo sighed, realizing there was no escaping him. “Alright, but promise you won’t freak out.” 

“No promises,” he teased, a mischievous glint in his eye. 

And with that, Matheo began unraveling the tangled web of plans, secrets, and schemes, knowing full well his grandfather was the last person he could ever truly fool. 

*****

Matheo paced nervously, his shoe scuffing the floor as he debated his next move. From the other side of the door, he could hear his mother speaking in rapid French, her voice calm and composed despite the chaos in his chest. Biting his lip, he leaned against the door, just barely cracking it open to peek inside. His mother sat at her desk, phone pressed to her ear, her words flowing effortlessly like music he didn’t understand. 

Behind him, his grandfather, gently placed a hand on his shoulder. “We don’t have all day, gentleman,” he said, his tone both firm and loving.

Matheo glanced up at him, hesitant, but he smiled at him, his eyes full of encouragement. “You can do this,” he whispered. 

Taking a deep breath, Matheo pushed the door open wider and stepped inside. His mother, Y/N, was just finishing her call, something about a new design that she had completed and a delicious carbonara pasta she’d been craving. She glanced up, surprised to see her son standing there, and quickly hung up.   

“Mattia, my baby,” she said, setting the phone down.

But before Matheo could say anything, he froze, his courage faltering. Without a word, he dove under the covers beside his mom, pulling the cover over his head. Y/N blinked, her confusion quickly melting into amusement. 

“Mattia?” Y/N called, moving to sit beside the bundle of blankets that was her son. “What are you doing there?” 

From beneath the covers came a muffled response: “I have to go see Mattia!”

Y/N laughed softly, trying to open the cover. "So, where are you supposed to meet ‘Mattia’ ? Tell me, Mattia?"

“Mattia? Sweetheart?” Y/N called his son, she glancing back at her dad, who stood in the doorway with an amused but knowing look. 

“In Madrid. With his father, Carlos Sainz,” Matheo mumbled, his voice trembling slightly. 

At that, Y/N froze. Her face paled, and she shot a look at her Dad, who simply gave a small nod, urging her to listen. Slowly, Y/N pulled the covers back, revealing Matheo’s nervous face. 

“You’re not Mattia, are you?” she asked softly, her voice wavering. 

Matheo shook his head, tears welling up in his eyes. “No,” he whispered. 

Y/N heart clenched as the truth began to dawn on her. Her hand reached out, brushing a stray soft hair from his forehead as her eyes filled with emotion. 

“You’re Matheo,” she said, her voice cracking slightly. “My Matheo.”

Matheo nodded again, this time letting the tears spill over. “Mattia and I met at camp,” he began, his words tumbling out in a rush. “We figured everything out, about you and Dad, and we decided to switch places. I just... I wanted to meet you so badly. And Mattia wanted to meet Dad. I’m so sorry, Mom. Please don’t be mad. I love you so much, and I just... I just hope someday you’ll love me for me, not because you think I’m Mattia.”

Y/N breath hitched, and she pulled her son into her arms, holding him tightly as if afraid he might disappear. “Oh, my baby,” she whispered. “I’ve loved you your whole life. Always. With all my heart.”     

From the doorway, his grandfather dabbed at his eyes with a tissue, muttering something about how dusty the room had gotten. Meanwhile, Martin, their family butler, stood openly sobbing, his dramatic cries echoing down the hall. The grandfather rolled his eyes and gently shut the door to give Y/N and Matheo some privacy. 

Matheo pulled back slightly, looking up at his mother with a hopeful expression. “Does this mean we have to switch back now?” 

Y/N let out a soft, bittersweet laugh, brushing away her own tears. “Technically, you belong to your dad, and Mattia belongs to me,” she said. “It’s... complicated.” 

Matheo frowned, his nose scrunching up. “I don’t like this arrangement,” he said firmly. “It’s horrible.” 

Y/N chuckled, her heart swelling with affection for her bold little boy. “You’re right,” she admitted. “It is horrible.” 

“Then let’s go to Madrid,” Matheo said decisively, his small hands gripping hers. “We can talk to Dad and figure this out together.” 

Y/N hesitated for a moment, the thought of seeing Carlos again making her heart tighten. But when she looked into Matheo’s eyes, so full of determination and love, she knew there was no other option. 

“That’s what we’ll do,” she said finally, her voice steady. “Don’t worry, my love. I’ll take care of everything.”

The two hugged each other again. Matheo sighed, feeling free from all the weight of the lie he had kept, while Y/N only thought “Oh God I have to see Carlos Sainz again. I'll be struck by lightning right now.”

prev chap

[badly-drawn-doflamingo]

I think I’ve figured it out, that missing piece.

My partner mentioned to me off handedly “Brook is Austrian, isn’t he?” and that alone has just resurfaced this post, and along with it, the missing ties I believe I’ve possibly solved.

In figure 3, 4 and 5, we see Brook react unlike himself, bristling and biting back against a very certain group, and only this group so far has caused this reaction; Germa 66.

We hear how he seemingly has dealt with them first hand, his age not being a factor due to the fact he was isolated, even if he tries to brush it off to Reiju as shown in Fig. 5. This sounds like personal experience, and that is expected both due to his confirmed military time AND because of actual real world history.

The Anschluss took place in March 12, 1938, being the forceful taking of Austria by Nazi Germany. This was not opposed by nearby countries due both to fear and bias, and no aid was sent until much later, when the damage had already been done. Now, knowing how Oda mixes his history such as Ceaser and the sickening unit 717 experiments, and Che Guevara and Dragon, WW1-WW2 are not off the table what so ever. If Oda went this route, taking inspiration from these events and twisting it into Brook's story, it would solve all questions I had left open in the above document;

Brook lost his kingdom to Germa 66 or at least faced heavy damages by their military, and the World Government did nothing but enforced them as their own royal family, excusing them of their actions and crimes. What's worse than being a pirate? Being a Nazi. Of course you'd join some red neck, even if it meant being below him, it's freedom and its your own morals against the land that betrayed you. How do you protect people as a fallen knight? Do the next best thing, spread joy with your other talent; music. Brook is the type to stay with his men however morals come first, and I highly doubt he would simply go along with such a change, if this IS the case, which I highly suspect it is. We hear a lot from Brook and how he handles himself, and fleeing for any other reason other than desperation seems off the table. It would have to be something monstrous to make him change sides, and this would absolutely be it. Keep an eye in the future for more information on the West Blue, for it seems to be a war sea, including Issoh's blinding of himself due to seeing the atrocities and crimes the government and war itself did to his people, and people like Laffite who were so terrible they were utterly banished. God Valley and Ohara are also places that once stood in the West Blue, however it seems there is more to be explored in the future.

Brook’s Past, Military and Everything Between [ An Essay kinda ]

Brook’s past is not a thing many people seem to mention or think about, at least in full, however it’s something that's plagued me. Not only as a Brook fan, but simply out of the odd implications it has towards the future, if any. Oda’s planted too many seeds for it to utterly be nothing; there’s so much odd and seemingly out of place comments and facts stated by Brook and others towards this missing history. However, knowing that the show is beginning to near it’s end, due to time, I am unsure of what exactly will be done.

I believe however, for folks' interest and so we can have everything in one place, that compiling everything found so far can be beneficial, so, I have.

Starting with what we know for sure, Brook is from the West Blue, born 90 years ago to a certain kingdom, the same kingdom he was a military convoy leader from. We know this due to a few factors, however it’s still open to debate if it *is* the same kingdom, however seeing as he was shown as a child to already know what fencing is, practicing moves with his bow, I am just going to say he probably was. In any case, other things worth noting, on the topic of childhood, is that Brook seems to have had money. At least, stability.

Compared to a lot of the other strawhats, Brook is shown dressing very nice. No tatters, no tears, shined shoes and a full violin and bow. He also, as already stated, seemed to be exposed to fencing enough to mirror the moves. If this comes from his kingdom, it means he was exposed to it at a young age. Knowing that he was a military convoy leader, this could be taken that perhaps there were military demonstrations, perhaps the kid saw castle guard or other displays; it’s really up in the air.

We know Brook, again as stated before, became a military convoy leader. Now, the definition of what exactly that means can differ.

Wikipedia states; A convoy is a group of vehicles, typically motor vehicles or ships, traveling together for mutual support and protection. Often, a convoy is organized with armed defensive support and can help maintain cohesion within a unit. It may also be used in a non-military sense, for example when driving through remote areas.

This could mean Brook’s job could’ve been accompanying ships for protection, being a knight for his King, mediating information and goods that come in and out of the kingdom. This would make sense on why his speed was needed, a 9.2 ft man being a great choice for a leader.

His weapon also would make sense for this kind of mission, perhaps secrecy being important or at least the ability to be discreet. His cane sword, a ‘Shikomizue’, is not unique however to just him in the show, one other man using one that has been confirmed so far, that being Fujitora. The pair also share a sea, the west, and both utilize iaijutsu (quick draw techniques.) Fujitora blinded himself with said sword because of something apparently so cruel and inhumane that he rather not see anguish. This may be related to Brook’s departure from his kingdom, which is addressed later in this essay. (Fig 3-5.)

Another thing that’s worth mentioning here is Brook’s attack patterns, being unique even for his kingdom apparently. Once again, during the Ryuma fight, Brook states, and I quote;

“Ryuma: “Now tell me, what part of that wretched excuse for a body would you like me to severe with my special ‘Arrow Notch Slash?’ Brook: You don’t know a thing about that move, so do not use it’s name. I use to serve in my kingdom’s raider squad. The quick draw attack that I was most skilled at was ‘Requiem Lebanderole’. My comrades-in-arms renamed it in regards to my fighting technique.”

(Fig. 1, Brook explains his raider squad and move names. A banderole mind you is a long flag for BATTLE crusades. )

This sets up a few interesting facts. 1. Brook was in a raider squad, a kingdom’s group of marauders, as well as if not the same job as convoy leader. 

2. His techniques were unique to him, or at least specialized to a degree of having a nickname. 3. As expected, he seems to have been close to these men he commanded, adding another layer over Brook loosing the Rumbars.

Being in both a raider squad and being a convoy leader at one point, if not the same point, implies either Brook was simply versatile, acting in both in separate years or periods. Or, the most likely, that he was higher ranking than expected, making him a CO, or commanding officer. (Lieutenant Colonel is another equal rank for scale, making Brook just below a Major.) This makes him quite the important figure, especially for a kingdom that seems to value its military so much, so much so that a child of Brook’s age would already know about their style of fencing, as expressed already. Brook’s devil fruit is worth mentioning here, the revive-revive fruit not likely to be found by a crew like the Rumbars. It is spoken about as if he has always had it amongst the crew, being a fact of life. However, when did he get that fruit and why? I propose where it would be useful; in combat. If your military convoy leader, your best swordsman could be shot and come right back to protect the king, would he not be utterly invaluable? You would never let him leave… But he DID leave. It’s not said why, however we have some extra tidbits of information that may tell us why, and that ALSO may tell us the answer to what kingdom he means.

( Fig. 2. Brook states his leaving of the military for unknown reasoning, the word certain being used in an odd way, establishing his bounty.) This bounty mind you all is in fact, using inflation method, 297,000,000 berries. That is a MASSIVE bounty for just a pirate. Perhaps a certain blond stole a treasure a kingdom could not replace; their convoy leader. Lets rewind for a moment and cover something that may be seen as off topic however I will come right back to the subject at hand; Calico Yorki. Yorki is an odd bird, pirate wise. He makes his crew read his bounties and information, is never shown to play an instrument/sing but makes his crew preform/they all do, and makes Brook make him dinner. (Steak, and Brook continues to be able to make it as confirmed by an SBS.) What is oddest yet, other than his large crew and shirtless habits, is his nature. A man that set to sea to play music for “orphans and crying children” as stated by himself; a crew made for “any men who love music.” Now, I could be reading into this too hard, however from his speech patterns, to this apparent need for a large family, it seems that singing to orphans may be a very personal goal. An orphan turned pirate perhaps, with lofty dreams and a heart of gold, it reads to me that Yorki may have been just that. Knowing this, orphan or not, we now can compare these facts to Brook’s life up until their meeting. A child who probably grew up being taught to fight, being around access to education, expenses and the kingdom’s training. Why would a man like Brook ever join a man like Yorki, and if it’s only music, would that not make Brook a deserter? I do not think that is the case. I will now bring forward some interesting evidence regarding Brook’s kingdom and WHY he would leave. Germa 66. During Zou to Whole Cake, a few mentions of Germa are made with Brook around, garnering interesting reactions indeed.

( Fig. 3. Brook listens but chooses not to add anything utter than silence, his music pausing as well.) This silence could be take as simple ignorance, however Brook later admits he knows of the kingdom, in fact, he knows a lot. A lot more than anyone else did, Reiju admitting interest in his knowledge and once again, Brook brushes it off.

(Fig 4, 5, Brook speaks about Germa 66.) He seems to underplay or simply not elaborate a LOT on his kingdom, as if something happened. Perhaps joining Yorki was not out of simple cowardice or need to be free, (which again if he did would both reflect poorly upon his entire character and not be in character for him what so ever,) but in fact, out of necessity. It could have been Germa 66, it could have been some other grouping, however I believe this will come to be something important. The kingdom possibilities are interesting as well, and I will list the following LIKELY possibilities. (Other options are known to not be military, like Ohara, or literally places like Thriller Bark itself.) - Toroa - God Valley - Illsia Kingdom - Soja Kingdom The most likely candidates, because again, it is labeled as certain kingdom (Fig 2.) is Toroa or Soja, however I will personally lean into Toroa. This is because of a man by the named of Byron.

(Fig 6. Byron and his information.) His nose and face shape vaguely resemble Brook, however honestly that is a stretch. What is NOT however is his familiar attire, family line and the placement of his kingdom. This could easily be Brook’s home, however again, this is just speculation. Brook very well could belong to God’s Valley, or the same kingdom as Issoh, fleeing because of something he did not agree with or literally could not stand any longer. But, that falls under possibility, not fact. This concludes the facts section, now comes the final question; What does it mean for the story? And, honestly, that can be debated. What Oda has done is plant odd seeds of information about the man, similar to Sanji and his ties to Vinsmoke, that have not been addressed nor talked about in full, or so I’ve found sufficiently. These seeds MAY bloom into what I hope will be a tie into some huge reveal, perhaps aid from a past member of his convoy or kingdom, or perhaps this will only spark conflict. Perhaps it will be minute, Brook being able to aid due to his knowledge, the man already in Thriller Bark showing his prowess by being able to command the strawhats into defeating zombies via salt and tactic. In any case, we can only hope these things mean anything, tied into some huge story that could explain why a man like him would quit for a redneck like Yorki, other than perhaps love, and what kingdom would let a man like him go willingly.

Updates:

- Confirmation that he’s educated! Perhaps in military or just as a whole, but confirmation nonetheless!

- I realize the reason he’s so confident with Big Mom isn’t just guts; he’s fought for royalty before. He’s just back in the fucking building again /j

- Sabaody behaviors, a convoy leader

CHECK REBLOG FOR PART TWO!!

[theconstitutionisgayculture]

"Putting your hand over your heart isn't a part of a Nazi salute!"

Not the original salute no, but it is part of the salute being used by Neo Nazis. So here's a link to a video comparing them, showing his gesture was identical to a Neo Nazi salute.

https://www.reddit.com/r/france/s/2bdn5cuvf6

"Even the ADL said it wasn't a Nazi salute!"

The ADL can be wrong just like any other group of people can. You people hate their stance on hate speech, so why are you magically in agreement with them just because they support your worldview?

"It was so bad that it couldn't have been a real salute, Hitler would have killed him for mocking him!"

Bad salutes are still salutes, just as bad insurrections are still insurrections.

"He was symbolically throwing his heart to the crowd!"

Here he is doing it a second time while facing away from the crowd.

"He said his heart went out to the crowd!"

Yeah so he could have some deniability for idiots like you to cling to and defend him with.

"Kalama did the same gesture!"

She waved and pointed. You're just blind. There's something wrong with you if you can't distinguish a wave from an actual Nazi salute. Here's them being conpared side by side.

https://x.com/tify330/status/1881512417387040998

The sad part Is, if you saw this back in 2012, your immediate thought would have been "Oh my god Elon Musk did a nazi salute!", but Trump has so successfully brainwashed you, conditioned you, and groomed you, that his richest and most vocal supporter can preform a blatant Nazi salute, and you'll deny the obvious evidence before you to defend him, ignoring everything before your eyes and ears, because you've been made incapable of acknowledging the evilness, or the nature, of your cult.

It should have been obvious when he showed up to the Madison Square Garden rally in a custom black MAGA hat that used a typeface that was associated with the Hitler and the Nazis, the font the Nazis regularly used as a sign of nationalism that Hitler chose as the as the font for the cover of his autobiography.

https://www.ndtv.com/world-news/elon-musks-maga-cap-text-has-eerie-resemblance-with-hitlers-nazi-font-6903216/amp/1](https://www.ndtv.com/world-news/elon-musks-maga-cap-text-has-eerie-resemblance-with-hitlers-nazi-font-6903216/amp/1

You guys are REALLY bad at taking hints due to your programing.

"Trump, who is nothing like a nazi and never talks about nazis or white supremacists except to disavow them, brainwashed you into thinking Elon Musk isn't a nazi" sure is an interesting take.

Anyway you're putting a lot of words into my mouth and the ones you're quoting that are actually mine explain pretty well why what Elon did isn't a nazi salute, so I'm not going point by point and addressing your nonsense (especially the "nazi font" shit. Jesus do you even hear yourself?)

What I am going to address?

"Here he is doing it a second time while facing away from the crowd"

There were people behind the stage behind him. I don't know if you can see them during Elon's full speech but here's the same setup from when Trump was at the arena

You can clearly see the white star bunting that's behind Elon in the clips of him doing the "salute". The stage is in the center of the arena with people all around.

I'll also explain why I trust the ADL here, again, because apparently you either didn't see it or, more likely, your leftist brain selectively edits everything that doesn't conform to your warped world view.

The ADL is a partisan left wing group that constantly calls conservatives, but especially Trump and his allies, nazis, racists, white supremacists, anti-Semites, and every other ist and phobe under the sun. They rarely let a chance to lie about the right go by. The fact that a group like that is saying "that wasn't a nazi salute" means a lot, because they're going against the talking points of their own ideology in favor of a person they hate. When a group, even a partisan hack group like the ADL, goes against their interests and the interests of their allies in favor of a person or a group they normally can't stand, that gives their words a lot of extra weight.

She waved and pointed. You're just blind. There's something wrong with you if you can't distinguish a wave from an actual Nazi salute.

Yes. That's the point. She waved and pointed. Elon symbolically "threw his heart" to the crowd. Neither were nazi salutes. Both could made to look like one out of context. The media only cared about doing it with Elon.

I don't expect any of this to get through to you, because you still think J6 was an iNsUrReCtIoN. But maybe one day, after you grow out of this weird leftist phase, you'll look back and remember this and feel as silly as you should.

[toastedclownery]

Shrike as Huitzilopochtli... 2!

Ah shit. Here we go again. This time with some more facts (and some corrections lol) 

Huitzilopochtli, “Hummingbird of the South”, is the patron god of the Mexica (historically called the Aztecs). He was the patron of the capital city of the Aztec empire, Tenochtitlan (now Mexico City). He was the god of warfare and the sun, as the sun of the fifth and current era. 

We'll start with the iconography, and then possible themes

—

Huitzi is nearly always represented with quetzal feathers (quetzalli) on his headdress, a lot of gods in the pantheon have them (In my last post I called them hummingbird feathers but those are the ones on his back. Whoops!). These appear in Shrike’s design as the spikes of his tentacles.

Huitzilopochtli is most known for having a black mask around his eyes. Shrike has dark circles around his eyes. His namesake, shrike, is a bird also known for having a mask of black feathers around its eyes. Additionally, when he’s dressed up as Bandito in ep2, he puts on a dark antiface. And as a potential extra layer, this is to imitate the black masks that raccoons also have.

Huitzi is called the "hummingbird of the south", and so he wears the head of a hummingbird on top of his own. The Aztecs also believed that warriors who died in battle got reincarnated into hummingbirds, so that’s another connection to warfare. Shrike has a beak-like mouth that has visibly been getting longer throughout the episodes.

The god has a pectoral circle made of seashell on his chest (anahuatl). I’m not entirely sure if the collar of his jacket is supposed to be a reference to this. In his reference sheet it’s a circle, various animators draw it as a circle, but Zeurel never draws it as a circle when animating, so it might be a stretch.

Huitzi commonly carries Xiuhcoatl, the “Turquoise Serpent”, as a weapon, mentioned in the story of his birth in the Florentine Codex. When dressed up as Bandito, Shrike grabs one of the floppy leaves of the plant, resembling the shape of the snake.

But Xiuhcoatl can also be found on the pattern on the sides of his shoes!

Also mentioned in his origin story in Florentine, he has a xiuh atlatl, a “turquoise dart thrower” (although it can also be associated with Xiuhcoatl as the same thing).

That would be his gun. It’s not the only time that guns are gonna be compared to dart throwers.

—

Huitzilopochtli was the sun of the fifth era to the Mexica. This sun has the symbol “Nahui Ollin”, which means “4 Movement”. The Ollin is one of the Aztec calendar day signs, it means “movement” or “earthquake”, and it is represented as two intertwined lines. Here it is represented in Codex Borgia.

Now here’s what I’m thinking

This might just be where Shrike’s pinky quirk comes from! Shrike was the one to tell Beebs about pinky promises, and they seem to be very important to him. So much so that he subconsciously keeps his pinkies up whenever he’s holding his guns or his phone.

The reason why each era has a name and symbol attributed to it is because they’re named after the way it would end. This fifth era is named after earthquakes because the Aztecs believed that this world would end with strong tremors, the sun would lose its perpetual fight against darkness, and the stars would come down to earth in the form of creatures called Tzitzimime to kill all of humanity.

This god represents the sun. The sun in the solar system. Earth’s sun, our sun, the Terrans’ sun. Yeah, that sun.

The sun’s job was to illuminate the world for us humans, and to not let it fall into darkness. This could be why Shrike has a fear of the dark, and has such appreciation for Terrans!

Shrike, as the protagonist of the show, is Huitzilopochtli, the god most important to the Mexica. Zeurel currently doesn't have a specific nationality for him, he's generally hispanic, but the crew's Spanish consultant is Mexican, and so is Sr. Pelo, the voice of Bandito. In Bandito's show there are curtains with the colors of the Mexican flag and a prickly pear cactus, which appears in the coat of arms in the middle of said flag.

This symbol actually comes from the legend on the origins of Tenochtitlan! Huitzilopochtli told the Mexica to leave Aztlan, the place where they were originally from (that's where the term "Aztec" comes from). He told them to build a new city where they found an eagle perched on a prickly pear cactus, devouring a snake. That was in the middle of lake Texcoco, where Mexico City still stands on today.

I'd say Shrike is the one who has the strongest connection to his past life memories because he feels a strong connection to Mexican culture and language (if he spoke ancient Nahuatl it'd be too obvious so they made him speak Mexican Spanish instead). He also has the habit of calling everyone “amigo”, even to the people he dislikes or doesn’t seem to know at all.

Maybe it’s because he did know them. A long time ago?

[whatiswrongwithpeople]

I keep going over the world we knew (p.3)

a player 230/ Thanos/ Su-Bong x fem!reader fic

summary: “It had always been him and her against the world. But if you've been fighting against the world for years, how do you react when you suddenly realize that your best friend has become your world?”

warnings: none really except the usual Thanos/Squid Game stuff. Maybe slightly ooc Thanos? , Written in my notes app, 2 instances of using petnames

note: I think this lowkey qualifies more as a filler chapter before we get to the mingle game BUT nevertheless I still hope you enjoy it!! Also thank you all for the love <33 I really REALLY appreciate it.

🏷️: @l5byrinth , @wpdarlingpan , @lollipopsandstuff , @scotty-doesnt-know-ig

Part 1 , Part 2

Luckily, mealtime had transitioned to bedtime without any major interruptions. [Y/N] sat on her mattress, legs crossed underneath her as she wondered about what game they’d be forced to play tomorrow.

Despite the amount of people gathered in the large room, it had been strangely quiet for the last few hours, but unfortunately the peace seemingly wasn’t supposed to last throughout the night. A loud shout sliced through the stillness, followed by the unmistakable sound of a scuffle—a fight breaking out between players. [Y/N] quickly leaned forward , head poking out from her bed, as she could hear the noise building up, the clash of bodies and frantic shouts echoing across the vast space.

A tired sigh left her lips as her eyes narrowed in an attempt to see despite the poor lightning. Another fight. The chaos of the game, the little amount of food and the overall desperation of the players—it had only been matter of time before things turned violent again.

Staring where the sound came from , right across from her, it wasn’t the fight that had her feeling on edge. Her gaze scanned the area quickly, eyes darting across the sea of beds and the flailing bodies near the door. But there was no sign of him. No flash of that annoyingly purple hair, no cocky smirk. Just the frenzy of the others.

Chewing on her lips as her eyes wandered around the room for a second time, [Y/N] could feel her heartbeat speeding up nervously. She didn’t know why it bothered her so much. It wasn’t like she cared. But something about him—something about the way he always seemed to approach things acting like he was invincible—had her restless. Thanos didn’t always play by the rules. And when things got messy, he was usually the one starting it or making it worse.

But once again, it wasn’t like she cared about that at all.

Failing to ignore her worries, [Y/N] pushed herself up from her cot, skipping a few of the lower steps, her footsteps swift and sharp as she navigated the darkness of the room. The shouting grew louder as she moved further towards the front of the hall, but her focus was only on one task: finding him. Finding that annoying mop of purple hair. Gods, why was she doing this to herself ? And why couldn’t she spot that stupid purple hair anywhere??

She passed by a few groups of various players huddled together, murmuring about the fight, their eyes flicking nervously toward the noise. Glancing at them, it was clear that none of them had the answers she was looking for. Her heart pulled her further towards the front of the room, nervously beating with the urge to see him. She just needed to know he was okay. Not that she‘d ever admit that to him or even herself.

Craning her head to look around to the best of her abilities, [Y/N] walked towards the door leading to the bathrooms and nearly collided with one of the other players, who was making his way in the opposite direction. She shot him a glare, but he just muttered something about staying out of the fight and kept walking.

[Y/N] didn’t stop to pay him any more attention. Her pulse pumping through her veins with a quickened pace.

Where was he?

Then, as if the world had finally decided to give her a break, she spotted him. At the far side of the room, leaning against the wall, Thanos was exactly where he always seemed to be—out of the fray, watching it all unfold like it was some kind of evening entertainment. His purple hair stood out in the dim light, and his eyes lazily tracked the commotion with that infuriatingly nonchalant look on his face.

[Y/N]’s breath whooshed out of her in relief, even though she refused to acknowledge it. She took a steadying breath, reminding herself that the fight wasn’t her problem. And despite her actions, she wasn’t about to make neither Thanks nor any other part of this situation her problem.

The girl waited for a brief moment, observing her former best friend as he casually watched the others, probably waiting for the right moment to step in or out—depending on what suited him best.

Unsurprisingly, he didn’t even look bothered.

With a small, annoyed exhale, the girl made her way over to him. Her instincts controlling her actions before her mind could step in. “Not involved in the mess for once, huh?” she muttered, her voice nonchalant , though there was a slight edge to it, one that could be mistaken for concern. But it wasn’t that. It was just... practicality.

Thanos tilted his head, glancing at her only when she got close enough. His smirk was already in place, like it never left. “Aww. Look who’s worried about me.”

Her eyes narrowed, the defensiveness creeping back in like a protective armour. “Don’t get ahead of yourself. I’m just making sure you’re not starting a fight for no reason.”

His grin stretched wider. “Me? Start a fight? I’m the one trying to avoid getting caught up in all this mess. Not my fault if some idiots want to throw some punches.”

[Y/N] snorted, not buying it for a second. “You don’t have to start it to be part of it. All it takes is you being in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

Thanos leaned a little closer, clearly enjoying the fact that he had her attention, even if she wouldn’t admit why she’d come looking for him in the first place. “I’m always in the right place at the right time, Princess. You know that.”

Pinching her nose in annoyance , [Y/N] rolled her eyes, but there was a flicker of something else in her gaze. Something deeper, something Thanos couldn’t quite place, something she surely wouldn’t let slip. "Yeah, well, maybe one day you won't be," she said, voice low, but not soft. “And if you’re so good at keeping out of trouble, maybe you should keep to the shadows and stop letting yourself be seen like this. You’re just asking for someone to make a move on you.”

“Who would be stupid enough to try that?” His voice was playful, but there was something sharp behind his words.

“Plenty of people,” she said, her tone colder now. “This place doesn’t care about who you are or how fast you can get out of trouble. You’re not invincible. Plus, you’re rather punchable.“

For a moment, the playful edge in Thanos’ eyes faded, just for a split second. But it didn’t last. Instead, he stood a little straighter, his smirk returning, though it was more of a challenging expression now.

“You don’t need to worry about me, Angel. I sure as hell know how to survive all of this.” His eyes held hers, as he gestured around and for a moment, there was something unspoken between them—something distantly familiar that neither of them was ready to confront.

[Y/N] didn’t back down, studying his face before sighing. “Surviving doesn’t mean living, Su-Bong,” she said, turning away before he could respond. "You should remember that."

And with that she made her way back toward her cot, the quiet after their brief exchange settling in around her. But even though she walked away with a cold shoulder, her mind was a blur of questions she refused to answer. She wasn’t worried. Not about him. Not about anything.

Except she couldn’t stop glancing over her shoulder, just once, to make sure he was still standing there, watching her.

[anakinstwinklebunny]

HEAR ME OUT---

sam and reader run away one night, drive to another state, and get married... or something like that IDK

Author's note: I CANT BELIEVE I HAVE YOU IN MY INBOX 🤭🤭

SAM MONROE and you, wild and impulsive as ever, had that look in your eyes—one that screamed trouble and freedom all at once. Maybe it was your teenage years, maybe it was the light lack of your matureness. Yet, nonetheless, it started as a joke, as a random comment about leaving everything behind and doing something really crazy. But now, late at night, with the streets dead silent, you sit with Sam in his car, making sure your plans were right

“We could just... do it,” his voice low but charged. His hand drums nervously on the steering wheel “Like, right now. Nothing stopping us.”

You blink at him, heart racing. “You serious?”

He scoffs, but it’s almost too soft, too tender. “When am I not serious? Look" he sighed, turning his body so he'd look at you "I know I’m not... you know, perfect or whatever. But I love you. And if we’re gonna do it, why not now? No fancy crap, no one telling us what to do. Just us.”

Your chest tightened, lips curling into a shameless smile, and in that moment, you knew what to do “Okay. Let’s do it.”

His grin is boyish, mischievous, and so damn like Sam. He leaned over, planting a quick, messy kiss on your lips before throwing the car into gear. “Hold on, baby. We’re gonna find the shittiest chapel this side of nowhere.”

---

Hours later, the two of you stood under flickering fluorescent lights in some run-down chapel that smelled faintly of mildew. Sam’s hands were clammy as they hold yours, and his lips cracked into the softness smile when he repeated the vows. But his eyes—God, his eyes never leave yours.

The officiant hadn't even blinked at how young you both look, probably cause he already had seen worse, although he did judged sam's eye makeup with his eyes. Sam squeezed your hands when it’s his turn to say, «I do»

When it’s finally over, and you’re officially in the view of law his, he doesn’t wait for permission. He kissed you like the world’s ending, like it's all what matters right now. “We’re married,” he breathes against your lips, a little stunned, a little in awe.

“We’re married,” you echo, laughing as he picked you up, spinning you around in the middle of the dingy chapel.

It was far from being perfect. Heck, it was not even traditional. But that was the thing, you and Sam, messy, reckless, and somehow full of teenage love.

TAG LIST: @kingdomhate @divineani @haydensprettyprincess @skyguys-princess @catnipaddictt @heartscone @haydensbbg @inneedsoffanfics @jediavengers @literally-izzy @anisluvrgirl @slutforfinnickodair @xhunnybeeex @fuckmyskywalker @gallerygourmet @ysrjune @anakinskwkler @bimbo-baggins17-deactivated2025 @cookybananas @emotionallybruisedx @diorvalentina @sevinax @throughparisallthroughrome @aniiuv @ritosparty @ninastyless @lily-strnlo @thesassypadawan @awhhayden @sydkneez @anisangeldust @l1ttle-misssunsh1ne @anakinca @rubiesarepretty

[sparklypinkflightsuit]

Love To Watch You Leave: Part 7 - Final

Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Reader

Warnings: Slow Burn, Enemies to Lovers, Swearing, Fluff, Angst, Bullying, Smut, Grieving, Pining, Alcohol, Military Inaccuracies, Knife Injury’s and Attempted Murder

- Part 6 Here -

——————————

18+ Only

——————————




Bradley was only on the floor for a second, before his adrenaline went into overdrive and he stumbled back onto his feet.




When he’d kicked the door open, you were pinned up against the opposite wall, the knife being plunged over and over into your stomach. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you barely clung to consciousness, blood covering Bradley’s bed and walls.




White hot rage boiled through Bradley’s veins and he charged at Angie, knocking her hard into the back wall. The knife clattered to the floor and skidded a few feet out of reach.




Bradley and Angie both dove for the knife, fists and feet flying left and right and all sense of humanity and civility in the world now long behind them.




Bradley didn’t care that this was once someone he sort of cared about, or someone he recently felt sorry for, now she was just someone who was threatening everything he cared about in the world.




He pinned her to the ground with his knee on her back as he scrambled for the knife, but Angie threw all of her weight, which was surprising considering her size, and Bradley flew to the side, landing on his injured shoulder blade.




She grabbed the knife first and climbed on top of Bradley, straddling him with the knife pressed against his neck.




Bradley held his hands up, teeth gritting and nostrils flaring, “You might as well just do it, Angie. I’m never gonna forgive you for this.”




Angie shook her head softly, “We could still try, we could make this beautiful.” She grinned down at him, the knife nicking his already scarred skin.




Bradley carefully turned his head to look at you laying on the floor by the wall, blood covering your hands and stomach.




Tears brimmed to his eyes and he was once again overcome by rage and hatred.




“There will never be a world where me and you are together.”




Angie’s face turned from a grin to a scowl and she screamed, lifting the knife into the air, ready to plunge it into Bradley’s throat. If she couldn’t have him, no one else could.




As the knife lifted from his throat and rose up, Bradley took the split second opportunity to grab her wrist. He used what strength he had in his other arm to push her off of him and onto the floor. He quickly got up and knelt against her, pining her to the floor, the knife now pressed against her neck.




She suddenly changed her tactic and pulled out the puppy dog eyes, eyebrows pulling together, “No, I’m sorry! Im sorry! Don’t kill me, please.”

She cried, squirming for her life underneath him.




“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t.” Bradley growled.




“I’m pregnant.” She blurted out.




Bradley eased up ever so slightly on the knife. “You’re lying.”




“No, I really am, I promise. It’s yours Bradley, please, please don’t do this.” She cried.




“Fuck!” He threw the knife across the room and slid off of her, propping himself up against the cold wooden floor, shock now overwhelming him.




Angie lay on the floor trying to catch her breath, “We… we could be a happy family, Brad, don’t you see that?”




“Don’t fucking move or I swear to God I will kill you with my bare hands.” He spat, crawling across the room to you.




You were shaking and awash of any colour now, blood flowing over your fingers as Bradley lifted you into his arms.


“I’m so sorry baby, I’m gonna get help, please just hold on.” He shakily kissed your forehead and lay you down carefully.




Bradley stood on wobbly feet and limped over to the knife.




Pointing it at Angie, he told her to stand and walk in front of him to the living room where he left his phone.




She did as she was told, now having nothing to defend herself with, and Bradley sat her down in front of him as he called 911.




“If she dies, Angie, you’ve ruined my life and I will not let you get away with it.”




Bradley held the knife out and Angie stared back, almost a glint in her eye, neither moved until the flashing blue lights appeared outside.




——————————




- 1 year later -




“I’m thinking either French Blue or Sage Green for the living room, what do you think?” You held up two cans of paint to the light in the hardware store.




Bob chuckled, “Either, both good choices, whatever you prefer, it’s your project anyway.”




You hummed as you considered your options, “Okay, French Blue. Maybe green for the kitchen.”




“Yes ma’am, want me to take those for you?”




“No I got it, thanks.” You grinned.




“Honey, what about these for the garden?” A voice from the next isle over called. Bradley walked around the corner of the isle holding a box of string lights, “I know you love them usually, what do you think?” He asked, stopping in front of you and Bob.




“That’s a great idea, babe. But you’ll need to ask Bob if he can help with that as well, I don’t think I’ll reach.”




Bob shrugged, “I did offer to help with renovations, so use me as you wish.”




You didn’t remember much from the day Angie attacked you, only horrible flashes that often came back to haunt you at night. The last thing you remembered was running into Bradley’s room with the full intent of jumping out of his bedroom window, only Angie was faster than she looked.




She cornered you in Bradley’s room, a dead end and you hadn’t realised that Carole had installed new locks on the windows since the last time you saw teenage Bradley sneaking out of his window at night.




You backed up against the far wall, your hands held out defensively.




“Angie, please don’t do this. It’s not worth it.” You begged.




“The moment I saw you with him I began to plan this, the only reason I didn’t get it over and done with last night is because you said it wasn’t real. If only you had kept your word, Y/N, then none of this would be happening. God, does girl code mean nothing these days?”




The next thing you remember was the hot pain of the knife in your stomach, and again and again, you felt like you’d been punched over and over, the last few feeling like nothing as adrenaline and shock began to set in, the corners of your vision darkening. Just before everything went dark you thought you saw Bradley’s beautiful face but you couldn’t be sure if you were hallucinating.




You woke up 3 weeks and several operations later in hospital, your mom on one side and Bradley on the other.




You were so relieved to see that Bradley was okay, but when he ran you through the details and told you there was a chance he was going to be a father, you were heartbroken.




For days you refused to speak to anyone as you lay in your hospital bed. You had no idea how you’d gotten yourself tied up in this, you’d always swore you’d never go out of your way for a man if it would kill you, and this time it nearly had. You certainly never thought it would be Bradley you’d fall for either.




But Bradley remained by your side, giving you the time you needed but also the support you didn’t know you required.




The surgeries had taken a toll on you and you’d lost a lot of blood, but luckily the knife somehow missed all of your major organs. The day you were finally discharged, you insisted on walking to the truck instead of being wheeled, you were eager to stretch your legs after weeks in bed.




You hadn’t taken into account how weak your legs would be, and not far down the corridor your legs gave out beneath you.




Bradley was quick to catch you, his big strong arms wrapping around you and pulling you into him as you began to sob in frustration. He sat down on the floor with you in his lap, your head nestled in his neck with his chin resting on your head.




“I’m so sorry, for everything… but I’m not going anywhere, Y/N. I’m gonna be here for you, I’m gonna help you, no matter what you need I’m there.” He kissed your head, his hand stroking your hair.




“Why? What could you possibly gain from that?” You sniffled, tilting your head to look up at him with watery eyes.




Bradley chuckled softly as he pressed a long, loving kiss against your lips. He pulled away and stroked your hair from your eyes, “Because I love you.” He stated so confidently. “And when I thought I was gonna lose you, those were the darkest weeks of my life. I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart.”




You laughed a wet laugh and kissed him again, “Ditto, Bradshaw.”




A year later, and things were going much better. You’d moved in with Bradley and things were magical. Long gone was the boy that made your life hell, and instead here was the man that made your eyes roll to the back of your head almost daily, who made your heart flutter and was a real life Prince Charming.




You hadn’t realised how grown up he was until you moved in with him, and he would cook you these amazing dinners. He looked good doing it too, and you really loved watching him.




This would mostly end with you tearing his clothes off before dinner was even eaten, and he’d make love to you on the kitchen table.




You loved it when he did gardening, always in his jorts and shirtless, skin glistening in the afternoon sun and he worked away, muscles rippling and sweaty. You would lay reading on your lounger, ice tea in hand, but you would be too distracted to even notice the condensation dripping against the pages of your new book. This would almost always end with you taking his hand and dragging him into the house.




Bradley loved it, you swore he did it on purpose.




The first time you’d had sex had actually been a couple of weeks after you were discharged, Bradley had convinced your mom to let you stay with him, because your mom had to work and Bradley was still off on rest from deployment, so one day you lay on the couch as you watched him put up new shelves for your books.




He wore a tight white t-shirt which threatened to tear as his muscles flexed and bulged.




You suddenly found yourself biting your lip and clenching your thighs as you watched. You almost moaned as he turned to look at you over his shoulder, a screw between his teeth, and he winked at you.




“Brad.” You said softly.




“Hmmm?” He asked, the screwdriver twisting in his hand, the veins on his arms standing out.




“I need you. Like… right now.” You purred.




He immediately dropped the screw driver on the shelf and turned around. “Like… need me, need me?”




You nodded, biting your lip.




“Are you sure you’re ready?” He asked cautiously as he edged towards you.




“Oh you have no idea…”




The way Bradley made love to you the first time was like nothing else. He gently kissed you all the way down your body, spending extra time on your new scars. He was so careful with you but so sensual, it felt like your body was on fire and your nerves alight.




He really was big, but the stretch was just what you’d hoped for as he slowly ground into you, you had to plant your lips firmly to his neck to stop the noises he was pulling from you.




Those big hands of his made sure no part of you was left unattended for long, and his lips, those soft, full lips, they were secretly your favourite, you couldn’t get enough of them on yours and on your skin.




You were definitely fully head over heels for Bradley at this point, so just shy of 8 months later, when Angie had her baby in prison, you had decided you would support Bradley no matter what the results of the paternity test were.




You paced the living room as you waited impatiently for Bradley to get home. When he walked through the door, you stood and looked at him in silent anticipation.




“I’m… I’m not a dad.” He sighed in relief, and you exclaimed, jumping into his arms.




This meant you would never have to visit Angie in prison for the sake of their child, although you did feel badly for the new born baby boy, and what this meant for him.




“They did find the real father, he’ll be okay.” Bradley said, reading your mind.




You sighed in relief as you nodded.




You and Bradley were living together fully now, you’d moved all your things over from next door, and Bradley had said to decorate the house how you wanted, as it hadn’t been updated since he was a child.




Bob had offered some assistance, you, him and Bradley now close friends, and you’d dragged them to the hardware store that day to pick out paint colours.




You loaded the Bronco with your decoration haul and Bradley drove the three of you back, dropping Bob home to change into some overalls, he’d promised to be back later to start painting.




You excitedly hopped up the front porch, keen to drop the paints off and pop in to see how your mom was doing.




“You sure you don’t mind the colours I’ve picked?” You asked as you fiddled with the front door keys, Bradley’s arms wrapping around you from behind.




“No, you did a great job. You could paint the whole house yellow and I’d just be happy if you were happy.” He hummed, kissing the shell of your ear.




“You soppy thing, you.” You chuckled, opening the door.




A pile of post lay on the floor and you bent down to pick it up, looking through the envelopes.




“This one’s for you.” You handed him a big yellow envelope.




His face fell slightly as he took it, and his jaw visibly clenched while he opened it and read the document enclosed.




“You okay? What is it?” You stood in front of him, nervously waiting.




He looked up from the document and sighed, “They’re my deployment papers.”




“When do you leave?” Your happy mood suddenly deflating massively. You knew it was coming, he was given a good deal of leave, so it had to be any day now.




“2 weeks Thursday.”




You nodded, forcing a smile, “It’ll be okay, once you get back the house will be done and I’ll be right here waiting, promise.”




You’d keep your promise, just like you would countless other times in the future when he’d leave. You’d always be waiting excitedly when we returned, relieved he was safe.




The day came and you stood anxiously on the docks, your dress flowing in the breeze as Bradley unloaded his duffle bag from the truck.




He placed it on the floor and rounded the side of the truck to you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and kissing the top of your head softly.




“Gonna miss you, kid.” He mumbled into your hair.




You pulled back slightly to look at him, your hand stroking his cheek in adoration, “I’ll be right here, just come back safely.”




Bradley nodded and pressed his lips to yours for a long moment, savouring the feeling while he could. He pulled back and rested his forehead to yours as he sighed, “I love you, you know that right?”




“Of course I do. I love you right back.” You grinned.




Bradley picked up his bag and blew you a kiss as he began to walk away. You leaned against the truck as you watched him.




“Hey Bradshaw!” You called out, and Bradley turned, a huge grin on his face as he looked at you with a full heart.




You chuckled, enjoying the cheeky look on his face once more, “I really hate to see you go… but I love to watch you leave.”




——————————

The End.

Taglist:

@dizzybee03 @cheyrenee @flowery-mess @wildxwidow @residentb1tch @championemmie @mycrofthomlesumbrella @sydneejean @milegonzalez96 @minnie-rae

[witchygagirlwrites]

Greg "Mouse" Gerwitz x Reader x Jay Halstead/Gerstead x Reader (Consider Me Gone Verse)

"Let's make a snowman" - Yeah the boys were certain they were gonna marry you the moment you laughed those words out

It wasn’t unusual for you to wake up and find your movements inhibited by having multiple limbs tucked tightly around you. From that very first time years ago on the other side of the world that you fell asleep between Jay and Mouse they acted as if you’d drift away from them in the middle of the night and that instinct seemed to only worsen through the years, especially after how hard of a time you’d endured the year before. Your face was tucked into the bend of Mouse’s neck, his legs tangled in your while Jay’s arm was tucked tightly around your waist holding you back against his chest. You attempted to move slightly but that only resulted in Jay’s arm tightening and Mouse’s arm moving up to grip your hip directly under Jay’s. 

“Where you going sweetheart?” Mouse asked, voice heavy with sleep. You laughed lightly “I wanted to start coffee love but I kind of have a whole lot of man here holding me to the bed” Jay chuckled from behind you, his lips trailing across your shoulder “You weren’t complaining last night when you were being held to the bed princess” you felt your face warm slightly “I’d say bite me but I know exactly what that would get me so instead I’m gonna say Jay, I love you baby will you let me up so I can start coffee?” 

He tilted your head back and smiled “Feel free to climb over me” you raised an eyebrow as Mouse untangled himself from you, an amused grin slipping onto his face. At times he hated having to separate you and Jay when your tempers butted but then there were times he liked just letting you two tease the shit out of each other. You laughed and slid towards Mouse, straddling him and pressing a quick kiss to his lips before climbing out of the bed. 

You glanced back at Jay to see an honest to god pout grace his face “Now that wasn’t fair and you know it” you winked at him “You’ll live” and stopped long enough to pick up his shirt from the night before to slip on before continuing out of the room.

You were just through setting the coffee pot up when they came walking into the kitchen, both only wearing boxers. You turned towards them and smiled, letting your eyes wander over them both “Damn fireball, you checking us out or something?” Jay asked and you grinned “Well Halstead, I mean two men that look like you and him walking around my house? I’m gonna look”

Mouse grinned “Feel free to touch too sweetheart” you pulled him towards you and he gladly let you, tugging you into his arms to brush a kiss against your lips. “Give her here” Jay said after a moment, snatching you into his arms and causing you and Mouse both to laugh from his attitude. You grinned when you slammed into his chest “Well hello to you too sir” then pulled him down to you to catch his lips in a kiss.

He smiled against your mouth “Aren’t you off today baby?” you nodded “Please tell me you two haven’t been called in?” he pulled away from you and shook his head as Mouse said “Nope, we’re all yours. What do you want to do with us?” you ducked your head “It’s dumb” and they both stepped closer to trap you between their bodies “Don’t you dare” Jay spoke first and Mouse added “Tell us” 

You looked from one of them to the other and grinned slightly “Wanna go to the park? I just don’t want to be cooped up all day” Jay grinned “Sounds good to me” Mouse nodded “Park it is”

After breakfast and coffee you all headed to get dressed. Mouse tossed you his thermals to wear under whatever clothes you picked so Jay pulled his black henley out and passed it to you too. “Wear it over your shirt to help keep you warm” you looked at the stack of clothes and raised an eyebrow “and what about you two?” 

They shrugged “We’ll be ok” Jay answered so you just nodded, knowing arguing with them was useless at that point. They knew you liked the snow but always took extra caution to protect you from getting too cold. You got dressed in Mouse’s thermals then your jeans and one of your henleys with Jay’s henley on top along with a thick coat and that seemed to please them.

___________________

You followed them out to Jay’s truck laughing about the fact that out of the three of you being a detective, a trauma nurse and a tech expert for one of the top units CPD had that you were spending your day off in the park. “We’re just training so if we ever have kids” you teased and saw a blush grace both of their faces as you slid into the center seat in the truck.

_________________

When you got to the park you slipped your hand into Mouse’s lacing your fingers as Jay slung his arm over your shoulder to tuck you into his side. The fresh layer of snow covering the ground was gorgeous. Kids were playing with their parents, teenagers were laying in a snowball fight and there were even a few dogs playing in it.

“Let's make a snowman” you suggested and Jay grinned “Well I mean we’ve made sandmans before so why not?” Mouse shrugged “I’m up for anything you want sweetheart, you know that” you tugged both of them behind you “Well then come on!”

_________________

Somehow “Let's make a snowman” turned into lets make one giant snowman and an army of tiny little snowmen to be his minions. It wasn’t long before you three had managed to recruit teenagers that knew either you from the hospital or had met the two of them through the unit, or all three of you through community programs to help in your task.

“How the hell do you always manage this?” Mouse laughed, looking around at the snowmen that were in the center of the park now. You shrugged “I have no idea” Jay shook his head “She’s just the type of person when you see her doing something you’re bound to want to jump in and help her. Look at these kids? They could’ve cared less about us, yet that one kid hollered that’s that nurse from med that used to be in the rangers and they all came running” 

You grinned at him “You two damn sure come running” he shook his head “Always have, always will” One of the teenagers called your name and you looked up. She grinned “This was fun, even if your fellas are cops” you shrugged “Only one’s a cop. The other just works for the cops” she rolled her eyes “Yeah, I guess they ain't too bad if they love you”

After taking pictures of your snowman battalion it was getting later in the day and you needed to warm up so the three of you decided to just grab take out on the way home. You had your head leaned against Mouse’s shoulder and your hand on Jay’s leg on the drive home. “Thank you” you spoke and Jay cut his eyes at you “For what baby?” you shrugged “You didn’t have to waste your day off in a cold park doing something as stupid as making snowmen with me and a bunch of teenagers” Mouse shook his head “No day is wasted with you”  “And nothing that makes you happy is stupid” Jay added

You laughed lightly “Well the day isn’t quite over, when we get home I really just want to warm up” Jay glanced at Mouse before a grin slipped onto his face “I think we can help you with that” Mouse nodded “Oh we can definitely help her with that” 

You laughed lightly “I love you both, so damn much” “We love you too princess” Jay replied. “Always” Mouse added, turning to press a kiss to the side of your head.

[feastingonchrist]

Interesting how people say Christians are terrible people but in the same breath say that Christ was a good person and teacher (maybe not you op, but i have seen many non-believers say this). Like, yeah, we follow His example of how to live, what love is and what He defined it to be. Jesus is God. He lived a perfect and sinless life. He died for our sins to have justification before God and to have eternal life and to be with Him for all of eternity.

Now of course, there are people who call themselves Christians who don’t act Christ-like or bear any good fruit. These people may either not be saved, not take their faith as seriously or don’t understand the gospel. We are to live and love like He did. We are also supposed to die to ourselves daily and sacrifice our deepest desires that may go against what God has for us. No matter the cost. Believe me, it is extremely hard and even painful at times. We are not supposed to judge the world, but to share the gospel with those in need - everybody. Not agreeing with or accepting everyone’s actions or ways of living doesn’t mean we hate anyone. Jesus literally told us to do this. He doesn’t hate anybody, either. This is why He died for us. If you think Christians are bad people, it’s either because: the church hasn’t done a great job to the greater public in stewarding love and kindness to the world and many people have been hurt due to false teaching and unbiblical practices, (and i can 100% sympathize with that), or, it also may be because you don’t understand who He is and how powerful He is in loving and healing us. Or maybe you just don’t agree with the fullness of His teachings because, while, yes, He is 100% love, He also convicts and teaches us His way in how we are to live. That’s the fullness of the gospel. I used to feel that way too before i came to Christ. But He absolutely changed my life and we love Him because He first loved us.

We (me and others) as Christians should be walking in His love and giving that out to others, too. A huge amount of us DO do that. It’s just overshadowed. So i disagree that you think all Christans are terrible people because it isn’t true. However, i can’t convince you of that and i think you are 100% entitled to that opinion. Just showing you that there is a “good” side of Christianity too - because that’s how it’s supposed to be. That’s His heart for the church and for the world. If we have Christ in us, we’ll act like Him. By His own standards. With grace, love, kindness and all the other fruits of the spirit. If we allow ourselves to and for Him to work in us (i know some do not and end up taking His name in vain and tarnishing His reputations, which ruins the whole point.) That makes me sad. I hope my tone wasn’t mean or off-putting, i meant everything genuninely and lighthearted. But i felt that it was appropriate to say this because people have the wrong idea of what Christianity is and automatically assume we are all the worst people in the world when it’s not the case. Especially if we truly are following Him and taking His Word seriously.

Idk who needs to hear this but you ARE a bad person for being Christian and you need to stop.

[zeb-z]

Foolish and Cellbit, day before the last day of Purgatory, fighting one v one to balance their kills because they have the same amount of kills. Cellbit quoting the “we are not fish” to him, Foolish smiling wide, “don’t forget, don’t forget!” Something about how maybe Cellbit finds the deeper meaning in the statement, or at least that there is one. How Cellbit confessed to his kills day one and Foolish confessed to covering for him. How the fish analogy for the federation and its workers as fish in an aquarium mean that much more. How Cellbit was the first person Foolish got a horse. How they worked together on that fort in the desert, Foolish on exterior and Cellbit on interior (“if you find yourself against the world, I’d be happy to build another castle with you”). How Foolish contains multitudes and so does Cellbit but at the end of the day, whatever side they seem to choose, whatever they tell everyone else, they are family. Against the Feds. Against Bad and the other team. Against the world. Don’t forget we are not fish!

[tbob-enthusiast]

Messy school doodles HAHEHHE

Season 2 Robbie (not canon Robbie ofc, but rather the "S2" of my own fic which I may or may not ever finish). The lore is that his hair was MUCH longer than this, but it got shaved off due to Lore Reasons™ and now it's growing back :]

NOT STAN. That's my beta Dipper HAHEHHEE. My notes are just emphasizing how similar they look. Me, earlier today, drawing beta Dipper: "STAN PINES ?! 😨😮😮😨😨😨"

Perhaps. Gay people. I am thinking about it really hard fr