#just love knowing that they sang what i like about you

[myblogisatotalmess]

MILD MOANA 2 SPOILERS AHEAD

I saw Moana 2 as a Polynesian person. I thought it was INCREDIBLE. I know many people already don't really like it, but I think it's because THIS specific movie, they went harder on the Polynesian culture.

The music is even more Polynesian, and written pretty much solely by Polynesian people. The culture is even more included in it's narrative and in the details, they show more tattoos, the Kava ceremony, speaking more of the Pacific Islander native languages, even some the humor is very Polynesian humor.

I personally really enjoyed the storyline, and I liked that it introduced a "morally gray" character to help guide Moana into realizing that you have to just embrace what's given to you. It's a great representation of what the ocean is. It's sometimes not as reliable and friendly as Moana expects it to be, and has grown accustomed to. So when she asks for the ocean's help and receives no answer, she's better prepared to face it as it comes, and adapt, and embrace it.

Not only that, but in terms of Polynesian deities, there isn't just one "good" or "bad". There are complicated morally gray deities. Pele, for instance, is a goddess known for volcanoes and destruction, but she is also known as creation and rebirth. The Earth is scorched by the flames and lava to make way for new land and healthier vegetation.

The songs aren't as "memorable" to those who aren't fully embracing the culture. For me, I got chills hearing the music. It felt authentic and from the heart and soul of the Polynesian people who sang it. Sure, many outside of the culture can't "sing along" to it, but that doesn't make it inherently bad, just because it's not marketable TO YOU.

For someone who's waited forever to have representation, and grew up with Lilo and Stitch being the only one (which wasn't that much in terms of representation.) To then seeing Moana come out when I was 16, and cried then. For then Moana 2 to come out tonight, and I cried AGAIN at 24 years old. My inner child was so excited to hear and FEEL what that representation sounds like, looks like, and means.

The original Moana was tippy-toeing into Polynesian culture, where it could still be marketable so everyone could enjoy it. Because they didn't want it to flop. It feels the same as a Polynesian person having to cater to tourists who only see the Polynesian culture as something they can exploit and be entertained by.

That doesn't mean that it was bad, it was moving tides in that time, and I would take that representation over the crumbs we've had before.

But this movie? Moana 2? This was for US. This was for the Polynesian cultures. This felt like a love letter to us, as a culture, to unite and know that we have community, and to feel seen, in all of our glory, and not a watered-down version to be "marketable" to others outside of our culture.

So, I expect people to not like it. But I also expect it to be because it's coming from a place where they don't understand how it feels to experience, love, embrace, learn, and educate others about Polynesian culture.

I love my culture, and I love my Polynesian siblings as a Kanaka Hawaiian. I love my Maori, Samoan, Tahitian, Tongan, etc. siblings. I love seeing a mix of all of our cultures come together and be represented.

For those who aren't a part of our culture, truly listen to our history and our struggles and successes. Educate yourself on how to be a better ally and find cultural appreciation (not appropriation) for our culture. We are real people with real stories. Not some fictional character (or Halloween costume/party favor/etc.) you can write off and only look at as "entertainment" and can only hold value when we're catering to you. That includes our music, our language, our dances, and our stories.

That's all for now. ❤️ I'll be willing to have adult, civil, conversations with others about differences in why you didn't enjoy it as much, but hate will be deleted and blocked. ❤️

[fookinhellcurly]

So last night, one of my fave music reactors on yt dropped a reaction of Right Now live in San Siro, and it was requested by his sister whom he hadn’t really been close with especially the past few years (they were when they were younger). It was out of nowhere when she messaged him, asking if he could do 1D reactions - so of course, he did because he felt it was time.

The whole time he was speaking about Liam in his intro, his was already in the verge of tears and I could feel the pain in his eyes and voice. He’s British and he’s been following the news about Liam since it broke out. I tried to not break down AND MIND YOU, he hasn’t even started the video yet. That Right Now live is arguably one if not the most emotional live performances of 1D for me. It was the perfect song to share with this reactor because he’s not afraid of showing his emotions.

When Liam sang his first solo lines, he straight up looked into the camera while holding back his tears and said “this is my first time hearing Liam sing” and it broke my heart. Throughout the entire video, my mind kept on thinking how beautiful the crowd was in that moment, how they were on top of the world, and how we got to show them how much we loved them so deeply - that we were by their side as they fought through the hardships in reaching their dreams.

And it killed me. Because I remember when the boys were talking about the end of it all; what if their peak was THAT exact time - them in that moment, being in the band, touring with their best mates and being in the height of their careers. Liam referenced Benjamin Button and said maybe they’re meant to do it backwards. That after the glory and the fame, they’re supposed to enjoy life and have families and kids. I’m so glad Li got to become a loving father, but it wasn’t supposed to be cut short and abruptly like this.

Bear was supposed to grow up hearing more stories about his dad when he was a younger and trying to make it as a singer. How he dreamt of becoming a fireman before realizing he has a shot of becoming a star. How he got to be a part of the greatest team this world has seen, sharing the stage with 4 other simple boys who were just like him, just trying to make it, and they did more than that - they are ETCHED IN HISTORY.

And Liam, our sweet Liam, he deserved more time in this world than what he got. He was supposed to release more music he’d been working so hard for to share with us. He was supposed to have his own moment and tour just like the rest of the boys do - those same tours he supported them with. He was supposed to reunite with his best friends and share the stage with them again when the time is right. He was supposed to grow old with us, find help and peace in time so he could heal, and recover from the cruelty of the world he’d face. He was meant to be bigger than this.

And I wasn’t supposed to be writing down these heartbreaking thoughts so early in the day because it wasn’t supposed to be like this.

Liam, love, I hope you know how much we love you. I hope you have finally found your peace.

It just… it wasn’t supposed to go this way. He was supposed to get the help he deserved and recover. They were supposed to eventually get back together and rob us all (happily, of course) blind of our life savings for their reunion tour tickets. I was supposed to be able to see him in person, bounding around stage, singing his harmonies and verses, doing mic flips, saying “sing it” and reading silly fan signs. He had so much more life left! He had so much more to do!

This isn’t fair! It isn’t right! This shouldn’t have happened! It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

[motherismotheringggg]

Omg pleasure dom Nicky. His whining above you as his thrust get sloppier but god he just wants to please you. Won’t cum until you do 😫

completely unraveled 🖤

summary: see the request above, anon you ATE with this one!!

type: pleasure dom! nicholas x sub! female reader

tags/warnings: 18+, hella smutty, cock worship, ice play, oral (f! receiving), orgasm restraint, cream pie, slight blood drawn, cream pie, cock warning, aftercare

author’s note: i need a cold cigarette after this is 😮‍💨

word count: 2771

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

For Nicholas, your pleasure was everything—it consumed him, drove him, defined every touch, every kiss, and every movement of his body against yours. It wasn’t just about the act itself; it was about the journey he took you on every time you were together. He reveled in discovering the things that made you gasp, made your breath hitch, and sent shivers cascading down your spine.

Nicholas had an uncanny ability to read you, to anticipate your needs as if your body spoke a language only he understood. He could sense the smallest shifts in your reactions—the way your fingers gripped the sheets or the way your voice wavered when you whispered his name. He knew when to push, when to slow, and when to draw you to the brink and hold you there, teetering on the edge of ecstasy until you were begging for release.

For him, the ultimate reward wasn’t just your climax—it was the way your body melted into his afterward, utterly spent, and the glazed, euphoric fucked look in your eyes that made his heart swell with pride. His mission wasn’t just to make you cum; it was to take you to places you’d never dreamed of, over and over again, until every nerve in your body sang with satisfaction. When he was with you, his sole purpose was clear: to utterly and completely worship you, leaving you breathless, trembling, and blissfully undone in his arms.

————

Now, here you were back in your shared loft apartment with your boyfriend, sitting on the edge of the bed, your skin still humming from the aftershocks of the last round. The soft glow of the city lights filtered through the window, casting shadows across the room as you caught your breath. Nicholas came back from the kitchen, he had something in his hand but you couldn’t quite see it.

He stood in front of you, completely exposed. His cock, still red and throbbing, you went to fill your mouth with him. You loved the way he felt in your mouth, the perfectly rounded tip, and the perfect vainness of his shaft, you loved to worship his body.

To kiss down his body, planting soft kisses on each of his abs before taking him in your mouth. To kiss and bite on his thighs, tracing small circles on them until he slowly guided you to his member.

But he stopped you, he wanted to look at you. He took a moment to appreciate you, his eyes tracing the curve of your neck and the way your breath hitched in between each exhale. His gaze softened, the lust in his eyes replaced by something deeper, more intimate. You felt it too—the unspoken connection that tethered you both.

“Are you okay?” he murmured, his voice low and tender, just the slightest hint of concern mixed with the satisfied edge of a man who knew exactly what he’d just done to you. He wasn’t asking for reassurance; he wanted to know how deep he’d taken you, how far he could push you the next time.

You nodded, turning slightly to face him, your lips curving into a satisfied smile. "Thank you, Nicholas," you whispered, the words thick with affection and desire. He liked when you thanked him; when you made him feel as special as he made you. He reached down to cup your face, letting his thumb grace your bottom lip. “You’re so beautiful when you look at me like this…like need me”, he said as he glared at you, his eyes were dark with lust.

He leaned down to kiss you, grabbing your face in his hand as he had full control. The kiss started slow but grew into something deeper. Your tongues wrestled each other, before his slipped of your mouth and licked you. Licked your lips, licked your cheek, licked wherever he pleased. You were wrapped up in the euphoria of the kiss that you hadn’t see what he had in his hand from before.

It wasn’t until you felt the cold burn of an ice cube on your back, still covered in sweat and radiating heat from before. You let out a deep long hiss, falling into Nicholas as he continued to kiss on you. You were breathless, barely able to call out his name but still needing to let him know how good he felt,

“mmm Nicholas, that feels so good…”

“Is that right baby?”

“Yes Nicholas, I need you so bad”

“Tell me where you want me baby”

“Nicholas I --” you were cut short by Nicholas dropping to his knees, taking that same ice cube from your back, which had melted down some, and putting it in his mouth.

“Don't stop baby, tell me what you want”, he said, muffled with the ice cube slightly muffling him.

Nicholas leaned in, his cool lips with the ice cube brushing your clit, your back arched with sheer pleasure. Your pelvis instinctively shot backward, but Nicholas quickly wrapped his hands around you pulling you closer, as he continued.

The coolness was intoxicating, heightening every sensation, every nerve ending sparking to life under his touch. Your body trembled, shivers of pleasure wracking you as you grasped at his shoulders for stability.

You tried to pull away, but Nicholas wasn’t having it. His strong hands were on you, pulling you closer, keeping you in place as his lips continued to work you, the ice teasing and torturing you in the most delicious way.

"Tell me what you want, baby," he muttered, his breath warm against your skin as he kept you pressed against him, determined to make you beg for more.

The weight of his presence, the passion in his touch, was almost too much to bear. The ice and his lips worked in perfect harmony, sending you spiraling towards something that felt dangerously close to madness.

You couldn’t hold back any longer. "I want you, Nicholas," you gasped, barely able to form coherent words through the waves of pleasure flooding you. "I need your dick baby”, you whined and pouted, letting him know bad you craved him.

He kept going, he could tell you were close, the way your core squirmed under him, the way you thrashed about, the whimpering you tried to contain but failed miserably at. He knew you were right on the edge ready to to unravel and he wanted you to cum right there on his face.

“Nicholas … Nicholas please baby, please fuck me”, you whined out more, thighs clenched as your hips rode in rhythm with him. He didn’t let up once, when the ice cube completely melted, he worked at you with his tongue. The way he lapped at your wetness drove you crazy, every flick of his tongue had an individual hand in undoing you. When he sucked on your bud, you shuttered as your eyes rolled back into your head.

You knew Nicholas wanted you to hold out as long as possible. He reveled in it—how you could push yourself to the very edge, fighting the overwhelming wave of pleasure just to stay in control, just to tease him. He loved it. The way your body trembled, the way your breath hitched in anticipation, it drove him wild. He knew exactly when you were on the brink, when you couldn’t take it anymore, but you fought to keep from falling apart. The anticipation in your eyes, the way your muscles clenched—he lived for that moment.

And when you finally did let go, when you couldn’t hold it in any longer, when you surrendered completely to the pleasure, that’s when he felt it. The pride, the triumph of having taken you to that place, completely fucking you to your limit turned him on. The way you clung to him, your nails digging into his skin as you came undone, made him feel like the king of your world.

Your body quivered with the first wave of release, but Nicholas wasn’t done. He was relentless, his lips, his hands, his body all pushing you further, coaxing out every drop of pleasure, bringing you right back to the edge again and again. He wasn’t just content with one, not when he knew you could handle more.

You tried to hold on, but with each touch, each movement of his hands, it became impossible. The way he worked you, with such precision and care, the way he knew your body better than you did—it was overwhelming.

“I’ve got you, baby,” he murmured, his voice low, as if he knew you were on the brink of breaking. And he was right. He always knew. “Don’t fight it.”

The heat between you two was undeniable, and as the second orgasm hit, more intense than the first, your body gave in completely, trembling uncontrollably against him. Nicholas held you close, steadying you as you went through the motions, his hands gentle but firm, the pride in his eyes showing just how much he loved every second of it.

As you came down from the high, his lips brushed over your thighs, soft and tender, contrasting the intensity of what had just happened. "You’re perfect," he whispered looking up at you with a dark lusty look. His eyes were huge and dilated., He moved up to you to hold you as you caught your breath. You had shifted up on the bed while he lay next to you, rubbing you and making sure you were okay. You had caught your breath enough to pull him in for a kiss, another deep and passionate one. You moaned into each other’s mouths as the kiss grew deeper.

Your hands roamed over his chest, feeling the hard planes of his muscles beneath your fingertips. Nicholas, sensing the shift in the air, took the initiative. His hands moved to your sides, pulling you beneath him as he gently but firmly positioned himself on top of you.

He paused for a brief moment, pulling away slightly, his eyes dark with desire but also a hint of concern. "Are you sure?" he asked, his voice low, rough with barely-contained lust, his hand sliding down to massage your clit. He knew you wanted him, he just wanted to hear you whimper to say it.

You met his gaze, your chest rising and falling with deep breaths, your brows furrowing as you nodded. "Yes," you breathed out. "I need you so bad."

Nicholas didn’t need any more encouragement. He sat up, positioning himself above you as he adjusted to your entrance. With a slow, deliberate movement, he slipped inside, the feeling of your wetness guiding him in with ease.

The moment he entered you, you couldn’t contain the moan that escaped your lips. It was like an instinctual reaction to the depth and warmth of him filling you, your body instinctively arching toward him as your nails dug into his back.

Nicholas’s breath caught in his throat, his eyes closing briefly as he savored the feeling of being buried inside you. It wasn’t just about the act for him—it was about the way you responded, how you opened up to him in ways that made his heart race with a mixture of lust and tenderness. Your pleasure was his fuel, his every move driven by the need to make you feel as good as possible.

"God, you feel so good," he whispered, his voice rough and low. “So fucking wet and tight for me”, he continued, staying still for a moment, letting you adjust to the fullness of him inside you, his hands resting on either side of your body, holding himself up. The connection between you two was electric, both of you feeling the intensity of the moment, but Nicholas was waiting for you. He wanted to feel you tremble, wanted to see the pleasure flood your face.

He gave you a moment, but it wasn’t long before he couldn’t hold back any longer. Slowly, he started to grind, pulling back just enough before thrusting forward, the rhythm building as he sought out that perfect angle, the one that made your back arch and your breath hitch, knowing he was touching your cervix from how big he was.

His eyes locked with yours, watching every shift of your body, the way you reacted to each stroke. Every thrust of his hips was calculated to bring you closer to that peak, and with each movement, your moans grew louder, more desperate. The tension between you both was almost unbearable as he pushed you closer to the edge, but you were holding out for him—just like you always did.

Knowing what he wanted, you were holding out for him. Your body belonged to Nicholas, for him to play with and orchestrate an orgasm from you that almost brought you to tears.

Nicholas could see it in your eyes. You were so close, so close to breaking, but you held on. Your body quivered beneath him, straining against the delicious pressure building inside you. He knew you well enough to understand that you enjoyed the struggle—the way it felt to be pushed to your absolute limit, to be on the edge of complete surrender, all for him.

Your lip was swollen from how hard you were biting it, the ache in your chest growing with each thrust. Your nails had drawn blood from Nicholas’s back as you dug into him, the sting of your pleasure matching the heat coursing through your veins.

"Let me know when you're ready to cum, baby," Nicholas whispered hoarsely, his voice strained with his own restraint. His hair was floppy and slightly saturated with sweat, hanging messily over his face as he held himself above you, never once breaking the rhythm of his thrusts. The sight of him—wild and consumed by you—was almost too much to handle.

You tried to hold on a little longer, wanting to make him wait, but his relentless pace was beginning to unravel you, each stroke pushing you closer to the edge. You could feel yourself tightening around him, the warmth pooling in your stomach as you fought to stay just a little longer.

Nicholas’s hands gripped your hips tighter, his breaths growing shallow, each one a little more ragged as he became more desperate. He could tell you were close—he always could—but the need to hear you fall apart before he did had him on the edge of his own control.

"Baby, please..." His voice was softer now, almost whiny, as his hips faltered for a split second. "Let go for me... I need to see you cum. Please." The desperation in his words only spurred you on, pushing you to the brink.

His thrusts started to get sloppier, less controlled, as if he was teetering on the edge himself. The wet sound of his cock slamming in and out of your wetness grew louder, the intensity in his eyes matching the frenzy in his movements. "I can’t... I can't wait, baby," he muttered, voice broken as he pulled you closer, pressing into you deeper, harder. His cock slid into you with an urgency that matched the mounting tension, his pace erratic but still aimed at pushing you toward your climax.

You couldn’t hold back any longer. With a sharp gasp, your body finally surrendered, the pleasure bursting through you in waves. Your back arched off the bed, your nails dragging down his back even more as the orgasm hit you, intense and overwhelming.

Nicholas's eyes locked on you, his jaw tightening as he felt you clench around him, riding out your release. He gave one last desperate thrust, whining as the pressure finally broke inside him. "Fuck," he groaned, his movements sloppy and erratic as he spilled into you, his body shuddering with his own orgasm.

He collapsed on top of you, his body trembling as he held you close, both of you still panting for air. His head rested on your chest as he tried to catch his breath, and you could feel the thumping of his heart against your skin, while he was still throbbing inside of you.

"You’re so perfect for me baby” he murmured between breaths, pressing a soft kiss to your collarbone. "You were made for me"

You ran your fingers through his damp hair, gently soothing him as he slowly regained his composure. The bond between you two, unspoken but felt, lingered in the air, heavy and undeniable. Nicholas had given everything to make sure you were satisfied, and in that moment, as you both lay tangled in each other’s arms, you knew he wouldn’t have it any other way.

[ellastone-olsen]

im desperate for aubrey smut x fem reader 😭🙏 begging you pleaseplaseplasepleaseplease

XOXO ꒰ఎ ♡ ໒꒱

Warnings: NSFW 18+, pet names, lots of kissing, soft Aubrey, thigh riding, fingering

AN: oh how I love this woman…my sweet baby ugh 💔

She kissed you, once, twice, three times. Her hands were on your waist, gently pushing you against the wall. You backed away from her pressure, and when you reached the wall you felt her hand on the back of your head, cushioning the blow. Something was different from the usual Aubrey. There was none of the rush and passion that the older woman usually had. Instead, she seemed to savor every moment, catching every breath and whine you made. She seemed soft and gentle.

She tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and then traced your cheekbones, lightly stroking them. “My sweet little thing,” she sang softly, her brown eyes looking into yours. “I want to savor every moment.” Another kiss and you opened your mouth, letting her do what she wanted. Your legs felt weak and your lack of balance forced her to hold you by your hips.

You whine as she breaks the kiss and her lips shining with your lip gloss and before you can enjoy it she has them pinned to your neck, licking you there gently as your head falls back and hits the wall. She holds you so your thighs are perfectly pressed together, she stands between your legs and you lift one to wrap around her, pulling her closer, feeling her chest against yours. Your hips have begun to buck unconsciously, making Aubrey laugh and help you, rocking you for more pleasure.

"Does that feel good, baby?" she whispers against your ear, her voice dripping with sweetness and adoration. You hum in agreement, loving everything she does. You can physically feel yourself dripping and rolling your hips up, enjoying the moment even more. "Please," you whine and the next moment you're on the plush bed, completely naked and ready for her.

She kisses everywhere she can reach, plays with your breasts, enjoying the softness of your boobs, leaves red wet bites on your flat stomach, kisses your inner thighs while looking into your eyes, making your head spin. And finally pushes two fingers inside, feeling how your soft, swollen from excitement walls envelop her.

"Oh fuck... Aubrey," she purrs in delight and kisses your hips again because you are her sweet little thing and not just an object of lust. Her rhythm is soft and steady, slowly stroking the sensitive spot inside, making you rock instinctively. She moves up your body and gives you another soft kiss, you feel her hair falling on your face and tickling, the smell of her shampoo and perfume enveloping you and all your senses mixing at once. She says breathlessly and tries to speak.

"Good girl. Such a good little thing for me." The woman throws her leg over your hip and presses herself against you, making you feel her own wetness as she spreads it across your skin. "Can you feel it, baby?" she rolls her hips. "You make me like this, and now I need more." You touch your sensitive bud and twitch at the sensation. The knot in your stomach is about to burst and she knows it.

“Come on baby, cum for me.” She licks and moans in your ear. Your whole body is tense as a string and her words push you over the edge. You’re a sore mess, unable to stop riding her fingers during her orgasm and continuing to do so after, until everything inside you is hypersensitive and responsive. She lets you do this until you’re tired and go limp, locking your legs together. “That’s it,” she brushes the hair off her forehead.

"Thank you," you whisper weakly, wrapping your arms around her neck. "5 minute break and then it's your turn."

[redvelvetcupcakes21]

Might write it out more.

Tommy isn't religious, but he's praying to whomever can hear him that the boy,who looks barely two or three years old, is okay.

He wants to desperately curse out the parents for being stupid enough to go hiking when the Santa Ana winds were getting stronger.

Tommy picks up the kid gingerly, waiting for his team to pull the parents first since they weren't responding. The kid had a horrible open wound that Tommy was betting was a fracture but the kid's eyes were open and he seemed alert- scared really.

Something about the kid's eyes felt eerily familiar- a sense of deja vu washed over Tommy. The kid's eyes were starting blue and so animated, that Tommy was sure he could read the kid's thoughts just by looking into his eyes.

He gently pushed back the kid's blond curly hair back, pressing against the wound as the kid's eyes could only look around in fear. "Hey, I'm Tommy. What you're name, kiddo?"

"Danny." The kid slurred, his voice barely a whisper. "Mommy and daddy hurt?"

Tommy nodded, "Yes, your mommy and daddy got hurt but my friends are gonna help, okay? We're all firefighters and we're gonna take you to the hospital so you can feel better." He explained gently. He looked up to the helicopter that Lucy was piloting l. The winds were harsh and he had covered Danny's face from having to see his parents sway in the wind as they were being pulled into the helicopter.

"Firetruck?" Danny's eyes were filled with wonder and excitement, of course the kid would love firetrucks.

Tommy laughed, " When we get out of here, we can go see firetrucks with your mom and dad. Okay?"

Danny's eyes drooped close, Tommy patted the toddler's face gently, "Hey buddy, I know you're tired, but I need you to stay awake."

"I'm not tired, Tummy."

Tommy nearly snickered at that, the kid was such a cutie pie. "Hey, what if we sang a song? Want to sing me a song?"

He heard it before he heard his team yell.

The sound of the ground shifting.

"KINARD!"

-

Amir was ready by the doors for EMT to come through with the second party of the hill avalanche call.

The first set to come through was a couple, younger than Amir. Amir knew that they were able to get the name of the man since he had on a medical bracelet- Connor. They were both rushed to the OR due to being in critical conditions. Amir wasn't sure if either one would make it just based on the amount of blood he saw on the emt workers working on them.

He waited and saw his patient coming in.

"What do we have today?" Amir asked, taking control of the gurney that had the third adult.

"40 years old white male, lacerations on the back of the head, severe bruising on his back and legs, possible fracture on his left leg and possible crush hip." The rushed blond emt informed him, Amir's eyes followed the fourth gurney that was trailing behind them, this one carrying much smaller patient

"Is that his kid?" Amir asked, the kid looked rough and bloodied, with another nurse taking over the bagging for the kid's ventilation.

Another emt looked the blond woman worriedly, "No, he's one of ours, Tommy Kinard. The kid belongs to the parents who were rushed in earlier."

Amir sighed, "Noted, we'll take it from here guys."

-

The five mile run didn't do anything to calm Buck's nerves.

He still wanted to call Tommy.

More now than ever since he felt like he was losing his family again.

He wanted to be supportive of Eddie, of Maddie and Chim, and Bobby.

But a part of him felt like he couldn't.

Especially that part that saw a future with Tommy.

He chucked his headphones onto the kitchen counter and was ready to do the same with his phone when he saw a familiar number calling him.

"Hello?"

"Hello, is this Evan Buckley?"

Buck could already feel himself start to worry, no one typically asked that question unless it was related to something bad.

"Uh, ye-yeah, this is Evan Buckley." Buck replied roughly.

"I'm calling from Cedar-Sinai hospital, I'm calling about Thomas Kinard? You're listed as his emergency contact."

Buck felt his blood rush to his ears, he was sure words were said but he was on auto-pilot now. He understood a few words the nurse was telling him as he grabbed his keys and wallet: severe injuries, avalanche, helicopter rescue, kid.

Buck just needed to get to Tommy.

[waitmyturtles]

Love In The Big City: An Homage to the Best Queer Show I Watched This Year*

(*that actually aired this year, because I watch a lot of old shows.)

(TW: suicide attempt)

The time I spent reading the novel and watching the television drama series of Love In The Big City by Park Sang-Young was some of the very best time I invested in art this year.

(credit: @/khunkinn)

I wanted to try to keep up with the amazing LITBC Book Club (click the tag below to see all the club's meta!) earlier this year, but I couldn't on my mom schedule. So here's a wrap-up homage to my overall thoughts about this amazing book and its equally amazing drama adaptation, and hopefully I won't repeat anyone's points from earlier meta.

Earlier this fall season, as the drama was just released, I noted my overall thoughts on Park Sang-Young's 2021 novel. What's so great about the moment in time when a book and its drama adaptation meet the same levels of excellence in art, is that you get to see what each artistic medium can really offer by way of its specific ability to penetrate and dissect certain emotional states. With the drama adaptation, we got a more in-depth sense of the visual and behavioral whimsy of Go Young's T-aras friend group. We got a living, breathing sense of the simultaneous quiet and frantic pulse of the Seoul that Young occupied. We could almost taste and smell the sweat, the tequila, the apple martinis of the nightclubs that Young danced in at all hours.

I happened to love the novel, as I wrote in my previous piece linked above, because I love to cringe at really well-written, pathetic narrators. Like Proust's narrator, like Karl Ove Knausgard in his hefty autobiographical series, "My Struggle," you can read the internal musings of these narrators, and you squirm and cringe, being all like.... "really, bro? I know I have trouble getting it together -- emotionally, physically, sexually, everything -- but, dude, YOU are taking the CAKE."

The reason for the squirm is because excellently-written narrators like Proust's narrator, like Knausgard himself (okay, we can argue about "excellently written," but that's for another piece), are emotional pathologists, dissecting every minute whim of a feeling into words, cutting words that account for every last iota of mental anguish that these narrators feel at every given moment.

It's a brutal accountability test for us readers to weather. And, of course, as the very best art does -- it forces us, the readers, to face our own recognition of the kinds of emotions these narrators are detailing, and asks us to relate to them, vis à vis how we ourselves understand these emotions. Thus, a resulting squirm and cringe, as we reckon with our own emotional accountability in that very moment.

I had so many of these wonderful moments when I was reading the novel version of Love In The Big City. Go Young was so cringe. So pathetic.

(credit: @/my-rose-tinted-glasses)

And while the novel delved brutally into the reasons WHY Go Young was so pathetic and cringe, I enjoyed the drama's ability to sensually and holistically take me into that WHY place as well.

For me, Go Young's journey into the adulthood he ends up in begins with the intergenerational trauma and the avoidant attachment he must have with his mother. I say "must" because he's all she's got, and Go Young, to his misfortune, knows this, and must deal with it, and with her.

This is despite her utterly rejecting his identity, his sexuality, and forcing him at a young age to face conversion therapy in as abusive a situation as possible, literally being kidnapped into the therapy. We know from the novel that his therapists end up realizing that his sexuality is not his "issue," and that the "issue" is his actually deranged, Christian-devoted mother.

The drama doesn't get into that level of details. I will absolutely estimate that it COULDN'T get into that level of detail due to potential censorship, and the portrayed meaning of such a comparison as to show a devout Christian mother as a neglectful, bigoted mother.

But what the drama showed me, in real time, were the spontaneous movements and moments that punctuated Young's life, that were totally derived from the low self-esteem, the lack of internal love and respect he had for himself for most of the series. The emptiness, the lack of BELIEF that he had in himself, that stemmed from the refusal of his mother to accept him lovingly and holistically. I'd recommend LITBC to any potential parent as a guide on how to NOT parent your kid.

As someone trained in the social services, and as a steadfast lover of intergenerational trauma in shows -- and how dramas demonstrate the long-term impact of intergeneration trauma unto their characters -- Love In The Big City is utterly SUPERLATIVE in this category.

And this kind of neglect that young queer people so very often face in their families NEEDS to be depicted in art, so that we can see the risks of what these young people could, and will, grow up to be, without nurturing love in their life.

So. Man. Go Young goes fucking ham on fucking hipster doofus Yeong Su in a restaurant. Yeong Su, who himself deals with a kind of internalized homophobia that results in him producing bigoted "research" on homosexuality. And Go Young, unconsciously hoping that he could find love with a most unlovable man, subsequently attempts suicide.

Go Young breaks up with Gyu Ho minutes before Gyu Ho is to depart to China. I saw that moment as Go Young "releasing" Gyu Ho from the burden that Go Young assumes himself to be -- emotional baggage, Kylie, and all.

Go Young cavorts with Habibi, a man escaping just about everything by way of luxury hotels and unfulfilling work. After his real relationship with Gyu Ho, Go Young follows Habibi on Habibi's orders, having little to no agency in the coupling until the absolute end, as he leaves Habibi with a note. Habibi, who himself is also a subject of clear internalized homophobia, another example of the absolute wrath that social bigotry can lay waste on a queer individual.

Love In The Big City balanced these brutal moments of internalized trauma, bigotry, and homophobia with LIFE as it could be lived: life spent working, writing, drinking, partying, sucking dick and moving mattresses, catching up with old friends, supporting engagements, comforting friends after break-ups, BEING PRESENT for yourself and your family and your friends.

There was a shift of growth and responsibility in Go Young's life when his cancer-addled mother sank her head down on his lap in the sunlight of a park at the end of the second chapter of the drama. But what was so OUTSTANDING about the drama version of Love In The Big City, is that the drama didn't assume that that shift would be a great dramatic moment. Go Young certainly got into a relationship with Gyu Ho afterwards.... but he damn fucked it up at the end.

AND IT WAS OKAY. Even though we viewers were fucking heartbroken, IT WAS OKAY....

... because I believe Love In The Big City was communicating to us that it's perfectly okay to stumble in one's continued growth, in the movement forward of one's life. Go Young gets a new apartment, new light in his windows and his life, and celebrates the move (and the end of Eun Su's engagement) on his rooftop with his besties.

The novel ends a bit more brutally than the drama. In the drama, we do very much get to see Go Young doing a moving-forward thing. I was screaming and pacing at @lurkingshan when I finished the novel, and I felt slightly more uplifted when I watched the drama.

I love that I felt those two ways about my experience with each medium. Again, it shows what I GOT from the experience of reading and watching this story separately. And the drama very much played up the T-aras group more for kicks and lights (especially in the hospital), but I still got such a brutal sense of Go Young's internal mishegoss, that maybe I needed those gworls, too, the way Go Young always did.

The other best queer show that I watched this year did not actually air this year. That one is 2022's The Miracle of Teddy Bear from Thailand, which I will review soon for my Thai QL Old GMMTV Challenge project. The Miracle of Teddy Bear was rooted in anger and accountability against parents, adults, and society, for the wreckage that bigotry and abuse can render, internally and externally, on the bodies and minds of young queer people. It was an utterly exacting exercise in a brutal breakdown of queer pain.

Love In The Big City, in comparison, was a visual meditation on the mundanity of an individual's life -- depicting all the cringe and the pain associated with it -- vis à vis broken and incomplete love from family and lovers. But Love In The Big City also had LIFE, LIFE LIVED, woven through it all. Go Young kept clubbing with his friends, because he needed it, because he needed his friends, because his FRIENDS needed the club, and because his friends needed HIM.

While I felt a broken heart for his relationship with Gyu Ho at the end of the drama, what I had for Go Young was hope -- a hope that, while I knew the man, in fiction, would still experience hurt while moving forward, would still very much move forward nonetheless, on his own accord.

(credit: @/khunkinn)

(tagging @neuroticbookworm for awareness <3)

[my-castles-crumbling]

Hi cas! Good morning? (I dk what time zone you are in)

If you want I'm really curious to know how you met your wife, if you fell on love immediately, if she reciprocated...

Txs sm <3

Hi! Thank you for asking :D

So the short story is we met on Tinder.

I had recently gotten out of a very toxic relationship and I was trying to Get Back Out There and I was on multiple dating apps. Honestly, I think I was trying to build my self-esteem a bit. I'd been asked on dates by a few people but I always chickened out at the last second. I was pretty fucked up from my ex, and I just didn't feel comfortable.

When we matched, we had mutual friends so I knew she was who she said she was. And then we started flirting over the app and we just clicked, you know? And she made me smile and everything lol

We agreed on a date and I was pretty convinced I was going to chicken out. She was actually LATE. But I was picking her up and I remember being so nervous, waiting in the car, like my heart was in my throat and my stomach was churning and then she got in the car and I just relaxed. And I'd never felt like that on a date. Like my ex made me feel like such crap and I had been so uncomfortable with the idea of actually dating someone else so it was the best feeling in the world. And I feel like that was a sign that she was the person I was meant to be with, you know? (And I was right. She's the most patient, kind, amazing person)

I'd brought her a flower and she was all happy about it, and then we drove to the restaurant and I ate about three bites of my food because I was still nervous (in the sense that I didn't want to say the wrong thing lol I felt completely safe) and she still gives me shit for not eating anything because she didn't eat much because I didn't and 8 years later she still tells me I owe her the rest of the pizza she didn't finish.

But anyway, we talked at the restaurant for about 3ish hours, and we both were absolutely horrible at flirting. I told her a story about my dead goldfish and she sang a song from Arthur (the kids show) and then at the end of the three hours, I drove her home only to realize she lived in the SAME APARTMENT COMPLEX as me. And then we were sitting there awkwardly bc I wanted to kiss her and she wanted to kiss me but neither of us wanted to make the first move so she just went inside.

And then she texted and asked me if I was straight! Like she had the audacity to think I was straight after we went on a 3-hour date after meeting on tinder lol. So I was like, NO.

But anyway she came over to my apartment....five days later? And I kicked my roommates out because I was DETERMINED to kiss her lol. And we had a perfectly respectable kiss and did nothing else at all because I know there are probably children reading this 👀

And then THAT day she told me she was planning on moving to a different state for grad school. And my response was "I can get a job in another state." And she was very happy about that.

So after knowing each other in person for five days and going on two dates, we basically had already decided to move in together.

And...we did! She moved 1000 miles away five months later and I went with her and I proposed while we lived there! And we got married almost to years ago!

The end!

[hailthegodsong]

MISTLETOE

~ One Shot ~ Josh Kiszka / Female Reader

Word Count: + 3k

Content Warnings: Flirting, touching, kissing, sexual suggestions, sweet talking, love bombs. SMUT 18+ INCLUDING: Oral sex (female receiving), kitchen smut, palming/ hand job (not really but kinda), orgasm/s, sexual embarrassment, smut without plot.

❆

The mood is right 

The spirits up

Were here tonight 

And that's enough 

Simply having a wonderful christmas time 

You sang softly along to the Christmas essentials vinyl Josh insisted he bought for the festive season, nodding your head slightly to the familiar rhythm as you worked away in the kitchen. 

The room was steeped in warmth and cinnamon-sweetness, as though every wall and corner had absorbed the scent of Christmas. It was dark out, and the string lights Josh put up only the day prior glowed softly around the windows, casting gentle hues of gold across the countertop, where half-formed cookie dough balls lay in neat rows, each one a small promise of something delicious. 

You worked quietly, rolling the dough with care, feeling the slight stickiness against your fingers and the cold marble beneath your palms. The excitement simmered within you, a warmth that matched the glow of the holiday lights strung around the room. 

Hosting Christmas this year felt like the final step in making this place a true home. A haven where both your families could gather, laugh, and share in the joy of the season. The house felt different, as if it could sense the importance of the day, waiting to be christened by the presence of everyone you loved filling every room, breathing life into its walls. You could barely contain your smile as you worked, feeling the excitement of Christmas Eve, the weight of how much this meant, knowing everything had to be just right.

You were so absorbed in shaping each ball of cookie dough that you didn’t even notice Josh had come into the kitchen. Quietly, he strolled in, his footsteps soft against the floor, and started humming along to the next song playing from the record spinning in the corner.

“I’m… dreaming of a white… Christmas,” he sang, his voice deep and rich, filling the kitchen like warm velvet. Each note rang with a hint of his playfulness, a warmth meant only for you. 

Just as you were about to turn to him, his arms slipped around your waist, strong and secure, pulling you back against him. You felt the solid warmth of his chest pressing against your back, his steady presence grounding you even as his voice sent little shivers down your spine. He slotted himself against you just how you fit together, his head buried into the crook of your shoulder, and body pressed against yours like a lost mold.

“Smells delightful,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble that you felt against your neck as he leaned in. The tickle of his breath sent a shiver down your spine, one that had nothing to do with the cold marble or the winter outside.

“Yeah, the batch in the oven should be done soon, and then I can put these ones in,” you replied, holding back a grin as you felt his lips graze the side of your neck, trying your best to maintain your focus on the task at your fingertips.

He let out a quiet laugh, brushing his mouth against your ear, his breath warm as he whispered, “Not talking about the cookies, Babe.” His voice was thick with something darker, and his fingers began tracing small circles over your stomach, pressing you gently back against him. You felt his grin against your skin, and a laugh bubbled up from your throat as you leaned into him, savoring the warmth and feeling of him wrapped around you, grounding you.

He watched your hands move from over your shoulder and you tried to keep working, but his hands were in constant motion, exploring slowly, as if each curve and line of your body were new to him. His fingers found the small charm in your belly button, his touch light but familiar, until he stopped, his thumb lingering there as he leaned further forward just enough to see what he was feeling.

“New charm?” His question was soft but tinged with curiosity, his fingers still lingering over the tiny metal jewel.

You nodded, biting your lip as you kept shaping the dough, the calm rhythm helping you resist the urge to turn around and pull him to you. “Yeah,” you said, as nonchalantly as you could manage. “It’s a Christmas one. Saw it in the store and thought it would be festive, you know?”

Gently, his hands on your waist turned you around to face him and he peeked down, admiring the mistletoe charm glinting just beneath the hem of your shirt. He took his time, fingers grazing your stomach as he lifted your shirt just a touch to see it clearly, his brows lifting in appreciation.

He whispered, “Pretty,” letting the word slip between you like a secret. He looked up at you, his face so close that his nose brushed yours, and your breath caught as his lips hovered over yours, so close you could feel their warmth. You tilted toward him, waiting for that kiss, your pulse quickening as his eyes danced between your lips and your gaze.

But instead of closing the distance, he just grinned, his mouth curling in a way that told you he was in no hurry, savoring the anticipation that hung between you. With a little shake of your head, you pressed a hand to his chest, trying to keep a clear head, though every part of you wanted to give in. 

“Josh, come on, I have to finish these cookies. Tomorrow’s gonna be chaos enough,” you complained, spinning back around to the countertop.

He groaned softly, his hands sliding back to your waist, pulling you in even closer, pressing his chest to your back as he nuzzled into your shoulder. “I know, I know…” he murmured, his lips brushing over your neck in a way that made your skin tingle. “But you’re making it hard to think about cookies right now.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes as you resumed forming the dough. “Josh,” you warned.

His hands were restless, one hand trailing down your hip while the other found its way back to your stomach, his thumb brushing over the mistletoe charm again. He fell silent for a moment, as if deep in thought, until he finally spoke, his voice low and filled with a mischievous lilt.

“You know…” he murmured, his thumb still playing with the tiny mistletoe charm, “It’s traditional to kiss under the mistletoe.” He took a slow breath, his nose grazing your neck as he inhaled, and you felt him smile against you.

“Oh, I know,” you replied, “I bought some from the store the other day but haven’t had the time to put it up yet. I couldn’t decide which doorway to hang it in,” you explained, hoping for some input on the small but difficult decision. His fingers grazed the jewel again.

He made a sound of disapproval, low in his throat, and leaned in, letting his lips trail up to your ear. “Not what I meant, Baby.” His words were soft, but the intent was clear as his fingers found the mistletoe charm, nudging it gently. “This mistletoe, right here.”

Realization bloomed, and your cheeks flushed as you met his gaze over your shoulder, feeling a rush of warmth sweep through you. You hadn’t thought of it that way when you bought it— it was just a little festive accessory. His eyes sparkled with mischief, and you felt the weight of his gaze, his lips parted in a way that sent a thrill through you.

“You’ve got a dirty mind, Josh,” you murmured, a smile playing at your lips even as your pulse raced. “Creative, but dirty.”

Before you could say another word, he spun you around, his hands firm on your waist as his mouth crashed into yours, his kiss urgent and hungry. You felt yourself melting into him, your dough covered hands reaching up, one tangling in his hair, the other bracing against the edge of the counter as he pressed you back, the cold marble a sharp contrast to the heat of his body against yours.

Sensing your slight discomfort, he pulled back, his breaths coming in warm puffs against your skin, his hands sliding down to your waist as he lifted you with ease, setting your ass on top of the counter. 

You gasped softly, “Josh!” The cold countertop bit against the backs of your thighs, but you both knew the protest was half-hearted.

He just grinned, his eyes dark with intent as he took a step closer, his hands finding the hem of your shirt as he leaned in, pressing a kiss to your forehead before looking up at you with that signature smirk. “Gotta follow tradition, sweet girl. You know it’s bad luck not to kiss under the mistletoe,” he teased, his fingers grazing your hips, sliding down until they found the waistband of your shorts.

Your heart pounded as he looked at you, a hint of challenge in his gaze, and you let out a soft breath, relaxing under his touch as he slipped your shorts down your legs, assisted by the eager lift of your hips. When he saw the simple white panties beneath, his eyes flickered with hunger, his hands running over the tops of your thighs with reverence.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he whispered, voice rough, his hand coming to rest just above your knee as his other slid your panties down swiftly.

His warm hand found its place against your sternum, and he pressed a little bit of pressure against you. “Lay back,” he instructed. You eagerly did as he said, laying flat against the cold countertop, before propping yourself up on your elbows. You watched him, heart racing as he pressed a tender kiss to your belly button, lips brushing over the cold metal of the mistletoe charm. His touch was reverent, his eyes flicking up to meet yours as his mouth lingered there. This moment was suspended, just for the two of you.

Unable to resist, he placed a final kiss to the mistletoe charm, his tongue flicking over it before trailing down, his lips soft but insistent, making you shiver. You closed your eyes, letting the sensation wash over you as he moved lower, his hands steadying you as he settled himself between your thighs.

You felt his warm breath against your skin first, the heat of his lips leaving kisses in a slow, torturous line, and then one soft, slow kiss against your clit. 

You opened your eyes to watch him, already looking up at you as he held his puckered lips against you gently. He tenderly lifted his lips from your clit, and his tongue slipped over you, soft and gentle at first. You gasped, hands flying to the edge of the counter, gripping hard as he pressed deeper, his tongue exploring you with a hunger that left you breathless. 

His hands moved to the backs of your thighs, and he pressed forwards, folding you in half to expose your core to him further. He tasted you slowly, savoring each touch, each shiver he coaxed from you, his hands keeping you in place, pulling you closer to his mouth.

His tongue moved with practiced ease, dipping and swirling, and drawing your arousal along with it. 

“Josh,” you whimpered as his tongue settled against your clit, your body squirming against his mouth. 

Much to your dismay, his lips left your skin in a series of heated, lingering kisses before he slid his hands down the backs of your thighs, moving slowly, savoring every inch of you. His touch was deliberate, a gentle yet possessive warmth that sent tingles sparking through your skin. 

Before you even had a chance to catch your breath, he bent down, lifting your legs one at a time and draped them over his shoulders. His hands found your hips, fingers pressing firmly into the curves of your backside as he lifted your lower half from the countertop, only just, but holding you in place with a strength that left you breathless.

This new angle brought you even closer, your center now perfectly aligned with his gaze, your body fully open to him. His eyes were intense, dark with desire, and the sight alone made your heart race. He shrugged your legs higher, pressing the backs of your thighs against his shoulders, pulling you in even closer until you felt the warmth of his breath against your most sensitive skin, sending a shiver straight through you.

Without breaking his gaze, he leaned in and pressed another soft, searing kiss to your core, a promise that set every nerve alight, anticipation coiling within you.

Josh reluctantly broke eye contact with you, his eyes fluttering closed as he indulged himself in you again. His nose nudged against your folds as he dug in, tongue exploring you like uncharted territory. But you both knew it was anything but.

Josh had spent deliberate time memorising every crevice, every shape and contour of your body, and your cunt was no exception. 

He had once called going down on you his ‘pride and joy’, and despite your initial hesitation to the intimate act, his eagerness soon had you begging for it almost as much as him.

Josh dipped his tongue into your hole without hesitation, forcefully pulling you back to the present and ripping a gasp from your chest. You tossed your head to the side, eyes squeezing shut as you moaned, his tongue pulling your wet arousal from your centre up through your folds and over your clit. 

“Oh fuck, Josh,” you moaned, one hand reaching up to thread your fingers through his curls. Cracking your eyes open, you beheld the sight of him, devouring you mercilessly, short pants leaving his nose as he practically suffocated against your proximity.

Nevertheless, he shrugged you impossibly closer, the sharp tip of his nose pressing into your clit. Josh groaned when you bent a knee, wrapping a leg around his head in a desperate attempt to keep him right there, as his tongue flicked at your clit in expert speed. 

“Yes, Josh, don't stop. Please…” you babbled, words coming out breathlessly as your release crept up on you. Lowering your gaze slightly, you caught sight of Josh’s obvious erection tenting his jeans, being relieved only by his hips which grinded rhythmically into the edge of the countertop. 

The sight only sent another course of pleasure through you, knowing he was enjoying the moment as much as you. You could feel yourself unravelling, and his mouth was relentless, every kiss and every flick of his tongue driving you closer to the edge. You reached your spare hand out towards his groin, knuckles brushing the denim before your palm cupped him, hard and whole.

He groaned against you, and the vibrations made you yelp, tightening your hold on his hair. You ground the heel of your palm against him, revelling in the feeling of his hips bucking into your hand. 

You tried your hardest to offset your orgasm, but Josh's tongue was relentless, drawing you higher and higher, until you were trembling beneath him, your breaths coming fast and uneven. 

“Josh– I’m gonna… fuck, ‘m gonna cum,” you whined, and he hummed encouragingly against you, movements more deliberate than ever. Lost in the feel and energy of him, you surrendered, letting the love and heat and Christmas magic wrap around you like a warm, familiar embrace, knowing you were exactly where you belonged, in his arms.

Through your blinding orgasm, you didn't register Josh's hips stuttering against you, too consumed by the heat that shook you against his face. As your thighs relaxed around his head, he gently lowered your hips back to the counter, the cold marble an invited contrast to your burning skin. 

You sighed as you descended your high, Josh’s mouth leaving you in a series of hushed, sloppy kisses. 

You hummed, your hand falling from his hair to cradle his cheek, “I love you.”

The smile he sent you was full, warm and irrefutably happy. “I love you too, my beautiful, perfect girl,” he returned, each compliment accompanied by a kiss. At last, he pressed one last, deliberate kiss to your clit, before lifting his head from your cunt.

Your hand on his crotch began to move again, but he quickly brushed it aside, taking your hand in his and kissing the backs of your knuckles. 

“Your turn?” you asked, brows furrowed in confusion at probably the first time he had ever refused your touch. 

He shook his head, “No, I… it’s alright.”

You frowned, watching him cautiously, before your eyes dipped back to his crotch, now soft, with a small wet spot seeping through the fabric. Josh quickly covered himself with his hands in embarrassment as you barked out a laugh. 

“You did not finish in your pants,” you teased, sitting up and taking his flushed face between your hands. “Baby… I barely even touched you.”

He made an embarrassed groan of protest and threw his head out of your hold.

“Aren’t you supposed to be making cookies or something?” He rolled his eyes, hands still covering his happy accident. 

“I’m only joking, don’t be embarrassed,” you assured, taking his head again and kissing him on the tip of his nose, “Actually, I’m flattered,” you added with a small smirk.

“Yeah, yeah,” he joked, clearly still embarrassed, but relaxing in your hold, the familiarity of your touch keeping him from dwelling on it for too long.

Hands on the thick of your hips he leaned in again, lips brushing with yours before capturing you in a deep kiss. It was soft and gentle, and Josh pulled away not long after, “Merry Christmas, I love you,” he leaned back to peer down at your stomach, “And I love this too,” his thumb ran over the mistletoe belly button charm softly. 

You wrapped your hands around the back of his neck and pulled him back to you, resting your forehead against his, eyes lost in his loving stare. “I love you too, Merry Christmas.”

❆

Taglist: @freyjalw @psychedelectable

Complete the google form here to be added to my permanent taglist for any future fics!

[pickyourpoisonandevolve]

Thanksgiving Drabble w/ the 141 + Black Reader

Notes/warnings: just a fluff piece from me. I don’t know how to do drabbles/imagines but I SURE DO enjoy reading them and I have a brain baby to birth. Idk if this is TOO specific for a drabble but reader is black/female/american. Because those things aren’t often represented in these! And also I can do what I want at the end of the day. Just… just walk with me here.

The military is an easy place to forget that your squadmates are real actual people with families and backgrounds, on account of the inherent assimilation. Not that it wasn’t needed, but you get so busy creating your own language and communication styles that I think being able to express cultural habits and likes get a little seldom.

All that to say, you and Gaz LOVE to cook together, as it makes you nostalgic for your respective families. And you’ll be damned if these Brits make you skip Thanksgiving. The rest met your enthusiasm with “fucking Americans” but Gaz thankfully was more than happy to join you in the prep, you both bonding in hatred for the same old shit from the base kitchen. But most of the base is gone so you lot have the kitchen and common room to yourself, and that means you and Gaz are making a FEAST.

Pulling greens, the dishes that take 6-8 hours to make, the shit talking, the hyper specific recipes that you bicker about, the music played. You both are IN IT, and Johnny, Simon and Price didn’t have anywhere else to be, and are more than happy to eat what you make. (As they aren’t the most talented cooks of the bunch) Sausage rolls and chip buttys a Thanksgiving does not make.

It tickles the other three to walk by occasionally, listening to you to just… talk. And vibe. About old experiences, moving in tandem, bitching occcasionally. It had a spooky parallel to how you all worked in the field, seamlessly in sync, but the juxtaposition of it being wholesome. You all got to live in a temporary bubble of normalcy and domesticism. Like a big weird family, you could forget you all killed people for a living.

Price had shit to do, so he did flybys through the day, but they increased in frequency as it went on, his smile growing each time. His little grinch heart growing, seeing his team get along. You tossed cookies at him, hoping to get a rise out of him, but all you were met with was a “thanks, love” and a wink. You made a mental note to do that at a frequency of everyday forever.

Soap didn’t want to miss anything (or feel left out) so he kept to his favorite things: “watching TV” aka TikToks and passively watching a show, interjecting in conversations and stealing food when no one was looking. (Everyone was looking and he was slapped and yelled at A LOT)

Ghost was just unfamiliar with this intimate of camaraderie. He stopped in occasionally for tea, which Gaz and you started making for him. You could see his little eye crinkles as you prepared his tea just like he liked it.

Gaz and you started singing together as you plated the meal on the kitchen island. The rest of the team was holding a flight pattern in the common area, pulled in like the smell lines in an old timey cartoon, scotch already prepped and poured. But there was a moment where you two got swept up in your comfortability, and started singing in earnest. (This song in particular) You two didn’t make it a habit of getting too relaxed in front of the others, big tough soldiers and all, so this was a rare, near nonexistent sight.

Better days comin' for sure

If this world were—

If it was up to me

I wouldn't give these nobodies no sympathy

I'd take away the pain, I'd give you everything

I just wanna see you win, wanna see

If this world were mine

The three on the couch looked back with open mouths and smiles as you carried on. Literal years you all have worked together, how did they not know you two sang, and HARMONIZED? Did you practice?

You noticed first, brought back to reality and almost dropping a dish. Scandalized! Embarassed! Blushing furiously! Gaz thankfully was impervious to their bullshit, and told them to fuck off and come eat. Typical soldiers, couldn’t sit down proper for anything, food included, so you all settled into conversation and a full meal standing around the island. Enjoying the bubble, enjoying the peace, enjoying the moment.

Johnny, Price and Simon graciously offered to do dishes and clean. (Leftovers for days!) And after a while, you all dispersed. Soap stole a half of a pie and was inbound on falling asleep with his pants unbuttoned on the couch. Ghost was tactically figuring out how to look aloof and fall asleep on Soaps shoulder. Gaz had family (and a lady, you suspected) to FaceTime and Price hung behind you on the way to the barracks. Before you made your good nights, he offered to share a new bottle of bourbon his Nan sent in his room. Super casual. No pressure. Maybe he could hear your pretty voice sing just for him this time.

(This Drabble is sponsored by holidays, KDots new album, and an excuse to flirt with Price. Happy Thanksgiving, Americans are all on native land, and fuck Columbus)

[livelovecaliforniadreams]

(x)

[friendlyneighbourhoodelf]

do you ever think about music that is hundreds of years old that we still play/sing today. yeah. something something humans have always made art

[alarrylarrie]

.

[rotisseries]

"I can see will appreciating all types of music genres" well I cannot. peace and love<3

[thats-my-passion-right-there]

I finally saw the mean girls musical (the movie one) I have so many fucking thoughts oh my god

[caterpillarinacave]

my world has been flipped over

[ereborne]

Song of the Day: March 27

"Long Time Gone" by The Chicks