#it was just so. like why did this have to even be branded as a barbie movie if you didn't really care

[merakiui]

there is a knock at your door.

yandere!jade leech x (gender neutral) reader x yandere!floyd leech cw: yandere, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, stalking, fear/paranoia, kidnapping note - will you open it? // a birthday gift for the lovely and amazing @fish-brain-go-brrrr!!!!!!! may your special day be filled with eels, tako, and boundless happiness. (´▽`ʃƪ)♡ thank you for being a wonderful friend!! have the best birthday and enjoy this little gift hehe!!!! 🎉

Knock, knock. 

The door opens to reveal your friend since forever: Azul Ashengrotto.

And, more importantly, his Alaskan Malamute, who bounds over in quick clicks to greet you. You laugh as she all but pushes past Azul’s legs in an effort to reach your outstretched arms.

“Well, excuse you!” Azul laughs. She slobbers all over your face in her form of affectionate greeting before pulling away to sniff curiously at your suitcase. “Someone’s excited to see you.”

“I haven’t even gotten through the door,” you remark in between giggles.

“Okay, Pepper, that’s enough.” Azul clicks his tongue and she parts from you (not before delivering one final lick to your cheek. He smiles and pats her affectionately. “Good girl.”

Despite Pepper’s impressive size, she’s nothing but a softie. A gentle giant, some would describe her. You remember when she was just a puppy, small enough to be cradled in Azul’s arms like a human baby. How she’s grown!

“If you’d come this way, you can put your stuff down.” Azul shuffles aside to allow you to step fully into the foyer of his smartly-furnished home. “I’m sure you’re already familiar with everything, but it won’t hurt to reiterate.”

“Please do. It’s been a while since I’ve been at your place. Doesn’t seem like anything’s changed, though.”

He hums and shuts the door behind you. It locks smoothly. You trail after Azul, wheeling your suitcase down the hall and into the sitting room. Pepper bounds after the both of you and makes herself comfortable on a fluffy dog bed.

“Pepper’s feeding schedule hasn’t changed. Although I did switch to a different brand of dry food. This one is much better. Vet’s orders and all that. And every month I have a chef come in to prepare her a special, nutritionally balanced meal with only the freshest ingredients.”

“Wow! Isn’t she spoiled?” you tease in an exaggerated baby voice.

“I take care of my things,” he replies simply, shrugging your playful remark off, “and Pepper deserves only the finest.”

“I’m sure she appreciates it.”

As if having realized she’s the subject of conversation, Pepper barks.

Azul leads you through the house into the kitchen. It looks different from the last time you saw it and you realize he must have had it redone. Every appliance is brand-new, winking back at you when you peek into each gleaming surface.

Sleek, you think, admiring the wall oven. 

“Pepper gets one cup of dry food twice every day. Once in the morning and once at night. On Fridays, I give her a can of wet food as a treat. She can have that whenever you think is best. I usually do it around late morning, early afternoon.”

“Dry food twice each day. Wet food Friday. Got it.”

He opens a small door to a cupboard packed neatly with cans and containers. “This is where I keep her food. This bigger door is for human food. The wonderful pantry.” He knocks on it playfully.

Knock, knock.

You attempt a poor joke. “So it’s not just all dog food?”

“I have to feed myself,” he says, dramatically aghast. “I’m not a dog.”

“You sure about that?”

Azul barks out a chuckle. His mouth quirks up in an amused half-grin. “I’m sorry to disappoint. If it makes you feel any better, I’ve stocked this one full of everything indicated in the preferences you sent me.”

“So that’s why you asked me for that list! I just thought you wanted food recs.”

“That, too. You have unique tastes.”

“Microwave and canned meals are always there for me in my darkest hours.”

He hums. “Well, I’ve made sure to get each of your human favorites, so you needn’t feen for those too much.”

There’s a razored edge to his remark that makes you shrivel inside. As if your appetite is cheap in some way, more like a dog’s than a person’s.

But this is his house and it’s his money. You wouldn’t put it past him to factor in the pay cut for unnecessary sass. So you simply bare your teeth in a smile and take the punch, whether it was intended for you or not. Sometimes you forget he’s supposed to be your friend. 

“You’re welcome to use the kitchen. The whole house is your oyster, really,” he continues, guiding you towards the back door. It’s then when you notice the little black camera positioned in the corner of the room, its red eye peering soundlessly back at you. You wonder if that’s a new addition—the dog cameras. You can’t remember if they were there the last summer you were here. “Pepper has a tendency to stay out longer than she needs to after she’s done her business. She’ll come to the door once she’s had her fill, so there’s no need to fret. Although I’m sure she’ll listen to you. She’s quite obvious in her favoritism…”

You laugh but not because it’s funny. Because it’ll hopefully land you within his good graces, which is patently absurd if he’s meant to be your friend. You’re not even sure you can call these favors friendship when they’re transactional. If anything, you’re friendlier with Pepper than you are with Azul.

Am I really closer with a dog than a human? you think as he opens the door for you to view the fenced-in yard. You watch Azul gesture, his lips moving with his words. Actually, maybe Azul’s the dog.

Doubtful, but that doesn’t make the imagery any less comedic.

“I’ll be back next Monday. If you need anything or have any questions, you have my number. Oh, but just in case I’ve written the schedule for you and pasted it on the fridge should you forget.”

“I’ll be fine. It’s nothing I haven’t done before.”

At that, he smiles sincerely. “Thank you. I really do appreciate this, considering everything was such short notice.”

“Nah, don’t worry. We’re friends. Plus, Pepper loves me.”

He chuckles. “I suppose that’s more than enough of a bonus. Speaking of which, how much would you like to be paid?”

“However much you’d like to give me,” you blurt and immediately regret it.

“I researched the average pay for dog-sitters, but there were just so many conflicting opinions and variables. So what do you think would be best? Please don’t sell yourself short on account of my asking. I’m always willing to give you more for your services.”

Taking a pause, you contemplate his words. If you factor in the grocery trip he made on your behalf and his letting you stay for the week alongside the tasks you’ll be completing for Pepper…

You open your mouth to suggest four-hundred madol, but he beats you to it—and with a completely different amount.

“Does three-hundred suffice?”

“Sure. No, yes. Yeah, that works.” You smile, but you aren’t very pleased.

“Wonderful! If you ever find yourself thinking you might need more, please do tell me. I want to make sure you’re paid accordingly. Good work deserves equally good acknowledgement, wouldn’t you agree?”

You nod. If you know anything about Azul, it’s that he’s always willing to work with you when it comes to finances. He’s a businessman, so of course he’d know how to flawlessly navigate these types of situations. And having built himself a career and life on hard work, he has the confidence to throw numbers around and see which one sticks.

Briefly, as you follow him to the front door, you try to imagine yourself in his shoes—a businessperson who dresses smart every day, who never has to worry about money, who doesn’t have to be silently amazed by shiny appliances and refurbished kitchens.

And then you wonder if Azul is in the market for a spouse, but that idea is swiftly stamped out when you realize how silly it sounds.

He props his suitcase against the wall and bends down to welcome Pepper, who can easily match his height, into his arms. She licks at his face, sniffing the cologne spritzed on his suit, and he doesn’t seem to fuss over the hair.

“I’ll see you in a week. Be good to (Name) while I’m gone.”

Upon hearing your name, she whips her head up to look at you.

“She’s always good no matter what,” you vouch, reaching to scratch behind her ears. Her tail wags wildly. “The best girl.”

“I’m glad.” Azul pulls away. He plucks a lint roller from the side pouch in his backpack and casually brushes down his front. “I trust you’ll be fine in my absence? Do feel free to sleep wherever—whether on the sofa or in the guest bedroom upstairs. The sheets were just washed and the room is clean. Mine is as well, but I suppose it may be awkward to offer it.” He coughs into his fist. “Regardless, whichever space you find most comfortable, consider it yours for the duration of your stay.”

“Thank you for everything, Azul.” You hold the door for him as he drags his suitcase over the threshold, his backpack hanging from one shoulder. “Have a safe flight.”

Pepper joins you at the door to watch. You wave to him while he lifts his belongings into the trunk of his car, and then within mere minutes he’s pulling away and driving out of sight.

“And that’s that,” you announce, ducking back inside with Pepper. You shut the door and lock it. Surveying the sitting room, your hands situated on your hips, you wonder what you should do now. She peers up at you, just as expectant. 

The first thing you decide to do is peruse the pantry and the fridge. All of your favorites are arranged within. It’s actually too much, you realize, now unable to settle on a single option for dinner.

So instead you swipe the money Azul’s left for you on the counter—in case of emergencies, the note reads—and decide that this predicament is dire enough for pizza.

Knock, knock.

You pop up from the sofa and trot over to open the front door. Pepper gets there before you, barking loudly at the person on the other side. Gently, you shush her and peek out through the small crack to greet the driver. They smile and hand over your food. Rushing through the process, you give them the amount owed.

The door shuts and locks with a click.

“You’re babysitting for the same rich guy? You’d think he’d give you a raise or something since you do it so often,” Ace mutters into the phone.

“Yeah, well, it’s only a week.”

“Still a week’s worth of work. Why do you even feel bad? Ask for more. He said he’d give it to you, didn’t he?”

“I dunno… I mean, we already agreed on an amount and I don’t wanna seem like a greedy asshole—”

“(Name), he’s rich. They’re all greedy assholes. If he has the money to spoil his dog with monthly fancy feasts,” he says, putting on a posh accent, “then he has the money to pay you what you deserve. If you want, I could always say something. J-Just because you’re too chicken and all, I mean! Sometimes you need superstar Ace to step in. No need to thank me. I know I’m great.”

Propping your feet on the armrest at the end of the loveseat, you roll your eyes at the ceiling. “Whatever would I do without you?”

“Case in point! So you should totally ask him for more. Wring him out like a money rag.”

“We’ll see… He did buy a bunch of food for me and he’s letting me stay. He even left money for emergencies.”

“You used it, right?”

“Of course I did! I’m not stupid.”

Ace laughs. “So you’re alone then?”

“The dog’s here, too. You wanna say hi?” You tap your phone. “Okay, you’re on speaker. Pepper, you wanna meet my friend?”

“What’s up, Pepper!”

She lifts her head from where she’s resting on her cushion, her ears raised curiously. Her only response is a soft huff.

“She says hi.”

“You sure you’re not putting words in her mouth?”

“Surprised you couldn’t understand her, you dog.”

“Hey!”

Grinning, you pick at a loose string on your sweater. Azul’s house is always so cold. “But, yes, it’s just the dog and me. Why?”

Ace is quiet for an uncharacteristic beat. Eventually, he clears his throat. “Dunno. Just figured you might want some company. I could come over.”

You understand the implication coyly woven into his words. “I’d say yeah—”

“Really?!”

“But he’s got cameras. For the dog, I think.”

“So just cover them up?”

“Wow, great suggestion. How long did it take you to think of that one, brainiac?”

“I’m just saying… He’s away on a business thing, right? How much time is he gonna have to watch the cameras?”

“If he’s neurotic enough, he’ll find time.”

“He shouldn’t be if he trusts you to look after the house.”

“He also trusts how easy it’ll be to connect the dots if something goes missing from his house.”

“It’s not criminal to have a guest over! Geez. You make it sound so illegal…”

“Tough luck. If you really wanna hang out, we can just get lunch next time I’m—”

Knock, knock.

You sit up slightly on the sofa, brows furrowed. Is someone at the door? At this hour? You’re certain Azul isn’t expecting anyone, and the mail isn’t due to come until tomorrow morning. You glance at Pepper. Her eyes are closed, but her ears are raised, listening.

“Hey, Ace?”

“Yeah? What’s up?”

“Hold that thought. I think someone’s at the door.”

You manage to catch the very end of Ace’s don’t-get-murdered warning just before you set your phone down. Azul’s door has a panel of frosted glass, so even if you wanted to discern the person’s features on the other end you’d have to open it for confirmation. All you can go off of are shadows.

Unlocking the door, you pull it open and poke your head outside. The crisp air hits you like a slap.

No one’s there.

You check around in case someone dropped something off, but there’s nothing in sight. Nothing on the stoop. No mail to collect.

Did someone have the wrong house? you think, trying to picture the scenario in your mind. Or maybe some dumb kids are pranking me. 

Now irritated, you shut the door in a huff.

It’s summer. Don’t they have anything better to do?

Maybe it’s precisely because it’s summer that they don’t.

You choose to brush this annoyance aside in favor of picking up your phone to return to the conversation.

“Sorry about that. I’m back.”

“Everything good?”

“Yeah. No, yeah. All good here. Just some kids thinking they’re funny.”

“Yeaaah, no surprises there.”

“You’d think they’d stay away. Azul’s probably got enough money to sue them for disturbing the peace or some other stuffy nonsense and win.”

“They’re kids. They’re not gonna know any better.”

“Says the public menace.”

“I’m not that bad! Cut me some slack. I’ll have you know, I’ve matured significantly since my school days and I am very much a changed man.”

“Yeah, oookay.”

“I’m serious!”

“Sure, Mr. Mature. Anyway, it’s late. I should let Pepper out and get to bed.”

“You sure you don’t want me to sing you to sleep?” he teases.

“I actually value my sense of hearing, so no. Thanks, though.”

Before he can retort, you bid him sweet dreams and hang up. Gazing at the camera positioned in the corner, you rise to your feet.

The cameras are definitely new.

“Pepper, sweetheart, you wanna go outside?”

She seems to have understood that last part, for she scrambles out of her bed and pads over to the back door with a swaying tail. You open the door for her, and she rushes past you in a blur of fur.

Good. She’ll get one last run and bathroom break in before bed and hopefully we’ll be fine until morning.

Like a wine stain on a white shirt, your eyes are drawn to the camera once more. You can understand having cameras outside the property, but inside the house feels…unusual. But then you’ve never had a dog of your own and you’ve always lived in apartments on the highest floor, so maybe this is what most dog owners do when they need to monitor an overactive animal.

Maybe they’re those cameras that you can speak through! If that’s the case, then I can totally see him talking to Pepper or scolding her if she’s up to no good. Okay, that makes a little more sense now.

Another reason hits you, and you feel foolish for not realizing it first: For safety and security’s sake, too. Of course.

Your phone buzzes then and you pull it from your pocket to read the message. Ace has sent you something stupid on Magicam, no doubt. You’re about to open it and confirm when—

Knock, knock.

An admonishment on the tip of your tongue, you storm through the hall towards the front door. You throw it open this time, and like before you find empty space.

“Not funny,” you seethe, stepping out into the cold night to peer through the neat hedges and flower bushes. Surely those kids are hiding somewhere… “It’s late. Go home already!”

You don’t receive a reply. For a moment, you wait in anticipation. Wherever they’re hiding, they’ll have to get up and retreat eventually. It’s oddly quiet. You strain to listen for any giggles or whispers.

Nothing but suffocating silence.

And then Pepper barks, and you nearly jump out of your skin. You shut the door slowly, watching the outside slim down until eventually all you see is your warped reflection in the frosted glass.

Weird…

Again, Pepper barks.

“I’m coming! Wait just a moment, Pepper!”

You lock the door and scurry to let her in. 

Come tomorrow, those kids won’t be able to hide in the daylight, you tell yourself as you brush your teeth. And when I catch them, I’ll make sure to give them a talk on why it’s not nice to bother other people, especially at night when it’s dark out. It’s just unsafe for kids to be out late anyway!

When you settle into bed, you realize the house is perfectly still and silent. Pepper is snoozing comfortably on Azul’s bed. You never realized it, but Azul’s house seems bigger at night. More rooms. More space. Lots of shadows. A creak every now and then as everything settles. It’s in between sleep that you begin to wonder if you locked the door.

It’s fine. I’ve got Pepper to keep me safe.

Comforted with this knowledge, you fall asleep.

Knock, knock.

There is a knock at your door.

You jerk awake and, rather clumsily, feel around in the bed for your phone. It flashes the time back at you. The rest of the world comes trickling in through dull, still-sleepy senses. You finally register Pepper’s bark, which is beginning to sound more like an alarm with how relentless it is.

“Shit. It’s already afternoon?” And then you sit up. “Shit! It’s already afternoon!”

You rush down the stairs, apologizing profusely to Pepper with each step. She’s waiting for you at the very bottom, pacing in circles and barking at you.

“I know, I know! I’m sorry. I completely slept in. You must have to go really bad.”

She races you to the door and you yank it open in your haste, heaving a relieved breath when she bursts outside. You lean against the doorframe for support and bask in the sunshine that spills in.

The weather’s beautiful today. I can’t believe they were saying it might rain.

While Pepper runs laps outside, you busy yourself with filling Pepper’s bowls with the recommended amount of dry food and then fresh water. Her shadow appears against the door a few minutes later and so you let her in.

“Just in time,” you praise, watching as she trots eagerly over to her bowl.

With that out of the way, you begin preparing a very late breakfast for yourself. You can’t remember when the dishes from before were cleaned. Did you do them last night before bed?

“Doesn’t really matter,” you murmur, slicing fruit for a salad. “One less thing I have to do. Thank you, (Name) from the past.”

You skim through the notes Azul’s pasted to the bulletin board. Instructions for Pepper’s feeding schedule, reminders, times and dates. But then there are also things he’s left for himself. A calendar with important events marked. Various notes for miscellaneous things: Bring suit in for cleaning. Meet with dietician at the end of the month. Celebrate colleague’s birthday. These tiny slivers of his life remind you that Azul is a busy person like you. When you look at the stars he’s doodled around dates of particular importance, you feel yourself smiling. He’s not such an intimidating figure when you look at him through his calendar.

A text from Ace coaxes you out of your thoughts: u still on for tonight?

Tonight? But then you remember. Oh, fuck! Deuce’s birthday! I forgot we planned the surprise for today.

hell yeah!!! is your enthusiastic reply.

Later, while you’re getting ready for the evening, you think you hear someone knocking. But the running water drowns out all sounds from downstairs. If Pepper isn’t barking, it’s likely nothing.

You leave the house somewhat frazzled, hoping to shake off the strange suspicion that something isn’t right.

The biggest surprise, aside from jumping out to shock Deuce when he walked into the restaurant on account of thinking it a date—yes, you and Ace catfished him for this very cruel, irreverent birthday joke—is perhaps the text you receive from Azul.

Is it raining? Did Pepper track mud in the house?

You read it three more times and then you peek outside the window. It’s been raining ever since you arrived. So much for perfect weather… But Pepper couldn’t have gotten into any mud because the ground was dry earlier today.

No?? you write back, confusion bubbling in your chest. I haven’t sent her out since this morning when it was sunny. It’s raining now, but she hasn’t been out at all.

Horrified, you begin to wonder if you somehow spilled something during breakfast. Or did Pepper have an accident in the house? Did she get into something? A million questions headline your thoughts, overwhelming in their intensity. Thankfully, it’s Ace and Deuce who bring you back to the present.

“Ace told me you’re doing that house-sitting gig for that guy again.”

“Oh, yeah! I am. Dog-sitting, too.” You stuff your phone away.

Best not to think about it.

“Didja catch those kids?”

Deuce looks between you and Ace, a brow raised. “What kids?”

“You totally missed it! I guess some kids were knocking on (Name)’s door all night long.”

“They’re still doing it. I think…”

“No way!”

“Sooner or later, it becomes less annoying and more like harassment.” Deuce cringes. “And you haven’t caught them yet?”

“No. Or… Well, I thought I heard some knocking this morning. But I was still asleep and the dog was barking.”

“This guy has cameras, doesn’t he?” Ace looks to you for confirmation.

“Yeah, but it’s not like I have access to them.”

“Maybe that’ll drive whoever’s bothering you away. If they see the cameras, they’ll realize they’re being recorded and hopefully leave you alone.”

“Hopefully.”

“I offered to come over.”

“It’s not that serious.”

Ace and Deuce share a look of doubt.

“Really! It’s not, guys. All they’re doing is knocking on the door. Irritating as hell? Yes. But it’s all harmless. They’re outside. I’m inside. Plus, I’ve got Azul’s dog. She’s huge.”

“Just…keep yourself safe. Call one of us if you need to. We’ll come over,” Deuce says, poking around at the food on his plate.

“I will. Thank you. But let’s not worry about any of that. It’s your birthday! It’s supposed to be all about you.”

Somehow the unsettling atmosphere ebbs away, replaced with the joyous delusions of short-lived celebration.

You return to Azul’s house to find muddy pawprints on the floor. It takes you thirty minutes to scrub the floors clean, and for the entire time you’re racking your brain trying to understand how this happened. Was there mud in the backyard that you just weren’t aware of? Or did Pepper truly go outside when it was raining? Did you leave the door unlocked?

Surely Azul must have seen what happened on the cameras.

Something isn’t adding up. You spend your entire shower constructing the scene and its many possibilities, but none of them make a lick of sense.

It’s just you and Pepper, right?

As you toss and turn in bed, struggling to relax under a duvet that feels too itchy and hot, you think you hear someone knocking on the door.

Or maybe it’s the window. Maybe it’s right below you, tapping at the ceiling, pacing around in the kitchen, reaching to pet Pepper.

Maybe you’re just dreaming.

Azul calls you on the seventh day to check in. You consider telling him about the knocking, the dishes, that rainy day when Pepper tracked in mud, but you can’t seem to form the words without sounding utterly insane. So you smile and lie.

“No issues here. Pepper’s been wonderful.”

Azul hums, pleased. “Aah, I miss her something fierce. Oh, can you tell her I said that?”

You repeat his words to Pepper. “I dunno… I think she’s starting to like me more than you.”

“Well, isn’t that a problem? How else will she get her fix of you once you’re gone?”

“I’ll be back next time you need me.” And then you hesitate. “You…will need me again, right?”

“Of course. I always need you, (Name).”

There’s an awkward pause on his end. He clears his throat, but you don’t add anything to break the tension.

“Um, right. Yeah… Enjoy the rest of your business trip. I hope all is well with…that.”

“It is, yes. Thank you.”

“Then I won’t keep you.”

You end the call before he can say anything else. Pepper, who had been resting beside you on the sofa, tilts her head at you.

“Don’t tell him I said this,” you whisper, “but your owner is really bad at words sometimes.”

She leans in and licks your cheek.

Someone knocks on the door and lies in wait. You watch with bated breath, repeating the same phrase over and over: “Don’t open the door. Don’t open the door. Don’t open the door.”

Knock, knock.

She reaches for the knob.

“No… Come on. Don’t do it. It’s so clearly a trap!” You almost don’t want to watch. You know she’s as good as dead as soon as she opens the door, for the killer will descend and drag her back inside her own house.

Knock, knock.

She’s already opened the door. As expected, the killer pounces like the Grim Reaper and she shrieks like a banshee.

Knock, knock.

Knock, knock.

Knock, knock, knock.

Remote in hand, you lower the volume and focus on the silence that creeps in shortly after. You wait for a creak or another knock—a disturbance of some sort.

Slowly, you turn to glance at the door and then at the windows nearby with the curtains drawn. As quietly as you can manage, you set the remote down and slither off of the sofa. Pepper doesn’t seem bothered by the sounds, but you can tell she’s listening, her body tense.

No one’s out there. It’s nothing. 

You peel the curtains back ever so slightly and peek out at the darkness. There’s no one on the stoop. No one at the window. No one.

So then where was the knocking coming from? Was it really just the movie?

Or… No, certainly not. You refuse to entertain that thought.

But, if not the movie and not from outside, where else could the sound be coming from? Where else if not from within these very walls?

You shut the curtains and return to the sofa. Horror is swapped for a cheesy rom-com. You need the laughter and the cringe and every fluffy thing in between to calm the electricity in your nerves.

And it works. You fall asleep by the third rom-com, listening to cheesy one-liners and bad jokes with terribly written punchlines.

Knock, knock.

And then a noisy clatter.

You’re shaken from your slumber in a daze. You’re not sure what time it is or where you even are, and it takes a moment for clarity to filter in through the grogginess. You’re wrapped up in blankets on the bed in the guest room in Azul’s house and there’s someone standing at the foot of the bed, watching you in the gloom, and—

Wait.

How did you get to bed? Most importantly, what’s that blinking back at you? It can’t be Pepper. Pepper doesn’t have two-toned eyes. Pepper can’t stand on two legs. You squint through the shadows to pick out the shape of them, and your blood freezes when you realize it’s a person.  

A person. A person.

Someone’s inside the house and they’re looking right at you.

Do they know I’m awake? you think, your thoughts racing wildly. You lie there, rigid as a board and stiff as a corpse, and hope that they can’t tell. Calm down. Relax. Pepper will scare them off.

But then you notice she hasn’t barked a single time since you opened your eyes. Is she sleeping?

Terror pierces your heart. Did this person hurt her? Is she—

Don’t think about that.

Your eyes slide over towards the doorway, and you just about scream when you see another figure. The breath sticks in your throat. You know it’s another person because the way they lean so casually against the doorframe suggests a certain nonchalance with this situation. A nonchalance that can only belong to a person.

“Knock, knock. Aww. Did we wake you up?” It’s a man’s whispery drawl that combs through the room, raking through your scalp with sharp fingers, prodding at your ears like a hornet. “You looked so peaceful, too. Sorry about that.”

You’re not sure what you should do. Should you even try to run or escape when you’re already so cornered? Is there enough time to call for help? Will Pepper hear you if you shout? Should you play dead or feign sleep? What should you do?

What can you do?

You glance at the other figure. Unlike the other one, who sways and fidgets like he’s caught in a perpetual, invisible breeze, this person is perfectly, eerily still. Almost like a doll.

But then the man in the doorway laughs. “Layin’ it on thick there, ain’tcha? They’re already shakin’ like a leaf. No need to overdo it.”

A razored smile cuts through the gloom. Your eyesight adjusts enough to catch sight of a J-shaped strand of hair and the glint of an earring.

“No need to look so scared,” he continues, but you can’t pry your eyes from the other’s smile. It’s a smile of grotesque pleasure—one that feasts on fear so palpable it might as well be a three-course meal for him. “We’re not gonna hurt you.”

Then will you do something much worse? you want to ask, but all you can do is blink.

“Just gonna take you somewhere nice and cozy. Nothin’ scary about that. Ain’t that right, Jade?”

“Indeed, Floyd.” A voice as smooth and soft as melted caramel. Maybe it would’ve been soothing in a different situation. 

Before you can scream or lunge out of bed, arms are reaching out to restrain you. A hand slaps over your mouth. Fingers curl into your arms. A sickly sweet rag is stuffed against your nose.

Your feet kick against the wall, a steady knock-knock-knocking like a heartbeat, until your muscles still and the fight is drained from you. Unconsciousness blankets your body and mind within minutes.

There is nothing more unnerving than returning to an empty house, especially when it was once filled with human presence. No one knows anything, but they could’ve if there was evidence. Incriminating footage is no good.

Azul certainly thinks so while he dons his finest suit and practices a few expressions in the mirror. Pepper watches him from where she lays curled on his bed.

“A hero must look exceptional when he rescues his dearest one. Most of all, he must be innocent and trustworthy. Wouldn’t you say so, Pepper?”

At that, she can only offer a halfhearted whimper. He smiles.

“Let’s go visit my (Name).”

[melanated-writersblock]

⋆˙⟡♡₊˚⊹.Lunch Rush.⊹˚₊♡⟡˙⋆

[CEO!Husband!Yunho x BlackFem!Exec!Reader]

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾. Where you and Yunho wanted to start trying for a baby, and with a long lunch break in your schedules, you decide to pay him a visit to try your hand at conception.

content: car sex, semi-public sex, thigh riding, cloth-ripping, piv, unprotected sex (wrap it up irl pls), cowgirl, doggy, full fledged backshots, like 2 creampies?

word count: 3.4k

a/n: This fic cost me 5 FUCKING DOLLARS TO MAKE?!?!?! I had to pay to use a fake text generator, so if any of you have a site or app that I can make fake text messages FOR FREE then PLEASE let me know😭. This was self indulgent but I wanna dedicate this fic to all my fellow Hotteoks🫶🏾 And the bitches that fantasize about getting nutted in and getting it poppin’ in the back of the parking lot (in theory of course)! WwaBRiM (if you can’t tell from the fact the reader is rocking soft locs😛)

‧₊˚✩. ˚. ♡ ☁︎

To this day…you and Yunho’s BIGGEST regret in your relationship…is and ALWAYS WILL BE….agreeing to go to the christening of your friends’ 6-month old baby boy.

Everything was beautiful. The ceremony, the cathedral, the way the baby nestled into Yunho’s arms so naturally, and reached out to play with your bangles with such curiosity and wonder. It altered both of your brain chemistries, and you weren’t sure if it was for the better or not.

Your friends didn’t help either, saying things like “Parenthood would look so good on you two!” and “I can’t wait for your baby shower invitations.”.

How could they…….

After you pushed your meetings back to later in the week. After Yunho gave his team a free day when they could’ve been in the office perfecting the play-through on his new game before its release. Two very busy people with very busy work schedules, and you carved out time to come support your friends and their son, and they pay you back with…….

BABY FEVER?!?!

You and Yunho planned your futures out to a T. Go to university, get your respective degrees, join a company that you interned with, work your way up, become the boss, get married, honeymoon in The Maldives and spend your paid vacation days in The Swiss Alps.

Starting a family was definitely in there somewhere, but everything fell in line so well that it got lost. You’re at the top of your games…Yunho, figuratively and literally, with his gaming company being the best in the country and all…and you became the creative director for a top cosmetic brand. It really was all good. But it was lacking. And you both felt it. Ever since that christening.

You felt it every time one of your work partners went on maternity and paternity leave. Every time there were children in the offices on ‘Bring Your Kids to Work Day’. Every time Yunho saw posts or videos of kids around the world dressing up as characters he helped create. Every time your homegirls would send you milestones of their babies taking their first walk, or biting into a lemon for the first time. You two worked hard and accomplished everything you wanted to, everything except starting a family. It resonated for days after that christening.

For Weeks.

Months, even.

The energy around the house shifted. Yunho would steal glances at you as you did the simplest of routines, imagining your belly being round as you sip your favorite tea in the kitchen, waddling from room to room barefoot and pregnant. And you’d watch attentively as he’d play his video games, envisioning a child full of joy as he teaches them how to defeat their first villain. After a while it got to a point where neither of you would hide it. It became all too real, too wanted. And why not? What was stopping you two?

Everything was green lit once you and Yunho put it into the atmosphere and finally discussed it. You both were just about ready to start baby proofing the house and nothing even happened yet, becoming more proactive than you already were. Tracking apps were monitored, routines were tweaked, and everything seemed to be doable…but your work schedules…your jobs were the biggest obstacle. Just when could you slip away for a bit to see each other? When would be the right time to make a ba-

“Hey, I’m picking up my kid so we can go to lunch. I’ll be back in 2 hours!”

Your Editor in Chief pops their head in your office briefly before heading down the hall to the elevator, snapping you out of your rambling thoughts.

…………..Lunch Break.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

You reverse your sedan into the space next to him before hoping out and swishing towards the driver’s door, knocking softy. Your ears perk up at the sound of r&b playing and a silent laugh escapes you. The dark windows of the door lower, revealing Yunho in the driver’s seat, fully reclined with the top buttons of his shirt undone and the silver crucifix you adorned him with for your anniversary gleaming.

“For a second I thought you were backing out on me.” He smiles at you, his voice deeper than usual, evidence of a brief stolen nap. “Traffic was hell, I would’ve been here in half the time otherwise.” The door unlocks and you climb in, grazing over Yunho’s body as he adjusts the driver’s seat sitting up slightly, he grabs ahold of you to help you straddle him and closes the door back behind you. And like clockwork, you lean in, beginning your onslaught of abuse on his lips.

Snaking your hands into Yunho’s hair, he moans, deepening the kiss, his tongue dancing ever so eloquently with yours. “I missed you.” He says breathlessly between kisses, “You saw me this morning before I left boo!” You tease him, fixing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose that slid down in the midst of your passion, “That’s too long.” He pokes his lips out, and you console him with light pecks to ease his playful angst. “You’re so needy, you know that right?” “And you love me for it.”

Yunho starts to undo his shirt more, a sinister smile on the corner of his lips as he looks you over. “Come here,” You lean into him, your hand placed against his bare chest, the rock on your wedding band a flashy contrast to his skin. “Lift up for me baby.” You lift off of Yunho for a second as he helps you readjust yourself, now straddling one of his thighs. The pinstriped black skirt you wore for work today riding up your thighs. You let out a huff, immediately feeling the pressure of Yunho’s toned thigh on your bundle of nerves. Your black tights and panties not serving as any sort of buffer to the sensations. Your pussy lips spread apart feeling the course texture of his slacks. You let out a staggering sigh, reality finally setting in what you were about to do. “That’s right, you’re gonna ride me and come all over my thigh, and thennn~” Yunho begins to rock your hips back and forth on his thigh. You lurch forward, your right hand immediately planting on the interior wall of the Rover, “Damn, feels good right?” “Yeah, yes it does. Fuck.”

You place your other hand on his shoulder, stealing support as you rock onto him quicker, a few front strands of your freshly done soft locs coming undone from the high pony you put them in this morning, to his delight. Yunho enjoyed the sight of you working yourself on him, he loved how neat you looked before you climbed in the suv with him, and is obsessed with the thought of how disheveled and fucked out you’re gonna look when he’s done and you climb back out. Fuck, it’s all he’s thought about since you mentioned it in the texts. He couldn’t wait to get his hands on you, to touch you, to feel you, to fuck you, to ruin you, to caress you, to make love to you, to put a baby in you……finally.

You watch Yunho as he closes his eyes, deep in thought, mindlessly guiding your hips against him, as if he’s immediately feeling all of the pleasure that you are in that moment. You begin to rock against him quicker, an impending climax moments away. Yunho opens his eyes, watching you as your moans get louder, less polite, more shameless. You lean your head forward trying to compose yourself as much as you possibly can in this situation, and he smiles at the sight. “I’m close………..fuck, I’m close.” Your hand now caresses his face as you lean your head on his shoulder, hunching him like a bitch in heat. “You’re close?” “Yeahhhh~” “Fuck, you’re gonna come all over my thigh like that?” “Yeah!” “Yeahhh, just like that?” “Yes! Yes! Just like that!” Yunho bounces his leg softly as you continue to rake against it, riding out your high as a warm dampness spreads on his designer slacks. He moans at the feeling, damn near coming untouched just from witnessing your pleaser unfold before him.

You steady your panting for air. Embarrassed, you pat at the wet spot you left on your husband, “I did not expect that I-“ “I did, you’re ovulating.” Yunho caresses your cheeks fully heated with shame, and kisses you, laughing into the kiss. “I don’t think you understand how hot that was, don’t apologize my love.” He gestures to the passenger seat, helping you off of him and guiding you there to sit tight and catch yourself for a second. He then leans the drivers seat back fully again, stepping over it to sit in the spacious middle seat. He unbuttons his shirt the rest of the way before removing his glasses, tossing them somewhere far in the back seats. He holds one of his hands out to you, patting his thigh sharply with his other, ordering your immediate presence.

You crawl over the front armrest and take Yunho’s hand as he helps you towards him. You start to kneel down in front of him and he stops you, “Nooo no, no, none of that today.” “But I really want to.” “I knowww, and you do it so well, but we’re kind of on a fixed schedule.” Yunho gestures behind you to the time on the soft glowing screen on the dashboard. You sigh in agreement, “I wanted to get you ready too.” “Oh babe,” He begins to undue his belt buckle and pants, his fully hard cock slapping against his lower abdomen as he slides his pants down lower freeing him. “Does it look like I need to get ready?” Your mouth waters, his cock glistening as precum trails down the tip, and you moan at the sight. “Oh my God.” He laughs at your eager demeanor, “Come here baby,” he pats his thighs again signaling you to straddle him once more, your legs on either side of him cushioned by the materials used to adorn the luxury car seats.

Yunho hikes your skirt up higher, sliding his hands underneath to trail down your sheer-tights-clad inner thighs and up to your panties. Your breaths were short, shallow, hesitant. You closed your eyes as Yunho felt you up, getting you worked up again in the process, unbeknownst to himself, or was this all part of his plan? “These weren’t too pricey, right?” He pinches at your tights, “No they weren’t, why?”

****rrrr-rrrrrr-rrrrrrriiiiippp!****

You gasp as you feel the force from Yunho ripping your tights right down the middle, smacking his shoulder. “They weren’t pricey but they were my favorite!” “Shhh, I’ll buy you 10 more.” You lean your head on his shoulder, pouting…until you feel his slender hands move your panties to the side. Your breath begins to get shallow again, feeling his warm tip slide up and down your wet folds. You moan involuntarily, “Awww, come on baby I haven’t even put it in yet.” “I knowww, I don’t know what’s wrong with me today.” “I do,” You feel him slowly push into you, leaning your head back as you cry out. “This cunt was just waaaiting to get fucked, because today is a little different than the other days,” He picks up his pace, fucking up into you steady but firm, “Today your pussy is a little bit more needy for me,” the recoil of your ass sending vibrations through your lower body as Yunho’s movements are relentless. “Today you’re gonna let me get you pregnant.”

And there it was. Your brain immediately shuts off. “I’m gonna fuck you so good, and so hard-” “Unnnnhhhhhooohhhh my Godddddd!” “Yeahhhhh, yeah let me hear you baby,” You grip the disheveled collar of Yunho’s shirt, completely at his mercy, taking what he gives you. “I’m gonna cum all in this pretty fucking cunt and get you pregnant, I’m gonna make you a Mommy.” “Yunho Please! Pleaseee~” ���Please what my love?” Yunho lifts your chin up to meet his gaze, your dark brown eyes staring several miles into his own, communicating beyond a frequency that sound couldn’t even capture in that moment, and he understood every bit of it…but figured it would be fulfilling just to hear it fall from your lips, “Pleaseeee? What.” “Please make me a Mommy~” In seconds, he snakes an arm around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest as he drills into you. “Ahhhhhh!!!!” The sound of your screams, bounce off the interior of the car, and you pray that the seats absorb it all.

“Yesss, yes! Let me hear you Mama. Fuckkkk let me hear you!” “Fuckkkk!” “Uh huhhh~ Fuck! You sound so good taking my dick like this! Ughhhh~” You both were a mess, fully enraptured in pleasure and no longer prisoners to time. You place your forehead against Yunho’s now eye to eye as he continues to lean into you with force, your breathing syncing with his, both chasing your highs. “You’re gonna cum, aren’t you.” He asks you with dark eyes, almost as if it wasn’t a request. Suddenly you’re whimpering against his lips, “Yeah you are gonna cum, you’re close, so close for me.” “I’m-“ “I’m gonna-“ He mocks, imitating your whines, “You’re gonna what, cream around me and take this cum like a good little wife?” All you could do was gasp at his sharp remarks, “You’re gonna cum for me like a good little wife? Hm?” “Yeah!” “Yeah? You’re gonna take my fucking cum like a good fucking wife?” “Yes! Yes! Ye- Yes! Yes! Yes!” You gush around him, repeating your words like a mantra against his ear. He returns the favor, “Good Girl” replaying in his surprisingly vulgar vocabulary as he finishes inside of you. You collapse against him for some time. Aligning your heaving chest with his as you both come down. Clammy from the altercation. You swivel around some assuming it may help with the progress, and he moans a little.

“What are you doing?” Yunho laughs at you endearingly, watching you be an unintentional menace. “I don’t know I just thought it might do something.” You giggle some, lifting off of his softening length with your combined messes drooling out of you and down your inner thighs. Yunho takes it all in, shaking his head in amazement at the fucked out state of you. Just as he imagined it, better than he imagined, even. Staring him down, you study his body language, how he looks subtly exhausted but not TOO drained. Almost as if on a bodily timer, your temperature starts to rise again, “You’re plotting.” you narrow your eyes at him. Sucking in a sharp breath between teeth, Yunho helps you up, only to place you over the front armrest.

You squirm as your stomach and breasts make contact with the cold leather. “See I KNEW you were plotting!” “Oh hush, don’t act like you’re not excited.” Yunho makes light work of your tights, pulling off and discarding what was left of it, and sliding your panties off of one of your legs in order to spread them further apart. Your breathing catches at the gust of air that hits your pussy. Yunho’s cock inches away as he works his hand over it. He reaches his hand around holding it out to your mouth, “Spit.”, and you oblige him. He continues to work himself hard again, one hand bunching your business skirt up your waist, exposing your bare ass. His hand slides down to caress it, before landing a harsh smack, resorting back to soothing over the stinging spot. All marks undetectable on your brown skin, he lands a few more smacks on both cheeks, knowing he’ll be safe. You jolt and whine at the barrage of sharp pain and he leans down to pepper the side of your face in kisses, rubbing your attacked spots to soothe the pain.

“Don’t forget to breathe my love.” You didn’t realize you weren’t until he mentioned it, immediately offloading a heavy breath. Yunho clicks his tongue as he braces one hand on your shoulder to hold you in place, fiddling with the bunched up hem of your skirt. Your body stiffens as you feel him use his fingers to collect your cum and push it back into your pussy. You shudder in pleasure, still recovering from your last high, not too far from another if touched too much. You feel him shift behind you again as his cock teases its way past your entrance one more time. “Mmm, You wore this skirt on purpose Mama?” He glides into you with ease, bottoming out effortlessly, and you sink into the armrest, your moan resembling that of a pornstar’s. “You knew you were gonna see me to get this pretty pussy filled, Hmm?” Yunho immediately picks up the pace, keeping his hand firm on your shoulder, guiding you back onto him. “Ooooohhhhh~” “Yeahhhh? You wore this skirt because you knew you were gonna get knocked up with my babies? Huh?” Yunho’s words started to slur as they turned into shameless moans, “Yeahhh~ keep moaning for me, it’s just us here, keep going, I wanna hear youuu~” even he started sounding pornstar-like, it was music to your already ringing ears.

He began to pound into you with fervor, your tits now hanging over the armrest, bouncing violently as you grip the seating of the driver’s and passengers seat to avoid going headfirst into the dashboard. “Oh fuckkkk I’m gonna cum again, shit- shit- shittttt~” Yunho plants a foot on the flooring of the suv to steady himself as he leans flush against your back, engulfing you. “Yes, yes, yessss~ come inside of me pleaseeee~” Your final plea sends him over the edge, ultimately setting off a chain reaction that makes you cum around him all over again.

You shudder with each thrust as he slows his pace gradually before coming to a complete stop, staying in the same position as he bear hugs you from behind over the dashboard. You laugh to yourselves as you match your breathing once more, an exercise you both had been doing since the start of everything. Thank God workers at Yunho’s job actually took advantage of leaving the facility for lunch, or else your windows definitely would’ve been knocked on. Sure, the 5% tint helps, but you’re sure the car rocking would’ve given enough away.

Yunho peels himself off of you and helps you up, sitting you down next to him in the middle seats. You lay your head on his shoulders, the both of you visibly fucked out, his shirt open and hanging off of one shoulder with a button or two missing, crucifix chain crooked yet still sitting proudly on his chest, even after such a sinful act, your soft locs fully down, and splayed along and running down the side of Yunho’s torso, your skirt and his pants still undone, your blouse surprisingly still somewhat presentable. You both sit in solitude and enjoyment of each other for a little while. Yunho looks down at you lovingly, watching as you pull your phone out to do something. “Are you doing what I think you’re doing?” “Letting the Editor in Chief know that I’ll be out of the office for the rest of the day? Noo, I couldn’t possibly…” “Oh well that’s a shame…” You look at your husband, waiting, “Because I told the team to take the rest of the day off.” THAT’S why the deck looked so lifeless. “I can’t believe you set me up!” He peppers your face in kisses one last time.

“Alright, let’s get out of here, we defiantly need to change. We’re celebrating tonight.” “Tonight? Forrrrr?” “For theeee…..you know…..” Yunho gestures towards himself then your stomach, and you grin knowingly. “The lunch rush?” “Exactlyyy, the lunch rush.” He says before pulling you in for one last kiss. Yunho helps fix up your appearance before assisting you out of the Range Rover and back into your car. Kissing you for the last time yet again. “I’ll be right behind you.” He starts back to his vehicle, looking over to you, “Oh, feel free to put me in your schedule whenever you have an hour or two for lunch. Just to make sure it takes.” Yunho winks at you, getting back in the car as you both leave work for the day.

‧₊˚✩. ˚. ♡ ☁︎ If you liked what you read, please let me know, it gives me hope. Comments and Reblogs are always appreciated ‧₊˚✩. ˚. ♡ ☁︎

[tojisun]

sugar, spice, everything on ice (hockey au) - camgirl edi!

smut - voyeurism, porn watching, sharing, ambiguous ending; again, this is a non-canon part of sseoi! also ik this scenario is unrealistic but read for the vibes!!!

obsessed with this previous part posted, and can’t stop thinking about how the boys used to chirp at simon for calling his fave cam girl his girl, only for it to end there, anyway.

how johnny was the first to find out when he caught simon listening to your stream like it’s a fucking podcast while he was taping his stick.

it was still too early in the morning for practice, but simon had been out with a minor lower injury and no one was really shocked that he’s the first in the rink when he got his permission from their physio. it was nice to see their A excited to get back on ice because truthfully? they needed him back. the team wasn’t straggling by any means but there’s an obvious difference with simon out which was why johnny found himself just as excited when simon told the group chat the good news, bounding in early for the morning skate too.

there were soft murmurs slipping past the cracked door when he made his way, and johnny pushed through the entrance, expecting maybe someone else with riley — maybe their captain or their coach — but it’s just their A.

and his phone, at full volume and full brightness, showcasing a… porn?

amateur porn, from the looks of it.

“uh?” was all johnny could say.

simon looked up, not even really appearing to be mortified that johnny just walked in on him watching a porn live-stream; the healthy sheen on his face did not even break for an embarrassed blush and, really, johnny started wondering if there was something he was missing.

“hey, mate,” simon greeted, still unaffected and screw it, johnny decided to ignore the wet squelch coming from the phone to reach forward and clap his arms around his friend.

“good to see ye back, man,” johnny said, chuckling. simon rumbled a quiet laugh too, looking pretty pleased and at peace like there’s no raunchy moans rumbling from his speakers—

you know what? fuck it.

“so you pent up in a different way, or?” johnny asked, nodding at the phone.

simon blinked, brows wrinkling in confusion for a second, before clarity washed over him, so obvious that johnny could track the moment he remembered what he had been listening to before johnny walked in.

“oh,” he huffed, shoulders shaking in another burst of quiet chuckles. “y’ve got to see ‘er. fuckin’ beautiful, this one.”

that… was not what johnny expected but he dropped on the cubicle beside simon to peek at his screen. apparently, he glanced at the right time as he watched the way your cunt stretched around the girth of your vibrator, made of glass, and the image you made was so startlingly lewd that johnny couldn’t even help groaning in appreciation too.

simon grins with something akin to pride, like he was telling johnny, “see? what’d i tell you?”

johnny would forget about that day until simon’s blunder of using his public account to blast his feelings for you, his clearly-not-just-pure feelings, made national news. their poor PR and media intern were working overtime to fix simon’s mistake because of course simon did not stop at just retweeting your website’s link while professing how he’s never cum so hard for anyone. no, he had to take it a little farther — he mass liked about fifty posts that you have made in two months time in the span of the three hours since they’ve flown back from tampa.

it was hell; apparently his profile was so thoroughly linked to your own with how active he was within those three hours of liking everything he could, that they suggested he just delete his profile and start anew. johnny doubted he was going to, what with his brand deals and other things, but then you poked back at simon and simon was so enamoured that he just took off the rails and flirted with you publicly.

he was unbelievable. simon was horny and yearning — a weird mix, but one that… worked, apparently, because here you are now, standing before them, all pretty and breathtaking.

johnny can’t even deny that he’s not distracted because, well, because they’ve seen you.

naked.

and getting fucked to the point of snot and tears.

fuck, this was not an easy meet-and-greet.

.

it was difficult to not cross the line when chirping at simon about his new relationship but garrick had been firm with his reminder, staring them down with that downturned tilt of his lips that spoke of no-nonsense. and no one ever wants to disappoint their captain so they steered clear of the obvious, like the fact that they all, at one point, watched your videos because simon just wouldn’t shut up about you. he was damn near close to waxing poetry which would have been cute if, you know, simon did not sound like a pervert who’s clearly whipped for a stranger.

it was funny then. it’s downright petrifying now.

they know more about you than they wished they did, like the fact that your go-to toy when the ejaculating dragon one is in the ‘wash’ is that vibrating dildo that is probably half the girth of johnny’s arm which is to say that it’s fucking thick, but still, you were able to bully all of that in your pussy, whining and mewling, before fucking down on it so hard it was bulging out of the soft pudge of your belly. or how you like having your nipples clamped. or how you have such a thing for oral stuff that you’d deepthroat a dildo while bouncing on another one.

it was a whiplash, going from watching you touch yourself in ways unfathomable to seeing you in front of them, giggling as you and simon share quiet conversations like they’re some sacred things.

fuck.

not even kyle, with his big announcement, could fake normalcy because you were a locker room name. they’ve all recommended different videos to each other — hell, all of them are still in that group chat they made to share links with each other. sure, simon had created it but no one really put it to rest — messages like, “she got anything in [x] cosplay?” or, “saw a short clip of her rubbing her pussy on her washing machine in twitter, does anyone have the full ver?” were getting passed around.

you were the darling girl of the team, and now simon’s got you cuffed.

it was easy to pinpoint the source of tension — the guys want a taste.

johnny stares at you and simon, and the secretive little smiles and heated looks that the two of you are sharing with each other, and realizes that maybe, just maybe, they are allowed it.

[lialuvsaven]

Happy Birthday, Aventurine!!

“Aventurine always tries not to remember. He's never synced the Sigonian calendar system to check the date in trailblaze calendar, never makes the mistake of dwelling on the memories surrounding this day— even when he's too drunk to remember his own name. Done everything possible to not acknowledge it; because this day feels like nothing but a curse to him.

Unfortunately, Jade has now ensured that he never gets to forget his birthday, again.”

Pairing: Aventurine x reader

Tags: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Comfort in the end to compensate for everything else ❤️ Reader is not physically present in the fic (they're not dead it's ok)

wc: 3.3k

Aventurine was abruptly interrupted by a knock on the door just as the sun began to slant westward.

With a sigh, he puts down the pen and glances at the wall clock. The hands on the parchment-shaped monstrosity read 1 pm, but his eyes are drawn back to the purple tongue protruding from its massively extended mouth. Seriously, where does Stelle find these items? "An ugly, purple parchment shaped wall clock that looks like it's ready to eat people"— isn't something most people would think to give him, to say the least. But that's the thing—it was Stelle.

She claimed to have found it during one of her "excavations." And even though Miss March 7th did her best to keep her friend from going into further details, stepping on Stelle's toes right in front of him and giving her a sidelong glance, as if he wouldn't notice, he could tell what kind of "excavations" would turn up something like this. Not like he minds the origins of this gift, however. Gifts from friends are few and far to come by, especially ones who actually tolerate him. Not to mention, Stelle likely sincerely believes that it's a cool gift, which is why it has replaced the diamond-embedded wall clock on his wall.

His musings are interrupted by a second knock, which, like the first one, reverberates once around the room before fading away in embarrassment. "Come in." He announces, reclining back in his seat and looking at the door with expectation in his eyes. It was not uncommon for his secretary to appear randomly in his office, constantly fussing over yet another minor issue. He believed it was her; at least, his itinerary showed he didn't have any guest visits today. Maybe it was time to replace assistants—the new hire is clearly not on the same wavelength as him. But he'd only recently had Topaz yell at him for changing staff so frequently; he'd prefer not to tell her that her choice was horribly disappointing just yet.

With a tiny bag bearing a brand he is all too acquainted with, the secretary enters the office. She keeps her gaze fixed on the floor the entire time, hence doesn't notice when her supervisor raises an eyebrow at the sight of his favorite jewelry brand. "Sir," she says in a low, somewhat flat voice, akin to that of a news reporter. "Earlier, a staff of Madam Jade stopped by. You have a present."

A grin appears on Aventurine's face, followed by a joyful chuckle. With how busy work has been lately, he'd almost forgotten when he asked Jade for a pink diamond, as has Jade apparently, seeing how long it's taken for her to send this. His request was a joke, of course, only meant to irritate Topaz. But he wasn't surprised either; Jade always takes good care of her weaponry. "Ahhh, no wonder!" He chirps and presses his palms together. "She must've finally found some generosity in her heart, hm?" He muses, and his assistant can only stand there stoically. He waves her off as she places the bag on his table and departs with an unnecessary low bow, never looking at his eyes once. As always.

When the secretary has left the room, he opens the bag, humming as he removes the box and gift card. Jade's handwriting is distinctive: prim and precise cursive that resembles a font.

"Happy birthday, Aventurine. This jewel would suit you far better than the pink diamond you asked for, don't you think?" — Jade

Kakavasha freezes. His birthday, she says, but she'd need to align the standard calendar system to the Sigonian one to find that out. She sent him a…..��.a gift? For his birthday? 

Is this a fucking joke?

The box reveals a chunk of corundum. Raw, uncut, pink and blue hues all over. Shades way too close to his eyes, and it doesn't take a gemologist to tell that Jade had done her searching thoroughly to obtain this. A jewel the color of his eyes, the color of Avgin eyes, neatly wrapped in a box for….to send ..what sort of message, exactly? Oh Avgin, never forget who you were before I found you—unpolished and undeserving. forget your name, but never your roots.  

The note is crumpled and thrown in the trashcan, while the corundum and its box are hastily and carelessly pushed back into the bag. Really, so typical of Jade, he scoffs as he tosses the godforsaken bag into a random drawer, never to be seen again. 

Kakavasha— no, Aventurine always tries not to remember. He's never synced the Sigonian calendar system to check the date in trailblaze calendar, never makes the mistake of dwelling on the memories surrounding this day— even when he's too drunk to remember his own name. Done everything possible to not acknowledge it; because this day feels like nothing but a curse to him.

Unfortunately, Jade has now ensured that he never gets to forget, again. 

In any case, Aventurine concludes that it is not good for him to worry about this too much. Yes, he can just forget about the corundum. Yes, he is able to forget how it resembled Avgin eyes. Yes, he can also forget that Jade most likely sent this to "keep him in check" following the stunt he did in Penacony. But it was a mistake on his part to not see something coming. She had done this before, and it would not be the last time. He smiles at his own reflection in the bathroom mirror, composed, shrewd, and calculated. Since a mirror has the freedom of choice, it does not return his smile.

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By the time the car comes to a stop in front of his house, Aventurine is exhausted. His chauffeur unlocks the door for him, and he makes his way to the elevator. Yet he's interrupted again— of course, because it's a cursed day, and Aventurine has to restrain himself from scowling at the gateman, who stands in front of him wearing an anxious expression. "Sir, your friend had visited earlier to drop off something."

He raises an eyebrow and is about to inquire when he notices the bag the man is carrying. Without saying anything further, he simply takes the bag. You are the only one who'd own a dumb clockie bag and the only one who'd ever drop things off at his place.

When he steps in, his three catcakes meow loudly to greet him, and feels somewhat grateful for it. Today was just too exhausting, after all. He understands what this is about, based on the fact that you always give him gifts in person. Why, of all days, would you consider dropping it off today? And with no advanced notice- completely unlike you. How annoying, did Jade really have to do this too? He's never disclosed his birthday to you, so you probably coerced her into telling you, and she was glad to oblige, given you are of value to her.

Aventurine doesn't realize he's been standing in the kitchen for a long time until Spade begins massaging its fluffy body on his legs. He is surrounded by his three catcakes, who are all staring up at him expectantly. The message is crystal clear: We Want Food. He moves swiftly to get their food bowls, chuckling to himself before setting your lunchbox on the counter, sort of as an afterthought. At least they'll be able to go to bed well fed tonight. 

After serving them dinner, he leaves the kitchen carrying a bottle of wine, hoping to spend the remainder of the evening crashing on the couch. He can just leave everything else for tomorrow. The benefit of drinking is that it can temporarily impair your ability to sense emotions. He only needs a short term fix, after all. Come tomorrow, he'll take hangover pills, and walk out of this house as Aventurine of the stratagems again— undoubtedly.

He turns on a random B-grade movie, prepared to drink the night away. And he does precisely that—he pushes down thoughts of how his childhood friends, whose features now misty in his memories, would react if they were to see him. With another shot, he pushes down recollections of his mother's cooking—the special meals for the Kakava—and his birthday. Another to accept the now-blurry face of his sister in his memory as the only proof of her existence. Another to forget the clay dolls she'd made for him, on the last birthday kakavasha got to celebrate, that were broken when he had to run for his life. And one more shot, and another, till he's forgotten everything; till he's numb and emotionless.

Feeling empty and hollow is far worse than anything else, and being unable to cry isn't as pleasant as he thought it'd be. But in his lavish home, where gold abounds in every nook and cranny, he has little reason for tears. Money may not be able to buy him happiness, as he is well aware, but it certainly does spare him from ugly tears unfit for his visage. Maybe that's why he hasn't cried in a while, or perhaps he has simply lost his soul somewhere along the way. He stays on the couch till 3 am, accompanied by his pets. He pretends not to see the troubled looks they shoot at him, whispered words passed between them that are clearly about him. By the time he decides to rest for the night, he is fatigued, sluggish, and barely keeping it together.

When he gets up to grab a glass of water from the kitchen, Ace makes a protesting noise before promptly shutting up. Catcakes are smart creatures, and they understand him better than most individuals in his life (or maybe the difference lies in care) His throat is dry, and ice cold water from the freezer provides enormous relief. However, the respite is taken away from him by the crackling lightning, loud as a whip, pulling out memories up to the forefront of his mind again. Of the lightning without the rain, of Sigonia-IV. The drumming of the thunder is largely hidden by the concrete walls, so it isn't as hard on the ear—but it aches a lot more than it did before. Aventurine sneers to himself, dismissing the idea as ludicrous. As if.

The second time the thunder sizzles, Aventurine has to take a sharp breath and grip the countertop to steady himself. It sounds like playing dead in the bleeding streams of Sigonia-IV, like the booming cackle of the mocking thunder. Had he been an insolent child, just a little more doubtful than he already was, he'd believe it was Mama Fenge herself laughing at her so called "blessed child". The thunder sounds similar, but it's not the same. No, because this is still Aventurine and he's still here and those are someone else's memories, forgotten and buried in sand.

Aventurine sighs.

Drinking too much has never done any good to him.

Just as he is ready to leave the kitchen, he notices the lunchbox sitting the counter out of the corner of his eye. Oh, right. He hadn't even touched it. A distraction doesn't seem bad now, though. If he wants to fabricate a plausible lie about eating the food, he would at least need to know what kind of food you sent. If the mental image of your frown after discovering he never even looked at what you sent is what gives him the final push , he would never admit it.

The lunchbox has a plains bear cub logo: you've always been a sucker for cute things. He sets aside the little note attached for later this time, preferring to taste the dinner first. It looks like you chose to make him some kind of soup. Insulated lunchboxes are a blessing— because it's surely been well over half a day since you made it, yet it's still warm. While the presentation is relatively simple, it smells strangely comforting— effect of some potion? He's heard of those, but they're usually used for sick patients, no? Other than that, this is the first homemade meal he's having in a….while. Not that it matters. Aventurine isn't picky, and while the leafy greens are unfamiliar to him, he believes he can handle at least a tablespoon.

Even the largest avalanche can be triggered by the smallest of things. Just one spoonful, and yet it's enough to make his world stop.

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The dry, broken soil scraped against his bare feet, producing little clouds of dust in its wake. His strides were light and rapid, nearly tripping over himself with excitement and giddiness. Just a little more, and he'll reach the finish line. Even the Sun's typical glare felt kind today; warm and tender against his tanned skin. Jumping over the homemade hurdles, he reaches the finish line far ahead of his friends. They protest and pout, and he taunts them with the biggest smile on his face. The soles of his feet feel slightly sore from running barefoot, but Kakavasha wouldn't risk destroying his only pair of shoes for a game. 

When he hears his sister's voice calling for him, he rushes to embrace her and buries his face in her apron. His mother once told him that the Avgins all possess lovely voices, but Kakavasha believes his sister's is the best, especially when she laughs.

"And when will you listen to me and stop running around in the middle of the day, hm?" She pinches his nose and uses her apron to wipe the dirt off his face. Kakavasha beams at her with no regrets, proudly displaying the gap between his teeth. Once kakavasha had said his goodbyes to his friends, they walk hand in hand towards their tent.

There, his mother welcomes them with a warm embrace that smells like creosote bush and desert rain. “My darling," she coos, putting his small hands in her larger ones, rough from labour. "I remember you promised to be on time for lunch last time?" He grins cheekily, vowing not to do it again. (He's a repeat offender, but he knows that his mother and sister can't stay upset at him for long.)

His mother laughs, and tells him to tidy up before eating. Kakavasha's tummy is grumbling by the time he returns, and he finds the mats his sister laid down to sit on. The two siblings sit next to each other, chatting and giggling as they wait for their mother. She serves them a pot of hot soup with nettle leaves and lentils, just the way Kakavasha prefers it. He's overjoyed; quickly finishing his prayers before digging in. Kakavasha is a growing boy, and that's proved again when he finishes his bowl before his family.

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The soup she'd served him back then wasn't anything lavish; just a simple soup with local herbs and nettle leaves in a broth that smelt so uniquely of hers. His mama may have had a knack for cooking, but due to a lack of opportunities and resources, she never got to demonstrate her abilities. Compared to that, your food is much finer, and while excellent, it lacks the warmth of his mother's hands.  

Nevertheless, he can't resist taking another spoonful and quickly putting it in his mouth because the familiarity is so, so palpable. He recalls that his sister wanted him to eat better, so she gave him half of her portion after he finished his. His mother then gave his sister half of her portion, as they are Both growing children. All of a sudden, the bickering, the laughs, and their voices are as plain as day in his mind. He can't fully recall the glitter in his sister's eyes or the dimple on his mother's cheek, but it's clearer than any other memory he had of them, that's for sure. 

Aventurine can't stop crying, even if he wants to. Trying to halt the choking sobbing is fruitless, as is trying to figure out what's going on. He picks up the little message with shaking hands, hoping—praying—that it will help. You'll make it make sense. Somehow.

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“Dear Aventurine, I hope you have a wonderful birthday!!!!”  

Written in thin, flowing, rounded letters that are noticeably cleaner than your actual handwriting. You undoubtedly put a lot of effort into each letter you wrote. Aventurine was correct in assuming you found out his birthday through Jade, as you have written it here. "Buying a gift for you seems…a little perfunctory," you said, "so I've settled with cooking you something myself."

"And if the dish tastes familiar (which I hope it does) then yes, you've guessed it right— it's a traditional Avgin dish."

The perfumed ink is thicker here, a few ink blots from where you've likely paused to think, go over each sentence in your head before writing them down.

You mention finding the Avgin dishes by reading some kind of research paper on Sigonian culture and food, but Aventurine isn't sure he can believe that. You wrote, "I was fortunate enough," yet chance alone wouldn't get you something like that. Sure, maybe some doctoral candidate was crazy enough to choose a dead planet and its deader tribes to write about, but finding that paper would be too difficult. The biggest issue, however, is that Aventurine believes this dish should not and cannot exist. The stinging nettle leaves his mother used are no longer available, and while he didn't know much about cooking at the time, he was aware that all of the spices he knew were almost extinct. He's looked enough to know.

"I'll be honest, I had some trouble locating the ingredients for it and had to swap the majority of them because I couldn't find them. I really wanted to bring back a familiar feeling, even if it tastes very different from how you remember it. Plus, it's the thought that counts, right?"

In contrast to the light-hearted language, your writing is slightly wobbly and darker here, and Aventurine wonders if you realise your emotions seep through every single one of your actions, laid bare for the world to see.

Noting the disappearance of their owner, curious, the catcakes peep into the kitchen are immediately alarmed to see their owner sitting on the counter stool, sobbing and clutching a box. Spade, unsure of what to do, nuzzles it's head on Aventurine's leg, while the others meow in an attempt to calm him down. Aventurine hasn't sobbed in a long time—he can't remember how to anymore. His body shakes with each ragged and broken sob, sounding shattered and damaged, but he can't stop.

"I hope it brings you fond memories" is what you wrote down, but are you aware of the full impact of what you did for him? Most likely not. Aventurine cherishes all of his memories, including the unpleasant ones: as long as it involves his family. His misery knows no bounds, but he's only had a few years with his sister, and even fewer with his mother. So even the saddest memories are never forgotten, so he can preserve as much of them as possible. They live through his memories, after all. 

Even when plain, his mother's meals provided him with more warmth than anything else back then. To feel that warmth decades later is a blessing he can't repay— but a blessing nonetheless. He doesn't have many memories like this one either, gentle and happy, contrary to the endless memories of struggling. He remembers their love so vividly right now, feels it so strongly, alongside yours— that he has no choice but to revel in it.

(Come tomorrow , when he's sober, puffy-eyed from crying and not as vulnerable, he'll have trouble figuring your reasoning. But for now, he'll be fine. Tonight, he'll go to sleep feeling loved. Tonight, his pets will cuddle him to sleep. Tonight, he'll dream of a Sigonia Only he knows.)

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A/N: I'm honestly still so embarrassed about this bc I have an idea but can't execute it like I want to and 🫠🫠 As always, comments and reblogs are really appreciated!! Thank you for reading <3

[creamflix]

choso x reader; no implied reader gender. angst, limited superficial comfort. established relationship. implied (past) choso x yuki. choso is half-human who does not understand social cues, but could be read as gaslighting/manipulation? lol. based on a true incident :pensive: — masterlist here ☆

being with choso was like getting to see the world through brand-new eyes. the way he marveled at even the simplest things — a cup of coffee, a sunset, a song — lit up your life in ways you never expected. he’d sit there, wide-eyed, eager to learn and feel, and you were there for it all, guiding him through the maze of human experience. it felt special, something unique to you both, a bond deepened by moments only you could share.

so when that song came on, the one that was supposed to be yours, it was like a rush of warmth, like another page added to the story you were writing together. the melody swept you up, reminding you of quiet nights, gentle laughter, and whispered promises that you thought belonged only to you and him.

but then, out of nowhere, he smiled, that soft, almost bashful look he always gave you when he was remembering something dear.

“you know, yuki played this for me the first time,” he said, voice light, as if he’d just shared a fond memory.

the words crashed over you, your chest tightening as if the air had been sucked from the room. yuki played this?

the image of her, casual, confident, teaching him the meaning behind this song flashed unbidden in your mind, and suddenly, the song you thought was yours didn’t feel like it anymore.

you tried to keep the smile on your face, the one he loved, the one he looked for whenever he felt unsure. but the hurt simmered under your skin, an ache spreading through you that he couldn’t possibly understand. you swallowed hard, feeling your pulse in your throat.

“yuki introduced you to it?”

choso nodded, oblivious to the turmoil brewing within you, still wearing that innocent smile. “yeah… she thought it suited me.” he chuckled softly, completely unaware of the weight behind your question. “she said it reminded her of family. guess that’s why i thought of you when i heard it again.”

family.

the word rang hollow as it slipped from his mouth, the meaning of it different than it should’ve been. you wanted to feel special to him, to have your own corner of his heart.

but now it felt like you were picking up pieces of memories he’d already formed with someone else.

“oh,” you managed, voice low, trying to sound casual even as the words scraped out. “i thought it… i thought it was our song.”

he tilted his head, brows knitting in that familiar look of confusion. “it is, isn’t it?” he asked, his gaze warm and unassuming. “i mean, it makes me think of you now.”

you forced a smile, but something about his innocence cut even deeper. he didn’t realize what it meant, didn’t understand that he was treading over something you’d thought belonged to just the two of you. to him, it was just a song, another piece of his experience, while to you, it was part of your connection, a bridge between your worlds.

“yeah,” you whispered, more to yourself than to him, “but it’s not… it’s not the same.”

choso blinked, concern flickering in his eyes as he noticed the strain in your voice. “what’s wrong?” he asked, leaning closer, his expression open, worried. “did i… did i say something bad?”

you wanted to say yes, to tell him that this hurt, that it felt like sharing something you could never get back.

but then you saw his face, that wide-eyed sincerity that had always drawn you to him, and you couldn’t bring yourself to lay it all out.

he wouldn’t understand.

how could he? he was trying so hard, learning to open himself up, and here you were, tangled in feelings he couldn’t yet grasp.

“no, it’s…” you forced a laugh, hating the way it sounded hollow, even to your own ears. “it’s fine, choso. i just… i thought it was different.”

he reached for your hand, his grip gentle as his thumb traced comforting circles along your skin. “i only think of you when i hear it now,” he said, earnestly. “doesn’t that make it ours?”

your throat tightened, a bitterness you couldn’t name rising in your chest. he didn’t get it, and maybe he never would.

this wasn’t about a song, not really — it was about feeling like part of him in a way that no one else could touch. but he didn’t understand why it mattered so much, didn’t understand what it was like to feel like an afterthought in someone else’s memories.

you swallowed, brushing your thumb over his hand in return, forcing yourself to smile, to meet his gaze even though it felt like you were cracking.

“yeah,” you lied, trying to smooth out the hurt with words you didn’t quite believe, “i guess that makes it ours.”

but as the song continued, filling the silence between you, it didn’t feel like it was yours at all. instead, it felt like something you’d borrowed, a memory that didn’t truly belong to you.

and as you sat there, feeling the weight of everything left unsaid, you realized this wound wasn’t one he could ever heal.

produced by creamflix on tumblr. all rights reserved. do not copy, steal, modify, repost — support your writers by liking and reblogging. ♡ banners by cafekitsune

[inawickedlittletown]

One Year - BuckTommy - 8x06 fix it

Summary: This is my fix-it because I for one can't take that break up being the end. So, it takes a while, but they belong together. Words: 6k Read on Ao3

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The first time he saw Evan again, it was from afar. It had been a couple of weeks. They were at the same call, Tommy somehow winding up on the ground. He spotted Evan walking next to Eddie with Howie and Hen just ahead of them, heard their voices despite how loud everything was. He kept his distance, and only once ran into someone from the 118. Ravi, who gave him a smile and nod. 

The next time, it was at one of the badge and ladder bars. Lucy had forced him to go. Had she not been holding his arm, he would have turned and fled. Instead he saw Evan throw back a shot and then walk over to some guy whose physique told Tommy he had to be a firefighter. He saw as Evan said something that made the other guy laugh and then they were getting drinks together and…and Lucy took him out the door while he tried to catch a breath. 

Tommy wasn’t new to a break up…it was just that this one was hitting harder than any before. 

Before Evan, there had been three boyfriends. Before and in between were hookups and one-night stands and even some friends with benefits that popped in and out of his life. He’d come out when he was in his early thirties, around the same age as Evan. Of course, for Tommy it had been different. He’d been hiding it from everyone and even from himself. 

In the army, he and some other guys had had a bit of fun. Masturbating together and pretending it was all fine and heterosexual because they weren’t touching each other. He’d exchanged one or two blowjobs here or there like an exchange of favors with guys that had girlfriends waiting for them back home. He lied and told them he had a girl too. Pretended he didn’t like giving as much as he liked receiving. 

Things were much the same when he was at the 118, except that pretending he had a girlfriend was harder. He even tried to date women. Abby…he’d met Abby when the 118 went to a call about her mother. She’d almost burnt down her whole house by forgetting to turn off a stove and looking back that had definitely been an early sign of her dementia. Abby was nice and Tommy couldn’t deny that he got along with her and it helped that she understood how busy his job kept him and what his hours were like. 

Dating Abby was the first time he felt like maybe he could do it. Marry the girl. Have some kids. Lie to himself and the world forever. As unfair as it was to Abby, it just…Tommy could tell that it might work. It was why they got engaged. It was why he was so sure about getting married but then there were guys he met on calls or that he checked out from time to time and he didn’t think he would ever be able to put that away. Instead, he would wind up cheating on Abby and making the hurt worse. So, he broke it off and felt horrible when he realized that Abby had gotten the blow of her mom’s dementia diagnosis.

After Abby, Tommy went a little wild. He slept around. Found out more about himself. Knew that he could never do what he did to Abby to any other woman. He heard at some point about Abby taking up with a younger guy. In what universe could Tommy have expected that years later he would date the same guy. 

One night, he ran into Karen at a Target of all places. Tommy was there to pick up detergent and he was just deciding between brand name or the store brand and also trying his hardest to not buy the brand he knew that Evan used, when a cart bumped into his. 

“I’m so sorry,” Karen said. 

He looked up slowly. 

“Tommy,” Karen said warmly. “Hi.” 

Behind her came Denny and Mara. Mara he’d only met a handful of times and he knew her to be a little shy. Denny smiled at him. 

“Hi, Tommy.”

“Oh. Hi,” Tommy said. “You got your cast off.” 

Denny nodded. “A little while ago.” 

He remembered sitting in that hospital waiting room and how he’d tagged along to Denny’s room and hadn’t expected that Denny would want him to sign his cast seeing as he was all but a stranger, but Denny did offer him the marker and Tommy did sign.

Despite wanting to, he didn’t ask about Evan. He hardly managed to ask about Hen. 

“She’s good,” Karen said and then, “hey, listen, you don’t have to be a stranger.” 

He offered her a tight smile. 

“I’m serious. Hey, how about dinner soon?”

He shrugged and Karen insisted, pulling out her phone and throwing dates at him until he agreed. 

Before she left, Karen grabbed his arm. “I don’t know what happened, no one really does, Hen says he doesn’t want to talk about it. You don’t have to talk about it, if you don’t want to, but that doesn’t mean you’re not our friend still, Alright? That doesn’t just go for Hen and I, either.” 

Eddie had reached out the day after. The day after that too. And the one after that one. Then it was weekly. Then it was bi-weekly. Then came a final message. A voicemail. Tommy almost didn’t listen to it. 

“Hey, man,” Eddie said. “I guess you decided to cut all ties. I get it. Kind of. And look, Buck is my friend, but you are too and I don’t drop my friends. I know you’re hurting too, so don’t be afraid to reach out. I’m here for whenever you’re ready.” 

Tommy never called him. He thought about it. Almost texted him several times. He missed Eddie. 

He missed their easy friendship and the way that Eddie had welcomed him so wholly. He just couldn’t face him because Eddie would give it all away about how Evan was doing and Tommy wouldn’t be able to keep his own feelings in. It would burst out and then Eddie would know just how horrible Tommy really felt and how regretful too. 

He did regret it. 

He hated himself. 

Tommy went to dinner with Hen and Karen. It was good. Fun, even. Neither of them asked and Tommy didn’t offer any information. Instead, he got to hear about Mara’s adoption going through finally and about how Maddie was pregnant and doing really well. He tried not to think about Evan becoming an uncle for the second time and how excited he had to be over it. They exchanged Lucy stories and then stories from way back when Tommy was in the 118. Tommy promised they would do dinner again. 

The next time he ran into Evan, it had been more time than they had even been together. Tommy shouldn’t still be mourning the end of the relationship and yet…of course he was. Of course he still missed Evan desperately. So much for waylaying a heartbreak, there hadn’t been stopping that apparently and seeing Evan was like having someone reach right into his chest and squeeze. 

The first guy that he ever called boyfriend was a guy named Ivan. Ivan was a little older…okay, much older, and Tommy thought he was in love. Figured that was it and that he and Ivan could be forever. When Ivan broke it off because he met someone else, Tommy was devastated. 

“Tommy, I’m your first boyfriend, of course this wasn’t going to last. I always thought we were on the same page and that this was a bit of fun.” 

A month or so later, Tommy realized that Ivan was right. He wasn’t torn up and he hadn’t been in love as much as wanting the security of the relationship because it meant he didn’t need to keep looking for love. He’d gotten comfortable with Ivan, but what they hadn’t wasn’t something that would last no matter how much Tommy had thought it was what he wanted. 

The second guy came a year or so later. Paul was younger and Tommy met him while they were on a call. When Paul came by with muffins a few days later they got talking and Paul admitted that he was nervous but he’d wanted to see Tommy again. They had a few dates and then Tommy was rushing in with Paul. They spent every moment together and then moved in together too. 

When they broke up right before their one year anniversary, it was because Paul admitted that he never thought his first real relationship with a guy could be his last and that he had more options to explore. 

“Tommy, you were amazing. You will always be so important to me, but I’m not in love with you.” 

Somehow, that still hurt less than Evan and Tommy only had himself to blame for that. 

He saw Evan at a farmer’s market. He was with Jee-Yun who skipped ahead of him laughing. Evan was smiling after her. Tommy didn’t mean to follow, but he did keep his distance. Saw Evan buy a few things and smile at the girl that sold them to him, saw him stop at a stand selling apple cider, the man behind the counter blond and tall and bulky. Hot. His eyes were hazel and he was smiling at Evan and ignoring anyone else that approached. Evan was smiling back and doing that thing where he ducked his head bashfully before looking up through his eyelashes. Tommy’s heart ached. 

Tommy walked away from that. He turned and he walked until he was back at his car and then he sat there in his truck and let his mind wander because what if Evan asked that guy out? Or the girl? What if one of them wasn’t dumb like Tommy and stuck around and refused to let Evan go. What if Tommy never got a chance to…but he’d already blown his chance with Evan and he doubted there would ever be another. 

When he got to his shift later, Lucy took one look at him.

“Hey, you okay?” 

“I don’t think I’ve been okay for months.” 

Lucy hugged him. “Are you ever going to tell me what happened?” she asked. 

He shook his head. 

It was hard to even admit to himself how much he’d screwed up and how much he’d allowed his fear to color how he faced Evan wanting more than what they already had. He’d been unprepared when Evan brought it up and then it had been the Abby of it all and the way that Tommy knew he couldn’t expect for Evan to settle for him. That just wasn’t how it worked. He was the first, but not the last. Tommy just wasn’t good enough to be Evan’s last and it was something that Evan would figure out sooner or later. So why wait for their whole lives to get even more entwined and for everything to be so much harder when it all fell apart. 

One night, when Lucy showed up at his house to hang out, she had tried to bad-talk Evan as if that would help. It was the night she dropped information that Tommy hadn’t known and wasn’t it wild how much he and Evan had inadvertently not shared. Six months and they hadn’t talked about anything at all, apparently. 

Lucy and Evan had kissed once while drunk at a bar. 

The jealousy that hit him was…Tommy wasn’t usually a jealous guy and yet the very idea made him cringe and maybe he downed two shots back to back. 

“I kissed him,” Lucy said. “He didn’t push me away and I had no idea that he had a girlfriend at the time.”

It didn’t make him think badly of Evan, not the way that Lucy maybe intended. It just…it made Tommy wonder about how it would have gone if he was right. Would Evan have cheated on him once he realized he wanted more than what Tommy was willing to offer. But no…no, that wasn’t Evan was it? No, Evan would have stuck it out even when he got miserable and didn’t want to anymore and then Tommy would have had to say something and end it. 

“What happened after that?” Tommy had asked. 

“Between me and Buck? Nothing. I’m just saying, he isn’t this perfect guy either.”

As if Tommy didn’t know that, as if Tommy hadn’t seen exactly who Evan was from the get go. He was a mess, he was jealous, impulsive, he believed in curses, got pouty when he didn’t get his way. Evan was far from perfect, but Tommy had loved him because of it. He saw how much of the bad was still good or maybe not even bad at all. 

Lucy did leave him thinking about how they had never discussed exes until Abby and how maybe they should have. He wondered if Evan would have even brought up the Lucy of it all. He wondered how he would have taken Tommy’s own exes…Ivan and Paul and…and Henry. 

Henry was the last boyfriend before Evan. Gorgeous Henry who began as a friend and then started to get a bit flirty and who kissed Tommy for the first time at a New Years Eve party and then freaked out because Tommy was a guy. 

Weeks of not talking and Tommy not being able to stop thinking about him to an obsessive degree. How on Valentine’s day, he was surprised when red roses and chocolate was delivered to Harbor from Henry to Tommy and a simple note asking him out. He’d gotten so much shit for that, but Tommy had secretly loved it. The romance of it all, the sweetness. Henry had been so sweet. 

Henry who told Tommy that he was sorry but he had no idea guys were an option for him and how he couldn’t deny how much he wanted Tommy. They had long conversations about it and Tommy took it so slow that they didn’t even have sex for the first two months. 

Tommy didn’t realize that their feelings were different. Tommy had been crushing on Henry even before the kiss and then he had him. Henry had been mystified by Tommy and his attraction to him, but it wasn’t long before his eyes started to wander. Tommy had bought his house right before they started dating and when Henry’s roommate situation got a bit difficult he welcomed him right in. It had felt like the start of the rest of their lives. That had been a mistake. 

Tommy had been so blind. Looking back, the red flags had been evident. He’d been blinded by love and friendship and daydreams about a future he thought was within his grasp. Then, one night, when he managed to sprain an ankle, Tommy was first taken to the hospital and then sent home a whole thirteen hours earlier than expected. Henry hadn’t answered his calls, so Tommy got back home on his own. He found Henry in bed with a woman. 

The last time he saw Henry, it was when Henry picked up the last of his things and when Henry made his apologies and excuses it felt like Ivan and Paul before him. 

Tommy was never enough. Not enough. Always the placeholder for something or someone better. 

“Why not just break up with me?” Tommy remembered asking. 

“I didn’t know how. You were so…I’m sorry, Tommy. I guess I’m not done trying to figure out what I want.” 

The one thing Henry had figured out was that Tommy was not what he wanted. 

He did cry after Henry and then he threw himself into work and downloaded an app or two and didn’t try to date seriously. He had friends to call on lonely nights and then he could hit up a bar and find someone that way. Tommy had all but convinced him that it was all he’d ever have, until he met a firefighter with a cute birthmark who Tommy kissed without having planned to and who he almost wrote off after the first date and was so glad he didn’t. Breaking up with Evan was hitting harder than anyone that came before. 

Evan was different. He had burrowed deep in his heart and there was no getting him out. Tommy didn’t think he wanted him out. 

A few weeks later, he saw Eddie at the mall and with him was Christopher. He looked taller than the last time Tommy had seen him, and he was in LA. Eddie looked happy. Of course, he was happy. Tommy hated that he didn’t know when Chris had returned or how Eddie had won him over again. 

“Tommy,” Eddie said. 

“Tommy,” Christopher said. 

Had it been just Eddie, Tommy might have ignored them. Instead, he turned around. 

“Hi,” he said. 

“Hey,” Eddie said with a smile. 

“Hi, Tommy,” Christopher said. 

“Hey, kid, nice to see you back in LA.” 

Chris gave him a rundown of his time in Texas. He talked about the friends he made and his cousins and grandparents, but how Eddie had gone to see him and then Chris decided to come back with him. 

It was nice to talk to Chris and then to follow Eddie and Chris into one of the stores. Chris got distracted then, and Eddie turned to Tommy. 

“How are you really?” 

“It’s been months,” Tommy said. 

“I know. You never called me back. You should have,” Eddie said. 

“I couldn’t,” Tommy said. “You’re…how is he, Eddie?” 

Eddie took in a breath. “Look, I don’t think I should answer that. Buck is coping. He’s doing…what did he call it, he’s exploring. Apparently, it’s what you told him he needed to do.” Eddie’s look was pointed. Full of judgment. 

Tommy had to look away, he had to hope that his eyes wouldn’t fill up with tears. That night, right after he left Evan’s place, Tommy didn’t even remember how he got home. He did remember that he’d gone for his usual comforts. A shot of whiskey, a case of beer, and he’d tried to watch a movie and failed miserably. Hadn’t been able to watch romantic comedies since. Documentaries were out too. 

“Dad,” Christopher called. 

“I — I’ll leave you to it,” Tommy said. 

Eddie grabbed his shoulder. “Wait. No. Just…let’s hang out. You can come over or I can come over. We could sparr or get a drink. We’re still friends, Tommy. I’m serious.” 

“Okay.” 

Eddie called him that night and Tommy couldn’t say no to having Eddie come over to his place. They didn’t talk about Evan the whole time, not until Eddie was getting ready to leave. 

“I want to say something because I’m your friend and Buck’s friend. What you did was really stupid and I never thought you were stupid. If this was the way you always saw it going, why did you waste his time? Why did you let him fall for you? And I know you hurt yourself too, Tommy, I can see it all over you. So why? Just…answer that.” 

Eddie didn’t even let him reply before he left. 

Why did Tommy do that? Because even a minute of knowing Evan was worth it. Ending it early was just…he’d expected it to help because he had control and he was making the call and then he wouldn’t be devastated. It was a little late for it, apparently, at least on his end. 

“He’s exploring,” he said out loud. Eddie’s words. 

What had Tommy expected. God, he really was an idiot. 

A week later he was at a call that the 118 was present for as well. He tried to stay well clear of them, but he couldn’t help but look for Evan. It was like being a moth drawn to light and of course Evan was his light. 

He’d overheard Lucy and Melton talking on his first shift after his talk with Eddie and Melton had said everyone had a regret in love, that everyone had someone they let go of or who let them go that always left what ifs. Evan wasn’t a regret, Tommy would never regret him. What he regretted was that Tommy had allowed fear and his own baggage to cloud things and destroy what he and Evan had. 

Of course, a part of him did still wonder if he had been right. Every relationship came with risk, and Evan having just realized he was into men as much as women, it wasn’t farfetched to think that one day he might think that he’d settled into something with Tommy far too quickly without really knowing for sure it was what he wanted. Evan hadn’t denied that either, he hadn’t tried to stop Tommy leaving. He hadn’t reached out. He hadn’t even asked for any of his things back — granted neither had Tommy. 

Tommy had everything that Evan had ever left as his house in the drawer that had been Evan’s. Or hanging on his coat rack. In his bathroom. In his kitchen. He hadn’t had the heart to remove any of it and sometimes when he was really tired or when he’d hit the booze a little hard with Lucy, he could even convince himself that it was there waiting for Evan. 

The call rang long, the fire blazing for a while and worse people stuck inside on the higher floors. Tommy was helping on the ground on a hose, he knew the 118 was helping with evacuation along with the 133 and somehow they did manage to get everyone out and they did manage to get the flames put out. Tommy wouldn’t admit it, but he spent most of the call with his heart in his throat hoping that Evan stayed safe and that nothing went wrong. 

They were just getting back to the truck when he saw Evan a little soot covered, but smiling. He was talking to a reporter. Red hair, pale skin, skinny and pretty. He kept talking to her even after the camera man brought the camera down. 

“That’s Taylor Kelly,” Lucy said and she pushed him to keep moving. 

Taylor Kelly the reporter. Taylor Kelly who was Evan’s ex. Taylor who Evan had cheated on with Lucy. When he turned back to look once more they were no longer talking. 

“I don’t get why you haven’t reached out to him,” Lucy said. 

“He’s a coward,” Melton said. 

“It’s been how many months now and you’re not over him. Do you want me to find out if he’s seeing anyone? Maybe you still have a shot. We’ve never seen you like this before and at first it was I guess normal. Now it’s a bit depressing. What happened, Tommy?” 

“What happened is Melton is right and I am a coward,” Tommy said and then he climbed into the truck and looked away from them, glad when they didn’t talk to him the whole way back to Harbor. 

He heard about Maddie giving birth from Hen. It was a passing comment one night when he went over for dinner and Tommy found himself mourning that he hadn’t been there for Evan through all of it, especially because as Karen told it, Maddie had had a hard labor. 

He was shown pictures from Hen’s phone. The baby was tiny and already had a tuft of dark hair. He scrolled through pictures and then there he was. Evan holding the baby in his arms, the baby looking even smaller tucked right into the crook of Evan’s elbow and Evan smiling down with so much awe and love. It hurt to look at him, but Tommy couldn’t stop. 

So maybe there had been times when Tommy allowed himself to think about a future where he and Evan stayed together, one where they were married and decided they should be parents too. He’d seen Evan around kids too often, knew Evan would want to be a dad. Tommy had never longed for that or anything, but with Evan he would have wanted it. That was all gone now. 

“Oh,” Karen said. “Sorry. I forgot…”

Tommy forced himself to flip to the next picture. Another shot of Evan, this time he was looking up with the bluest glassiest eyes. He missed him. He missed him so damn much and it wasn’t fair how much. 

“Tommy,” Karen said. “Hey, are you alright?” 

“I miss him,” Tommy said. 

“I’m pretty sure he misses you too,” Hen said. “Do you want to talk about it?” 

“Do you have anything stronger?” 

Hen didn’t mince words. She told him point blank about how after the break up, Evan had tried to act like he was alright. Then, he’d just started to do anything he could in order to keep busy. 

“He started baking,” Hen said. “Then he started doing yoga. He started rock climbing. I think he even took an art class. Anyway, it was hard to watch but I guess it was better than if he sat at home wallowing.” 

“Like I did,” Tommy said. 

Karen grasped his wrist. “You were both hurting. What happened, Tommy?” 

“He asked me to move in and I said no.” 

“And you broke up over that?” Hen asked, surprised. 

Tommy shook his head. “No. Yes. In what world was this going to last? He only just discovered he likes men and yeah it was going well but it wasn’t forever. If we moved in together, it was going to be so much harder when we broke up.” 

“That’s…that’s bullshit, Tommy,” Hen said. “So, you broke his heart and yours so it wouldn’t happen later on.” 

“I didn’t break his—”

“You did,” Karen said. 

“Well shouldn’t he get a chance to explore what his sexuality means? Shouldn’t he get to figure that out instead of settling for the first guy he dates?” 

“And what if he wasn’t settling?” 

That kept him up all of that night. He still remembered how the conversation had gone. Evan had brought up the Abby thing and Tommy had felt put on the spot because it was the last thing he expected and then Evan had started to explain about Abby being an important relationship to him and how Tommy was just as important, the most important since, and all at once Tommy’s fears and insecurities had rushed forward because Evan and Abby hadn’t made it and now that Tommy was this gay mentor or whatever of course it wouldn’t last either. He tried to explain that to Hen and Karen and they both looked at him like he was the one that didn’t get it. 

“You need to talk to him,” Hen said. “For both your sakes.” 

“I don’t know if I can,” Tommy admitted. 

Exactly a year after it happened, he saw Evan again. 

Tommy had gone out to a gay bar because he couldn’t stay home and wallow. Lucy had also told him that he needed to put himself out there again. That if he wasn’t going to talk to Evan, then he needed to talk to someone that might give him a reason to move on. He really didn’t want to, but at the same time his right hand was getting tired and maybe some release of a carnal nature was what Tommy needed. No one had said it, but they had all kind of implied that Evan had at least gotten out there. 

He and Evan had gone to that bar once, gotten a drink and then danced a little before calling it a night and heading back to Evan’s, both of them eager to get up to Evan’s bedroom. He remembered seeing more than a few eyes looking at Evan with interest and how it had made something inside him churn because Tommy had known that if Evan was on the market again he wouldn’t have a hard time finding someone that was interested in him. 

Finding himself a free spot at the bar, Tommy ordered a beer and he tried not to think about the first few times that Tommy had gone into a gay bar and how nervous he’d been to actually put himself out there like that. 

“Hi, handsome,” a male voice said before Tommy had even gotten his beer. 

Tommy turned. “Hello.” 

The guy had floppy hair. He was lanky and thin, could probably be called a twink. He was also way too young for Tommy, probably not even in his mid-twenties. 

“So,” the twink said, hand reaching to touch Tommy’s chest right where the V of his shirt ended. “Want to have some fun?” He wiggled his eyebrows and licked his lips and his hand climbed to Tommy’s neck. 

“Sorry,” Tommy said. “That’s not why I’m here.” 

“Boo,” the guy said, hand dropping away, “So why are you here?” 

“A drink,” Tommy said decisively because he knew that even if someone age appropriate were to approach him, he wouldn’t have been interested. They weren’t Evan. 

“Oh, well. It was worth trying. Though, I don’t usually get turned down twice in one night.” 

“What’s your name?” Tommy asked. 

“Owen.” 

“Well, Owen, it looks to me like there are plenty of fishes in the sea. Third time might be the charm. To be honest, you’re way too young for me and I’m still…I’m hung up on my ex.” 

Owen took a look around, but he turned back to Tommy. “Bad break up? Did he break your heart?” 

“More like I broke his and mine. Such an idiot.” 

“But, hey, you’re still hot. I could help you forget for a few hours.” 

Tommy laughed. 

Owen grinned. “Not ready for that. Must have been quite the guy.” 

“Yeah.” 

Owen wandered off and Tommy watched him strike up a conversation with another guy, someone a little closer to his age. They seemed to hit it off and next time he saw them they were out getting lost in the crowd of bodies on the dance floor. 

Tommy finished his beer and was about to order another when he heard a familiar voice. Down the bar he found Evan. He was turned away from Tommy looking to one of the tables where a man was waving. Tommy couldn’t watch this. He couldn’t see Evan flirt with someone else. He couldn’t see Evan go home with that guy. He couldn’t look away. 

Evan said something to the girl behind the bar and…wait, did he not accept the drink? Then, he saw Evan put some money down right before finishing his beer and moving to leave. 

Tommy did the same and he followed. 

Evan made it out the door just ahead of him and Tommy had to get around several people, but eventually he made it to the door and then out. Evan was just outside, arms crossed over his chest, waiting. 

“Tommy,” he said. 

His voice, the sound of his name, Tommy felt it all down to his bones. 

“Hi, Evan,” he said and he knew his voice broke on Evan’s name. 

“It’s been a year,” Evan said. 

The door opened behind Tommy and Tommy had to step out of the way, his eyes never leaving Evan because maybe Evan would disappear. 

“I know,” Tommy said. 

“It’s felt like longer,” Evan said. 

“I know.” 

“I miss you,” Evan said. 

“I miss you too.” 

Evan was quiet for a beat and then, “then, why?” 

It was high time he stopped being a coward, high time that he stopped getting in his own way or letting the past intrude on his present. 

“Because I’m the biggest idiot,” Tommy said.

Evan snorted. “You’re not wrong.” 

The door opened again bringing with it a wave of music. It was Owen, arms linked with the guy he’d been dancing with. He looked between them and laughed, shaking his head as he walked past them. 

“Maybe we should take this conversation elsewhere,” Tommy suggested. 

Tommy’s house was closer. It felt better than going to Evan’s loft, not that it stopped Tommy from remembering how it had all gone. How he’d let the door close behind him and he’d just thought that it was the right call. 

Evan followed him inside. 

“You know, it was so dumb of me to ask you to move in when you’re the one that owns his own place,” Evan said. “I was just…overcorrecting. Rushing. Trying to show you how much I wanted us to have a future.”

“And I got scared,” Tommy said and led Evan to the living room. “I was dumb too. I should never have broken up with you but, Evan, the way you were talking about Abby and me, it was like of course I was just here to be your next transformative relationship. The next thing that prepared you for…for whoever came next.”

Transformative. That word had stuck around for him, he realized. The comparison Evan had made about his relationship with Abby to their relationship. He and Evan sat down.

“Tommy, I’m—”

Tommy stood. “I’ll go get us some water.” 

He didn’t wait for Evan to respond. As soon as he was out of the room he took a few breaths. What were they doing here? What were either of them hoping to accomplish? Did Evan want to get back together? Was that…was that the right move? 

Twelve months. It had been double the amount of time that their relationship had lasted and Tommy ached for Evan. He longed for him. He still hadn’t gotten rid of any of the things that reminded him of Evan or the things that belonged to Evan either. Hell, he hadn’t even let anyone take over or make their own mark. 

“Tommy?” Evan called you. “Do you want me to come to the kitchen?” 

“I’ll be right back.” 

He grabbed and filled glasses. 

Evan had started pacing the floor. He looked distraught. Tommy wanted to grab his hands and hug him, instead he set down the water. 

“We never talked about our exes,” Tommy said. 

Evan’s gaze snapped towards him. “No, I guess we didn’t.”

“Come, sit,” Tommy said and motioned to the couch. “Evan, I think I let my past decide my future and clearly I was wrong and this last year has been miserable. I’ve missed you every day and I thought walking away was the right thing for you, but it was definitely the wrong thing for me and I just—”

He didn’t expect Evan to kiss him, but that’s what Evan did. It didn’t last long and Tommy wanted to pull him right into another kiss because it had been a year since the last time he kissed him — the last time he’d kissed anybody. 

“Evan,” he said. 

“I learned a year and a half ago that was one way of getting someone’s attention,” Evan said. “I’ve been miserable too. I hated this last year and I missed you and as much as I wanted to hate you I just love you too much.” 

Then, they were kissing again and Tommy was pressed back against his couch, Evan practically crawling into his lap. His arms were around Evan again and he really hadn’t thought that he would ever have this again, but Evan was there and he smelled amazing and he felt amazing and their lips slotted together perfectly. 

Tommy didn’t even realize he was crying until Evan pulled back and his hands were brushing away his tears and then kissing his cheeks. His nose. 

“I love you,” Evan said. “I’m in love with you.” 

His heart was soaring and he reached to cup Evan’s cheeks. “Good, because I love you too.” 

Evan smiled wide at him, pecked his lips and then just hugged him. Held him. Tommy held him back. 

“We’ll have to talk about it,” Tommy said. “I want to explain. I want—”

“Later,” Evan said. “Right now, I just want…I want to bask in this. In us.” 

[leresq]

Finally watched Deadpool and Wolverine. First of all I was not coming into this with high hopes because even though everyone was talking about how good this movie is I've never found the Deadpool movies funny. To me they're just different variations of "You haven't seen this in an Iron Man movie" stretched into two now three feature length films. But honestly I liked it at the end.

- Why are Logan's ears and one of his eyes not decayed when no other part of his body is intact? Why does he have a beard on his jawbone?

- I'll bite, the Bye Bye Bye is a fun idea. The wintery forest setting is cool.

- I can't enjoy that opening fight scene because it's not how anything works. You don't get bludgeoned with a dull object, have your body armour completely give way, and have a pint of blood splash out. I understand the whole point of Deadpool is that it's over the top, but this is just so overly gratuitous it's insane. I feel like Marvel Studios felt like they had to make it so unrealistically violent to try and separate it from the mainline MCU to get the people who have Deadpool funko pops to guffaw in the theatre. It's "You haven't seen this in an Iron Man movie" with zero words spoken. Honestly incredible.

- The CGI is better than it's been recently but it's still noticeably bad

- Peter Parker's Iron Man mask is on the desk in the background! How did that even get there.

- Why is Tony's ARC reactor on the table, I thought that was pushed into the river at the funeral

- The timeline is just so incredibly fucked. I still don't understand how the X Men timeline reboot works, or how Logan fits into it; if Logan dying means Deadpool's universe collapses, that implies the Logan movie is in the X Men reboot franchise, but Patrick Stewart is in that and James McAvoy plays him in the reboot making me think it's a one off... Augh my head...

- Something looks up with John Favraeu. I don't know if his wearing a wig is supposed to be obvious, I don't know if he's just under a lot of makeup or it's CGI, it's just weird.

- Deadpool is never going to be an Avenger because Marvel Studios would rather execute everyone working for them than give up the licencing deals from making PG13 movies, and Deadpool wouldn't feel the same in a PG13 movie.

- I think any brand would let Ryan Reynolds walk all over them in muddy boots, for some reason he gets the pass to slander anyone he wants to and he gets paid by the companies to do it.

- 'I don't have a lot of v*ginal sex' 🤨 that has numerous connotations. Also can we not do sex jokes in front of 12 year olds

- I was not expecting a Deadpool movie to contain any hints of character development because the previous two instalments seemed to be hellbent on making sure I understood nothing of emotional value would ever be allowed to appear without being undercut by a sex joke.

- "I've never been a natural bottom" 🤨🤨 I thought Poolverine was just the average two male leads naturally gets shipped together thing but no they're sowing the fields

- If that Thor crying over Deadpool never comes back I will say something about it

- If they didn't want me to know Paradox was going to be a villain why would they make him British

- The 'Suck it Fox' cut to nothing being there is the only time I will accept something raising more questions than answering them at this level as funny

- "Your tailor is a predator" caught me so off guard I started coughing

- Wow I wasn't expecting them to pull the Paradox is actually evil card not even a third into the movie. Honestly a good subversion of expectations.

- How is Deadpool's universe going to evaporate in 74 hours, I thought time doesn't exist at the TVA?

- Are they going to explain why Deadpool's suit can just fix itself now. It used to keep its holes.

- Finally, I think the first time we ever hear Deadpool is from Canada in the movies! I wonder if Ryan Reynolds only wanted to play him in the first place because they're both Canadian...

- "You two gonna fuck or fight?" 🤨🤨🤨

- I actually understood the Honey Badger reference

- the FF floating platform thingy is another reference I'm surprised I got

- The Human Torch CGI is actually really cool

- "Not all of you was asleep" after waking up on his shoulder 🤨🤨🤨🤨

- Too many cameos in Cassandra's little alcove so I'm not even going to bother looking for them all

- I'm not sure if Johnny Storm's death was supposed to be played for laughs or just shock value, either way I'm not laughing I loved those movies ;(

- How does Cassandra know she's Xavier's sister if she was sent to the Void before she could walk?

- Wolvie being nice to Johnny post mortem is cool

- Nicepool having a stronger Canadian accent is a good joke, and Deadpool looking on in disgust as Nicepool talks about his dog's 'G-spot' is good. At least that's not played off as just a normal thing to say even if it is a joke

- "I identify as a feminist" could easily be misconstrued as an 'anti-woke' joke but all of the jokes of a similar calibre in this movie seem to be made ironically. Example: Nicepool is a creep

- "Where's your mask" and Nicepool points to his face actually implying his nice guy attitude is a facade for being a shitty person is actually really good

- Why is Nicepool's car surrounded by untrampled corn, how did it get there? Who grew the corn?

- Deadpool includes Colossus in his world 🥺

- Wolverine is nothing if not an excellent shit talker, and it's actually very out of character for Deadpool to actually get affected by insults

- I wish The Greatest Showman soundtrack was incorporated for more than just a third of a second

- 'Close up magic' ant man reference?

- 'There's only ever gonna be one Blade' about that...

- I think that's Apocalypse's throne in Cassandra's room? Or Thanos's

- I never thought about how both Cassandra and Xavier's powers radiate from their heads until the Juggernaut helmet scene

- Finally some real actual genuine character development that's not thrown away for a joke!!! The best part of the movie to me was Cassandra's redemptio-. Oh. Nevermind. Anyway I like it better than if it were just shoved away for a joke then she died

- Deadpool waiting for the 'extras' to clear was, to me, a good indication that he's a hero now. Caring about civilians is #1 on my makes you a good guy requirements

- "You smell something?" "Yeah you" 🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨

- And there it is. Nicepool's death is probably the most predictable death I've ever seen on film.

- Eastside Pharmacy?! Agatha All Along reference???

- Wolverine's helmet looks like a rubber playground ball

- Will Marvel Jesus come back in three days however?

- Staring at Hugh's abs? Same, but 🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨

- That hand holding ending was actually impressive, I wasn't sure what was going to happen and it actually kicked ass

- Is the guy with the mug who stared at Deadpool in the beginning Marvel's first gay character

- The introducing Logan to Blind Al is so unbelievably 'the parents meeting the boyfriend' I could die there's no fucking way that wasn't on purpose

[the-universal-sun]

owww, can we get Little Ford crying about Stan too? Could be pre portal or post weirdmaggedon guilt!

(if you want to ofc)

Sorry this one is so short! My minds been places today, but I wanted to work through my ask box. Sorry everyone for taking so long, by the way! It’s just been a long couple of weeks!

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

“Space Junk is any Human-made object orbiting Earth that no longer serves a useful purpose…” Ford read aloud to Dr. Mittens from his “Fun Fact About Space!” book that Stan gave him earlier. He doesn’t know if his brother stole it or paid for it, but he didn’t really care, he likes the book either way, and Dr. Mittens did, too. He turned the page, starting to read about comet make up, when Stan walked in with lunch. Ford immediately perked up with a big smile as Stan put down his plate. Stan always knows how to make lunch that he’ll eat, this one was an extra crispy grilled cheese, cut into squares, he doesn’t like triangle sandwiches, not anymore.

“Thank you, Buddy,” Ford says, nodding Dr. Mittens’ head along with his words, setting his book down, he doesn’t want his soon-to-be greasy fingers to mess up the pages.

“You’re welcome, Buddy, thanks for using your manners.” Stan says, tweaking Ford’s glasses with his usual slight smirk. Stan’s dressed super casually today, just a new tank top and his boxers, staying cool in this hot summer. Ford’s still wearing a turtle neck, just thinner than his usual one, the heat even getting to him on some level.

Stan turned around and Ford saw it. That mark on Stan’s shoulder. The burn. The Brand. The brand that he did, that he pushed his brother into all those years ago. There on his shoulder was the evidence that Ford hurt him, hurt his Buddy, his Stan. Ford’s breath hitches, loud enough he guesses for Stan to look at him. He can’t read the look his brothers face, but he thinks he might be worried. But how could he be worried when Ford was worried!? He frantically pats the space next to him-after moving Dr. Mittens to the table-motioning for Stan to sit down.

“Poindexter, are you alright, there? You-ah- just kind of stopped. Was it the grilled cheese? Did I mess it up? Man, I’m sor-Whoa!” He barely listened to Stan, pushing his shoulder until he had a clear vision of the burn in his shoulder. It looks so bad, so dark. He did that. He feels feels his eyes prick with wet hot tears, he’s such a bad brother. He’s supposed to be a big brother, but here he is, reading childrens book books to a stuffed animal! He feels his chest feels tight, his throat feels dry and all he wants right now is curl up in Stan’s arms and listen to Bill Nye! But how can he do that, knowing how badly he’s hurt his brother!

Ford can feel his chest stutter in-in-in something! But he can’t name what he’s feeling because he can’t think hardly! He’s aware enough to know that he’s sobbing into Stan’s back, against his scar. He feels Stan turn around and wrap his arms around him, hauling him into his lap and speaking against his ear.

“Shh, Sixer, it’s okay, I’m okay. The scar’s fine, it’s healed and it doesn’t hurt. I’m not mad about it, I’m not mad at you. I could never be mad at you, you’re my Smartypants, huh?” Stan whispered in his ear, slightly bouncing his knee in an attempt to calm him.

Ford didn’t even realize he mentioned the scar. Did he? Stan probably guessed why he was crying, his brother was good at reading people like that, Ford never could. Stan was such a cool brother, Ford was lucky to have him. He sniffles, trying to subtly wipe his eyes on Stan’s shoulder, but guessing by the chuckle, he was caught. He swallowed his spit, but his throat still felt dry.

“B-but it’s m-my fault. The hurt on your shoulder, I did it.” His ears feels hot, embarrassed of his higher pitched tone and bad grammar. He can’t help it when he’s little, and Stan’s never made fun of him, but he’ll still feel that shame on occasion, the shame of going against societal acceptance.

“Hey now, what did we agree when we talked about that? We both fu-uh messed up. I mean-Stanford, I pushed you through-“ Stan pauses and winces, not wanting to bring up the portal incident, not when Ford’s little, and not when he’s already upset. Man, he’s really messing this up. “Th-the point is that we both have made mistakes, we have both Burt each other. But most importantly, we have said sorry to each other, okay. So it’s literally no harm and no foul. So please, Buddy, dry those tears, and let’s eat that grilled cheese, hm? I’ll even feed you so you can read without greasy fingers!”

Ford giggles as Stanley tickles his chin, his words calming him a bit. Stan always knows how to cheer Ford up, he loves his brother so much. Ford knows he’ll still be down for the rest of the rest of the day, and he’s sure Stan will know too. Usually, when Ford gets upset like this, Stan will let him cling, let Ford follow him around. He’ll wrap Ford up in his weighted blanket, and just sit with him, let Ford just exist with no words needed.

Stan sets Ford aside, plops Dr. Mittens and Ford’s book on his lap, and opens it back to Space Junk, and picks up the plate with the grilled cheese.

“So, tell me about Space Junk, Poindexter. Whatzit? I’m a assumin, Junk in Space?” Stan jokes as he holds up one half of the sandwich to Ford’s mouth.

“No! Well, yes! But, Buddy, it’s more than that, right Dr. Mittens?” Ford laughs as he looks at his stuffed animal, taking a bite from the sandwich poking his mouth. He chews and swallows before beginning to read the page again.

“Space Junk is any Human-made object orbiting Earth that no longer serves a useful purpose…”

[decaffeinatedcandycane]

RANDOM Headcanons: Buying make-up shenanigans

Warnings ⚠ none

Includes: Price, Soap, Ghost, Alejandro, Andre, Konig, Gaz, Horangi, Nikolai

Has "can figure everything out" attitude and confidently enters a store just to get lost in it.

Browses for hours, gets mad when he can't decide, then gets distracted by another item. Rinse and repeat.

The cycle continues until he snatches a sales person, or a manager suspects him of stealing, asks tons of questions, ends up buying himself lipgloss (smells like coconut)

There is just too much stuff in the store, it gets him overwhelmed.

Tries to tactically question you about makeup, gives up and snoops through your bags.

Eventually buys some more "stuff" (gets himself different smelling lipbalms and lipglosses) and gets you something you already have.

Admits what he was doing and drags you back to the store with him.

Bonus: The sales people there are sweating upon his arrival. Even the trainee learnt the makeup brands, just by staying next to Price and listening as he asks his question. And he asks, asks questions - even about the ingredients.

Baby boy loves sparkles and the smell of makeup. The salesmen don't like him that much.

He knows what you like, however he is not permitted to shop alone. Why? His toxic trait is that: he buys in bulk.

You learnt that the hard way, after he came home with 27 eyeshadow pallets.

Expiration dates who?

Has a mascara from 7 years ago. Refuses to throw it away. Only does so, after you show him a documentary about eye infection.

Please take a moment to envision how tall and scary he looks in the makeup aisle, standing behind you like a creepy statue, dull on black, with his balaclava. I just giggled.

Insist on paying for everything ( didn't say anything about Price, because there is no insisting - he just pays. Ghost, at least pretends he will let you pay.)

Despises the blackhead mask. Did it once, regretted his life choices.

Experimenting king.

He is the dude who will visit a store, several times, no matter where he is at and buy whatever is new, shiny and cool.

Loves giving you his makeup finds and watching you apply/wear them.

Plays with your brushes a lot. ( They are just so soft and fluffy)

Bonus: Buys skincare for you and the team. Forces his team in spa day retreats.

Definitely knows what to buy.

He knows your makeup, especially if you live together.

Gets lost in the brushes sections and touches everything fluffy. (Don't let him shop with Soap)

Smells everything and if he wants to try something new, buys whatever smells best.

Compares prices online, if a salesperson is mean to him, buys the cheaper stuff and returns back to the store. (Petty boy)

Prefers more matte and glossy options, rather than sparkles.

You already know imma gonna say it. But if you think people get scared of Ghost in a store, you should see them around König.

Can he wear civilian clothes and no mask. Yes. Does he. Sometimes. If he feels like it.

You reassure every sales person that he is with you and he is no a threat.

König in a makeup store is like a kid around new shiny things. Touches everything.

Wants to buy everything.

"No, I don't need this" and "Put it back" are your go to phrases.

Does not enter tight stores after a shelf incident.

If you shop for hours he may make friends with the staff and even help them with the heavy lifting. (lil show-off 👑)

Gets shifty easily, so you better have Horangi nearby or be located near a food court.

Steals shit. Not because he has to, but because he can.

Definitely goes shopping alone, or uses you as a mule for his stolen goods.

Absolute creature when it comes to makeup sponges. Tiny, squishy and come in different shapes and colors.

Has a collection of them.

Sample king (loves free shit, espcially of expensive products), but has a deep appreciation of the tiny samples. Keeps them as another collection.

Lost af

Buys whatever the makeup girl tells him to buy.

He will try to figure out your makeup, after trying solo shopping and will buy some stuff. Not incompetent at all.

Hates the stores. Sales people continuously snuck up on him and talk. Nikolai is not a fan.

Sorry, but he has a special place saved for hatred for every store where he has to socialize.

Has enough opinions on products to need any external ones.

Will buy you makeup as a gift, but that's it.

Don't drag him to a store, ever.

Makeup judge. Buys only brands he trusts and ignores the rest.

Goes with you and glares at the sales people, who try to make you buy more products.

Buys his lipbalm at a grocery store to avoid sales pitches.

Huge on skin care and hair products, which he orders online.

Loves when people stare at you at the store, always puts a hand around your waist. "Yup,she is with me" attitude (one of the main reasons on why he shops with you)

[claitea]

i've had these scenarios written down since volo's debut in pokemon masters and i just really wanted to scribble them down and finally release them

[edwinisms]

i get such a sense of primal envy when looking at edwin’s clothes up close because god you can just tell his coat is real wool and made to last and not cheap flimsy mass produced garbage and auggagghhhh that was just STANDARD in his time. by no means am i saying i was #borninthewronggeneration because i like having vaccines and household appliances but. man. to have a personally-tailored coat like that that’d last for years and years……. and fabrics of fine thread-dense quality………. if only

[coquelicoq]

i just don't understand what milady has done that was so bad. sure she killed and she kidnapped, but who hasn't? sure she's a terrifying demon of vengeance, but she deserves it? good for her??? all these men treat her so reprehensibly and she's smart and talented and she should kill them all if she wants to. i support her.

[siderealxmelody]

She snapped her head to the door at the knock. She was on her feet, her shadows slowing when they realized it was just Natalia, Lady Natalia as she should address her right?

She had thought he'd come to - her pulse racing back up as she saw him past his mother's shoulder.

She looked to Natalia, thing to find words.

"I - this - I'm not sure what's to happen now Your Grace. I - I don't want to be an imposition. I - my father is he -"

She stopped talking, turning to stare at her food, her gut churning. Her hands clenching at her sides. Sebastian's question circled like an echo in her head.

A bell that had rung, a bell she hadn't known even existed.

"I hope he dies. I hope he suffers for how he treated my mother."

She remembered those stories, quietly told to her in the darkness of night. How in awe her mother had been of them, of her.

"I'd been no one then my little warrior. Natalia had dragged me from obscurity, I owe her everything. I wouldn't have gained anything without her."

She still wondered what it was they had that was better than what her mother had had. A male who beat them? A son long dead and rotten?

A - she swallowed and raised her chin. Her eyes burning, anger and rage. Rage at being whisked away, rage at being thrown into this place without a choice. Rage at having some other male dictate her life for her.

"My mother spoke of you, of everything you did. How you bent fates and made your own destiny. So why am I here Your Ladyship? I wish to go home...I want to kill him as your mate would have allowed me to."

She didn't much of Sebastian, but that was known. His devotion, his absolute violence at anyone who had hurt his own. She didn't wonder if Azriel had done that for her. She made her mind not imagine what it would be like to have a male like that who knelt only for her - who would see the world burn unless she alone stopped him.

The changeling blood in her, the shadows in her thrilled at that - it was intoxicating.

She wondered then, staring at Natalia if even any of that was true. She was beautiful, deadly, volatile....but she was mother. Was she still as deadly as all those stories? Was it true Sebastian had sworn his vows of the crown at her knees. That he'd vowed to rule for as long as she walked at his side?

Was it arrogance or foolishness that pushed him to brand her as his biggest weakness and strength so publicly?

------

Sebastian sighed, rubbing at his face as he walked to the balcony. He spotter Aleksander a step behind him. He wondered if he was curious or as angry as Agenor was.

He turned to the sky, trying and failing to keep his mock whine from the bond.

You left me to fend for myself Natalia. Agenor's voice has given me a headache. We should find a way to block his voice before he makes someone go mad...how is she doing?

------

She couldn't hear the screaming now, apparently what Sebastian had done wasn't normal or good. She couldn't hear Agenor now, but he'd been fuming calling his cousin naive, impulsive. His words still rattled in her head, even hours later:

"There's thousands like her Sebastian suffering, what you're going to empty our coffers to save all them?"

"She has shadows, she was Kheto's daugther, she went through hell after their boy died. We owe her -"

"We owe her, or her memory nothing! Proteus still has war ties. Do you ever think or is everything just reactions for you?!"

She had been ushered away after that, bathed and given a room. She hadn't touched her food either. She wondered if that boy - Azriel, the prince, would come and check on her.

But why would he? Who was she to earn that?

[shigarakins]

i remember when the bodysnatching happened and how hardly anyone else in the fandom (or what i saw of the fandom) seemed to find it as horrifying as i did. then the same thing happened again with the mind invasion. and yes the fact that the mind invasion happened at all and not even the story gave much of a fuck about the fact that it did is still one of biggest gripes with the finale

[constantvariations]

K so, Semblances are connected to Aura which is a manifestation of the soul yeah?

In Before the Dawn, the father of the villains confirms that one of twin's semblance was active in the womb throughout a good portion of the pregnancy

Meaning, in Remnant, fetuses have souls. Wonder how legal abortions are

Edit: just remembered Pyrrha had to unlock Jaune's Aura in V1, so does that mean someone cracked open a fetus's Aura inside the womb? Was Gillian strong enough as a cluster of cells to unlock it herself?? Wtf is this origin story???

[tiddiesoutwhenthetisout]

not me curling my laptop charger wire the way you curl band equipment cords HAHAHA god i miss it