#n safe for work

[wardenannie]

Hi ani! I really miss your levihan fics a lot so I just thought I could maybe drop a prompt for you over here? No pressure if you don't wanna do it, tho, ofc.

So, the prompt would be:

Levi and Hanji end up having comfort sex after a meeting with military higher-ups goes terribly wrong. Hanji discusses over trains and helping develop technology in Paradis, but because they are not the traditional "cis-male" leader, the rests doubts them/puts their ideas down.

Then, when they return to HQ, Levi just fucks them to release the tension/frustrations.

Hope you like itt!

Love you and your writingg <3 <3

Hey friend! I don't really write Levihan anymore, but this prompt is so good I'll make an exception.

Friendly reminder to everyone reading this that my new Ao3 is sapphicoflight and you can find all of my Levihan works there, they are no longer associated with my previous username.

I hope that you enjoy this drabble!!

(NSFW obvs)

-

The infiltration into Marley was a no-go. The meeting with the brass had gone terribly, with the staunch, stubborn old men questioning Hange at every turn, every suggestion. At the slightest sign of weakness in the Commander they pounced, practically throwing the pair out of the room in flat in dismissal.

Hange was devastated and at a loss. Uncharacteristically silent as they and Levi mounted their horses in preparation to leave the capitol.

The uneasiness was palpable in the air between them. The stony silence speaking volumes where the Commander would not speak at all.

It was Levi who spoke first, once they had passed through the inner ring of the city, the dusty streets opening up some and giving him room to ride alongside his Commander.

"Hange..." he began, but he wasn't certain what to say. He wasn't particularly adept with words, and he didn't want to accidentally salt this obvious wound.

Hange shook their head, russet hair flashing like fire in the midday sunlight. They looked over to their captain, single eye alight with fury, but swirling within the wine colored depths of their iris there was also a great, deep sorrow. It shook Levi to see them so shaken.

"If I were a man-" Hange rasped, voice trembling with rage.

Levi swallowed thickly, "Yeah, probably."

Hange spat onto the ground, then dug their heels into their horse's sides, pushing the animal into a brisk trot.

Levi let them go ahead, thinking that some time alone might be in order. He wasn't usually of much help when it came to these sort of delicate matters. Sure, he'd known Hange for years now, he knew them inside and out. Backwards and forwards he could read them like a book. But in matters of gender, of how their sex and mind were misaligned, he was completely helpless.

It hadn't come up in quite some time. Not since before Erwin's death, actually. There hadn't been time to even think about such personal things as the tension with Marley mounted and Eren began to endeavor down a darker, ill-advised path.

But here it was, like it had always been there, lurking beneath the pristine surface of Hange's militaristic facade. It reared its ugly head once more, and Levi wasn't prepared in the slightest for its reemergence.

He wetted his lips, following after them at an ambling pace. Deciding what he would do when they met again at HQ. They would need to regroup, of course, plot another plan of action. But first Hange would need to soothe this fresh hurt; a scar reopened after so many years of mending.

"Tch," he tutted as a child ran across his path chasing a ball. She fell in the dirt on the other side of the road, squealing with delight.

Levi's mouth pursed and he looked away, his own heels now urging his mount forward at a brisker pace.

There was one thing he could do, he supposed. If Hange was amiable to the idea.

They'd come to an arrangement over the years of their partnership. One of... physical proximity and means. They were by no means lovers (except they absolutely were), and Levi derived no real affections from their exertions (except he absolutely did, he was simply unwilling to admit the depth of that emotion).

Sex was easy enough with Hange. They were attractive and coy when they wanted to be. Warm and wet. Body lithe and muscular and inviting. And their voice, he shivered thinking of their low, smooth tones guiding him towards-

Levi shook the thoughts from his head as he dismounted and left his horse to the stableboys. The last thing he needed was to be sporting an obvious erection through the halls of HQ.

When he arrived at Hange's office he did so as inconspicuously as he could manage. Slipping through the door on light feet and letting the latch click behind him. He stood with his back to the door, staring into the space which had once been so neat when Erwin occupied it.

It was trashed. Moreso than usual. It was like a tornado had swept through the room, throwing papers and books here and there and everywhere. The inkwell on Hange's desk was tipped over, a runnel of ink dribbling from the edge of the desk down onto the floor. The chair was tipped over as well.

It seemed as though Hange had passed over the room in their outrage.

"Four-eyes," Levi said with a sigh. He locked the door for good measure and crossed the room to stand in front of his Commander.

Hange shook their head, all of their rage having been exhausted in destroying the office. Now they simply looked bone-tired, with a deep dark circle punctuating their good eye, and defeated. They licked their chapped lips, resting a hand on the solid wooden desk to support themself.

"If I were just a man, Levi," they said, exasperation bleeding in their tone. "Then they might listen to me. Then they would listen to me."

Levi pursed his mouth, "Maybe. Or maybe they've just got shit for brains and it wouldn't matter either way."

"Either way," Hange laughed sardonically.

"You know what I mean."

They sighed, shoulder slumping. Levi righted their chair and they sat in it, pinching the bridge of their nose, "Yeah, I know..."

A beat of silence passed between them.

Then Hange made a pained sound, lip quivering slightly, "They just see me as a loud mouthed woman."

"You're loud-mouthed for sure, shitty-glasses," Levi reassured, "But you sure as hell aren't a woman."

Hange snorted, "Thanks for that vote of confidence, short stuff."

"It's what I'm here for."

Another beast of silence.

Levi kissed his teeth, glancing awkwardly around the room before he shifted forward with sudden intention. He caught Hange by the chin, angling their face upwards so it was mere inches from his own.

"Listen up, Hange," he intoned, low and hungry. The physical proximity was impacting him already. He hated to see them so upset, but he also knew exactly how to take that pain away, if only for a moment. "Those fat shithead bastards know fuck all about you."

"Oh?"

"They don't see what I see when I look at you," he said. "Maybe they do see a woman, but you know what? Fuck that shit."

Hange chuckled then, their breath tickling his lips, "And what do you see when you look at me, captain?"

"My Commander," the strongest person I know, he meant to say, but those words were too delicate, too close to his heart of steel. But Hange seemed to understand, and they saw no need for further preamble when they craned their neck upward and tugged him down by his collar, sealing their lips in a searing kiss.

Levi's steely eyes fluttered shut, and he leaned into the kiss, savoring the bourbon taste of Hange on his tongue. He cupped their cheek, then dropped his hand to grip their arm, pulling to their feet and breaking the kiss, but only for a moment as he shifted them and pushed them onto the desk.

He stood between their spread thighs, kissing them with thorough hunger. Heat pooled in his middle, seeping down into his loins where his cock began to stir.

When they parted again their cheeks were flushed, eyes hooded. Both of them tousled from the other's touch. Hange shurgged off their coat while Levi's fingers worked deftly at the buttons of their shirt. Once they were bare save for their breast bindings (which Levi dared not touch), he kissed their throat, their jaw, their collarbones. His fingers pulled at the button of their pants, and they dropped their legs long enough to let the fabric slide away along with their underthings.

"Fuck, Hange," Levi cursed as his fingers slid skillfully through their folds, finding their flesh hot and yielding and wet.

Hange grinned, scooting forward on the desk so that they were perched on the edge. Then they reached out, undoing the button on Levi's trousers.

His cock popped free, heavy and wanting, a bead of precum already pearling at the tip of. Hange gave him a few cursory strokes and he groaned throatily.

"There's the big guy," Hange teased, tugging him forward by his member, they stroked the thick head of him through their folds, wetting him and earning themself another low, needy sound.

"Sh-shut up, four-eyes," Levi rasped, eyelids fluttering at the sensation of his body pressed flush to theirs.

"Levi?" Hange's voice was suddenly pensive, and when he met their single eyed gaze he found their eye wide and uncertain. He backed off slightly.

"Yeah?"

"Thank you."

"Shut up," he seized their jaw in his hand and kissed them hungrily. With his other hand he aligned himself with their entrance and sank into their depths with a single thrust of his narrow hips.

They both gasped into the kiss; Levi at the tight, hot, wet depths of his Commander's pussy, and Hange at the sublime stretch of Levi's thick cock.

"Hnn," Levi sighed, setting a slow, easy pace. But it was still enough to earn him a few soft whimpers from his partner, who gripped his clothed shoulders tightly.

Hange pulled themself up as he worked into them, winding their arms around his neck and hiding their face in the crook of his shoulder. They kissed him there, tenderly as he fucked into them.

"Harder," Hange whispered sharply, raising their head head so their teeth grazed the shell of his ear. "Need it hard, Levi."

Levi grunted, acquiescing immediately. He seized their hip in one hand and leveraged himself against the solid wood of the desk with the other. Wet slapping sounds began to fill up the small room, mingling with their gasps and moans in a symphony that anyone beyond the door might chance upon.

Levi fucked Hange hard, and now it was his turn to hide his face in their neck as he rutted himself forward into their depths, feeling every rippling inch of them squeezing around his cock.

He gritted his teeth as he felt them beginning to tighten around him, a fresh wave of wet encompassing him, shining prettily on his shaft with each egress of his hips. Hange's moans turned into soft pleas, their ankles locking at the small of his back. Levi bit his tongue to distract himself from the orgasm that tingled at the base of his spine, tightening his balls and thickening his dick inside of them.

"Levi," they begged breathlessly into his ear. "Levi, Levi, Levi!"

Levi made a muffled sound of rumbling pleasure as Hange fell apart on him. Their seized into a vice like grip around his cock, drawing his own climax from him as Hange howled and pawed at his chest. White flashed behind his eyes and he bit his lip to keep from crying out in tandem with his Commander.

"Shit," Levi cursed as he blinked through the aftershocks. He swallowed thickly, slowly pulling his rapidly softening dick away from Hange. Flesh suddenly frightfully sensitive. He tucked himself away, taking deep calming breaths to steady himself.

Hange had reclined back onto the desk, fingers playing absentmindedly in the spilled ink, cum dribbling down their thighs.

They licked their lips, pupil still dilated with pleasure, "Thank you, Captain."

Levi grunted, "Anytime, Commander."

Hange sat up and pulled Levi into one, final hungry kiss. Then they parted, and began to right themselves.

And they slipped easily back into their stations as though nothing at all had transpired between them.

But Hange's anger and shame were entirely abated. Their wounds licked and soothed. And Levi's mood, the scouts would note, was surprisingly chipper for the rest of the day.

[hinamie]

alongside someone like you

[civetcider]

hello fellas! i have been a lil busy and haven't drawn too too much the past few weeks, but i did draw this butch alligator for my last drawing of the year so happy 2024 to ya

[stagefoureddiediaz]

We’ve been looking at this all wrong the entire time...

So my brain is a weird place that I don’t fully understand, but sometimes it connects dots and I figure something out that has been staring us in the face the entire time! Lets just say it explains so many things - right down to the very pointed use of tommy calling Buck Evan!

This all stemmed from me looking at colour theory and costuming for Buck and Eddie (and by extension Tommy) season 7 again, because I was going to try write the buddie costume metas for episodes 9 and 10 that I never managed to get done before we started season 8 I will hopefully get to those posts, but this post - while technically about Tommy and his costumes (yes me ant Tommy person writing a post on him I know!) it does also look at the costuming for Buck and to a lesser extent Eddie more widely across the season and what the colours used actually mean - getting some distance and some time on the season has been a blessing!

Im not going to go into it in detail, but, broadly speaking the show has given each character a signature colour - this doesn’t mean they wear it all of the time - but they do wear it a lot of the time and especially in key scenes - characters can have more than one key/ signature colour, and it can change and develop over time. We can ignore season 1 because it was a pilot season and very often shows won’t choose to establish a signature colour for a character (911 s1 is all over the place from a costuming perspective - because they had several designers working across the 10 episodes but since s2 we’ve had much more continuity with Alayna Bell-Price at the helm for most of it). So for example Athena’s signature colour is mostly black with white and khaki green also in the mix. She’s moved away from that subsequently - wearing less black and more white/creams but both colours are still staples of her wardrobe.

Eddie we all know mirrors Athena from a costuming perspective - his signature colours are also black and khaki green with some white/cream as well. The khaki green was much more dominant than the black to begin with - which played into his military past -  that had evened out on the black and khaki front whilst the cream had stayed fairly steady, but now we’re also starting to see a little bit more of it as well as some darker blues. this mirrors Athenas own journey t healing - the more she heals the less Khaki we see and the more white/cream - Eddie is starting to follow the same path from a costume perspective. 

Bucks signature colour has always been blue, but he also wears a fair amount of yellow and grey, so those are his three colours. He obviously wears a lot of other colours, especially white, but white has its own specific use in Bucks costumes that sits separately from his signature colours. 

We all know about yellow/ blue and green blue colour theory - I’ve gone on about it enough (especially yellow blue colour theory and its queer coding) and others such as @lover-of-mine have as well. Well both yellow/blue and green/blue continued to play out in season 7, I’m not going to go into them in too much detail - there are posts on my pinned post that cover that much better and I want to get to the good stuff (and I know you all do too!) 

We do need to remember that Buck and Eddie very very rarely wear blue and green in scenes together - if Eddie is in green Buck won’t be in blue, and vice versa - this is because of the ties to blue/green being Buck and Eddies break up colours - the colours they wear opposite their respective girlfriends when the relationships are ending. This is a little less set for Eddie - who actually wears white/cream much more when he’s ending relationships than blue or green - but the one time he has actively done the breaking up he was in green.

As I was starting to do a bit of work on the 7x9 and 7x10 metas, I ended up going back and looking over the Buck and Eddie costumes for the season as a whole, and how Tommy fit into all of that as well - as we’ve all been billing him as Eddie lite.

While I do still think there is an element of Tommy being Eddie lite, I don’t actually think that is what the show has been doing -that concept is a bit of a red herring. I’m sorry that this is likely to get a bit convoluted and wordy - but my brain is  still reeling and incoherent so bear with me - I hope it all makes sense.

Right this post is super long so the rest is going below the cut! I hope you enjoy!

Because I was looking for Eddie and Tommy parallels in the costuming for the season, I had been looking at the choice to put Eddie in red/black for his dinner date with Kim and Buck being in green for the scene at Bucks loft, and the fact that back in 7x04 Tommy had been dressed in the same colours - a red henley which was shot with black giving it a red/black colour way. I naturally started looking at the other Eddie - Tommy costume parallels - and there are plenty - lots of the khaki green we see Eddie in - playing into Tommys own military background.

These are Tommy’s scenes - where he wasn’t in uniform of some description (which is a good chunk of his scenes to be fair) 

7x04 

at the hangar - white tee, greenish stone coloured shirt and a tan jacket with stonewash jeans

at the court - light grey marl cut off hoodie and bright blue shorts

at Bucks loft - red/black short sleeve henley and stone wash jeans

7x05

at the restaurant -dark khaki green shirt (I would also like to point out the blue green colour theory here with the addition of tommy having a blue phone case - which is relevant later I promise!)

coffee meet up - light grey henley and navy blue hoodie with mid wash jeans

7x06

karaoke club - navy blue short sleeved henley

7x10

light grey marl tee and greenish denim shirt 

So what you can see from this is that besides the use of henley’s, the only time we get actually get direct reference to Eddies costuming is through the use of khaki green and his first outfit at the hangar. There is of course the direct parallel of the red/black colour way I spoke of before, but, beyond that if you look you’ll see that Tommys outfits actually parallel Bucks far far more. I would even argue the Henley’s are more similar to Buck than Eddie - because they are short sleeved and Eddies are invariably long sleeved.

Bucks colours are blue and grey - and so are Tommy’s - particularly in scenes that are 1-1 with Buck. What I’m trying to get at and will explain is that this has never ever been about Tommy being Eddie lite - this is all about Tommy being Buck - Buck’s subconscious if you will. (I know you all this I’m completely mad at this point - but stick with me!) I have a lot to say about all of this which will explain the why of it all and how we ended up here so we’re going to go through it Tommy costume by Tommy costume!

Lets start with the hangar scene - the most Eddie like Tommy looks throughout the entire season. this is very much intentional - this is about the red herring of it all, but it is also about Eddie (I’m not discrediting anything we’ve talked about regarding Tommy being Eddie lite etc - it is all relevant - but that’s what makes it such a good red herring!) and about Buck being an unreliable narrator. This is in part why we also still see Buck in his too short trousers and his white sneakers. This is his journey (the sneakers), but he’s still trapped in his old self at this moment in time - but aware that he doesn’t fit his skin anymore (as an aside I will be writing a post about Bucks trousers and their changing fit throughout the seasons at some point soon!)

Script wise the key lines are plentiful - the entire scene is full of double meaning. We get Buck stating that he is ‘happy where he’s at’ and Tommy’s response of ‘you’re thinking of changing things up’. viewed through the idea that Tommy is a version of Buck, this then plays out as an internal conflict - a battle about wanting what you already have - being happy with what you have, but also wanting to change things.

Eddie saying ‘you aren’t thinking of leaving us are you’ and Bucks response ‘I’m keeping my options fluid.’ Eddie needing reassurance that what they have isn’t going to change, while Bucks reply is about him not really being sure of himself - of who he is - keeping his options open because he’s figuring out if he wants to change - the line is said to and directed at Eddie so its about Buck keeping his options open about possibly changing their dynamic - becoming something more, even in the face of Eddie not wanting things to be different.  Tommy stating in this scene that Buck doesn’t need to leave the 118 to get certified to fly - that its something he could do for fun on his days off - becomes even more loaded through the internal monologue lens - Buck considering how he can stay at the 118 and have the joy, fun and benefits of ‘flying’ when he isn’t at work - that he could fly with Eddie (Eddie going flying with Tommy to do something fun and date like is a very literal visual metaphor for Bucks internal monologue - showing him what it could be like if he changed things up). There not being three tickets - only two is also important - its again a metaphor this time about how if Buck and Eddies relationship changes - it would only change for the two of them - it would become a relationship that doesn’t have room for another in it. When I say that’s about Chris not being involved it sounds really harsh, but the reality is Chris cannot be a a part of Buddie - he cannot be a part of something romantic. it isn’t saying Chris isn’t important or central to Buck and Eddie - simply that he cannot be a factor in a romantic relationship - that has to be just between Buck and Eddie alone - its kind of about Eddie (and also to a certain extent the same is true for Buck) not being able to hide behind Chris anymore when it comes to Buck.

Fundamentally its all tied back to his death in season 6 (we even get the being struck by lightening reference from Buck just to bring that aspect home) and subsequent resurrection and rebirth  (post linked on my pinned post if anyone wants to read it!). we have to keep at the front of our minds that Buck has died and that is still playing on his mind - its still influencing who he is and who he is becoming and it was all throughout season 7 - even if it wasn’t obvious or stated.

The basketball costume is actually the one that has always stood out for me - Its the most Buck outfit of all Tommys outfits. The bright blue shorts especially. 

So in that scene, which we know is supposed to read as being from Bucks view point, not only are we getting golden haloed super happy bouncy Eddie - Eddie the way Buck sees him -  but Buck is also projecting and seeing Tommy in the place he (Buck) has always existed in. It’s a visual representation of what Buck talked about with Maddie and Tommy replacing him in Eddies life.  Its unreliable narrator buck in visuals he’s seeing Eddie replacing him with Tommy - occupying the same places Buck has and more - from the calendar to the basketball court.

But that’s actually wonderful, because not only does it give us information on how Buck views himself (as expendable/replaceable) and how he thinks others view him - because if he thinks he’s similar to Tommy (which for a purely visual stand point he is - Lou looks more like Oliver than Ryan) but it also gives us information about the reality of how much Buck is actually intwined in Eddies (and Christophers) life - its telling us that Buck is in fact on Eddies calendar (and therefore fridge - fridge magnet theory for the win!) and how much space and conversation he occupies in the Diaz’s everyday life.

So he isn’t actually seeing Eddie in Tommy at all - he’s actually seeing the version of himself he doesn’t think he is but wants to be in Tommy. The version of himself that takes Eddie to vegas etc - that’s the Buck that Buck wants to be - the one openly flirting with Eddie and taking him on dates etc. That’s why the vegas fight is so seemingly ott (especially when you think about the fact Tommy and Eddie have known each other a week or so at most by this point) its the grand gesture Buck wishes he could be making.

All of this also makes Bucks ‘attack on Eddie’ more telling (it’s still the boy pulling the girl he likes pig tails in the playground concept) because Eddie is being receptive to all of these advances by Tommy - adding further weight to the Buck being jealous of and threatened by Tommy. 

Tommy is this version of Buck swooping in and doing all this stuff that Buck wants to be doing (subconsciously still at this point - willful ignorance be winning) but either didn’t know how to or didn’t know Eddie if would be receptive to. Remembering that this is all Bucks viewpoint of things its essentially Bucks brain showing him what dating Eddie would be like and Buck being Buck misunderstands what his brain is telling him (forever misunderstanding the assignment).

There is a second aspect to this and it ties into Tim’s comments about the hamster wheel Buck has a been stuck on and it being time he got off it - the hamster wheel is actually multifaceted and has more than one meaning. The most important is that the hamster wheel hasn’t ever been about his relationships or about the women he’s dating (or men now). The hamster wheel he’s stuck on is actually the fact that he’s built this strong relationship and family with Eddie and Chris - (you don’t find it son you make it) and its something safe and stable and predictable in his life. Getting off that hamster wheel is about being brave and moving that relationship - that family dynamic onto the next level - removing the platonic aspect of their family and making it a fully formed family for real - romantic love and all - so the ‘platonic’ family is the hamster wheel he actually needs to get off of. 

The other aspect of Tommy actually being Buck and the hamster wheel of it all is that hamster wheels are solitary pursuits - the implication is that Buck is the one standing in his own way - and coming back to the basketball game we see that played out in the moment where Buck tries to literally run through Tommy - only you can’t act out at yourself, and Tommy is a literal solid unmoving barrier and Buck won’t get past himself by just trying to bulldoze his way through.

This all then plays into the final Buck and Tommy scene of the episode - in bucks loft. I already spoke above about the red/black of it all, but now with the added concept of Tommy being A version of Buck things start to become more interesting. The red/black of it all is a warning (and the poker date red/black velvet suit and eddies red and black suit from s6 actually play into this as well!) - its dark romance - ‘forbidden’ dangerous romance or love. So for Eddie and his date with Kim that meaning is very self explanatory. The two season 6 suits are also fairly self explanatory - for Eddie again its the dangers of looking for romance that isn’t on your own terms and for Buck at the poker game its about the danger of falling in love with the person you are when you aren’t being truly yourself. Tommy being a version of Buck and this concept is a little more murky - essentially is about a similar thing to his poker suit - with a twist - its about the danger of seeing more value and loving a version of yourself that ‘used to exist’ as well as a version of yourself that you think will make you more attractive to others.

We do also need to Talk about Bucks costume here as well - the fact that it fits him almost perfectly - he’s in well fitted if slightly loose jeans and a navy shirt that isn’t tight with buttons not clinging on for dear life (to the same extent). The colouring is still on the dark side - so its not entirely positive - much in the same way that other scenes with buck in a dark navy shirt are moments where things go a bit askew for Buck (think the  taylor ‘I kinda love you for it’ scene from s5 as an example). The implication is that - before Tommy comes along Buck is at his most content with who he is - he’s fitting into his skin better than he has in a long while but it’s not perfect. This is key, firstly because of how the scene unfolds and secondly, because of how he is then costumed from here on out for the rest of the season.

I do also want to mention the yellow blue colour coding in this scene and that is mostly done through the lighting - Buck is in blue and the light behind him is always yellow - he is surrounded by yellow light. In contrast - Tommy is barely touched by the yellow light - not until Buck starts to figure things out - then we get him briefly touched by the yellow light - the rest of the time he is lit very cooly - which is in contrast to the warmth of the loft - and further plays into the idea of Tommy being a stand in for Evan - Evan who isn't loved and accepted in the same way Buck is - Evan who Buck needs to learn to love.

If we look at the script for this scene, it also fits in perfectly with the idea of Bucks internal monologue.  Tommy and Eddie being ‘buddie’s’ making perfect sense is a literal aside to the audience telling them that Buddie makes perfect sense - but it is more than that. This is where I have to bring up the ‘Evan’ of it all. I know a lot of us shudder with horror because of the fact Tommy only ever calls Buck ‘Evan’ and how both jarring and rude it is. How it shows how little Tommy knows Buck. We’ve always known it was being done intentionally. Well, if we view the use of Evan through the lens of Tommy being a version of Buck and things become clearer.  Because Tommy is basically the old version of Buck - the Buck who existed before he knew Eddie - before he joined the 118. And this is where the choice to bring back Tommy specifically for this role becomes a really smart one - because ‘Evan call me Buck Buckley’ was Tommys replacement at the 118. Tommy who has a problematic past that has never been dealt with on screen. This isn’t about the nature of the problematic past. This is the show playing on the idea of Buck’s software upgrades - before Buck 1.0 there was Evan, and using who Buck replaced at the 118 as a plot device to actually dig into Evan more so that Buck can deal with, accept and move on from Evan and become who Buck is meant to be.

Tommy saying he couldn’t replace Buck furthers this - because Buck cannot go back to being Evan - Evan can never replace Buck. invoking Christopher adds weight to this - because Chris never knew Evan - he’s only ever known Buck and Buck is ‘his Buck’ and irreplaceable. Tommy then stating his jealousy is about Evan feeling the lack of family that he grew up with - the recognition that as Buck he has made a family for himself - Bucks assertion that Tommy (Evan) was a part of it is valid - because without Evan Buck couldn’t build the family he has. The entirety of this conversation is about Buck choosing to ‘get to know’ his past (remember this is coming of the back of Buck crossing out the ‘LEY’ on his nameplate in s6 and his struggles with his parents acceptance in that season before the lightening strike), choosing to learn about Evan and embrace him as a part of Buck.  

Bucks assertion that he was ‘trying to get [Tommys] attention and it being exhausting’ is part of that as is the confusion Tommy expresses. The choice for Buck to use the word ‘exhausting’ - it’s Bucks subconscious trying to get his own attention - its his subconscious telling Buck that he’s exhausting himself by not listening to what his inner voice is saying. It’s of course a play on Buck being called exhausting by other people (and is perhaps why he doesn’t have the confidence to listen to that inner voice) and that also plays into the Evan of it all and how Buck views himself. Tommys confusion also plays into that - bucks own mind is confused - it was getting ready to ‘pursue’ Eddie but now we’re pivoting into what is essentially self love.

The continued bringing up of Eddie also makes sense with the contact of Tommy being alt Buck - because Eddie Eddie Eddie fills Bucks heart and mind - Both Evan and Buck recognise Eddies importance if not his full relevance in this moment. The resulting kiss then becomes less about Bucks bi awakening (I am not diminishing the importance of that in any way shape or form - its a vital aspect of Bucks journey) and more about Bucks decision to pursue loving himself - this ties into his statement ‘it wasn’t about me wanting to leave the 118 - it was about wanting to get to know you’ - its about Buck wanting to get to know himself - on the other side of his death and resurrection. It’s a continuation of his comments about Natalia ‘seeing him perhaps better than he sees himself’ - it’s about Buck starting to see himself better now he’s died and essentially been reborn and bout Buck now being in a place where he feels ready to confront that idea of being reborn and becoming someone new.

At the restaurant in 7x05 we have Tommy in an Eddie colour, but in a shirt that is much more Bucks style. There is also the green/blue colour play with Tommy stating Buck isn’t ready and Tommys ‘mismatched’ clothing bears that up - the play is on Bucks lingering confusion and uncertainty about what he wants - is it the Eddie side of things we’re pursuing the self love of Evan aspect we’re looking to explore? The entire scene is not just about Bucks first ‘date with a dude’ its also about Bucks fumbled attempts at self love - at not getting it right - its why Bucks outfit doesn’t fit him- why they’re now too big and baggy (I wrote about this in my costume meta for that episode - which like all the other costume posts can be found linked on my pinned post).  The innuendo about closets and Buck going into masculine bro mode is as much about his nervousness about being on a date with Tommy and being seen as it is about the fact that a man practicing self love is still taboo and so often met with derision - hiding that you are pursuing that is a kin to hiding queerness - at the start - until you get to a good place with it.

We side step into the Buck and Eddie loft scene briefly to look at Bucks confession to Eddie - I could write a whole thing on Eddies acceptance of Buck and its importance - but that is for a different post that isn’t already a million words long! what I want to mention in this scene is the why Buck can’t stop thinking about Tommy of it all - how it is essentially establishing the idea that Buck is starting to listen to himself.  He can’t stop thinking about Tommy because it isn’t Tommy he can’t stop thinking about it’s actually himself - Evan - in a learning to love himself and embrace who he is and was kind of way - all being done through a bi lens. it is essentially about Buck doing the thing he needs to do to be ready for a forever relationship with Eddie - which is love and accept himself - all of himself and acknowledging that to Eddie.

Buck switches back to better fitting clothes for the coffee date - and tommy is now dressed back in Buck colours and no trace of anything resembling Eddie in sight - making it clear that Buck has chosen to pursue himself. To get himself to the place he needs and wants to be first - the line about not knowing what it is he’s ready for but being ready for something is key - its a very self love line, but it also puts a very clear time frame on things - it makes it clear that Tommy is not endgame - because Bucks choosing self love and embracing and understanding ‘Evan’ isn’t his end game but a part of his bigger journey - a part of becoming who he needs to be to achieve what he actually wants - to get him to his endgame.

Then we have the Karaoke - brief scene(s). There isn’t really a huge amount in these scenes. But I do want to point out two things - the awkwardness of Buck and Tommys hug - and how that plays into the tentative nature of Bucks self love journey - and also Eddies behaviour towards Tommy - and the way it was very very clearly a lot cooler than we saw in 7x04.

We all jumped on the Petty Eddie train - and I agree there is an element of that. But - there is also the fact we are not seeing that scene through Bucks eyes - its through external eyes and we are therefore seeing the actual reality of Eddie and Tommys friendship - in that it isn’t this heightened date like - flirty new love type relationship - its simply two people who are loosely friends. Its remarkably normal and no threatening - only furthering the entire purpose of 7x04 being from Bucks viewpoint and Tommy being an alt Buck rather than an alt Eddie. It also therefore serves to further establish the Buddie of it all (but we all already knew that!). Tommy is still in Buck colours and the short sleeved henley is still something I would put more into the Buck costume camp than the Eddie one - especially in this season! 

The final Tommy scene and costume is the date at Bucks loft and the conversation about daddy kink. I still don’t like this scene (which has a lot more to do with execution and the script than the actual daddy kink of it all) but I am much more sanguine about it now that I understand what it is setting up.

Bear with me here I probably won’t make sense, but with the knowledge that Tommy is actually buck lite - a less good and developed version buck (Evan and in part the version of Buck that Buck himself thinks he is) the daddy kink scene actually becomes about setting up Buck addressing his past and his actual real daddy issues - because bucks past self sees his worth in those issues and without them it means both Evan and Buck have no worth. Buck confronting and dealing with them and choosing to forgive and move on means the end of Buck and Tommy because Tommy is no longer needed - he has served his purpose and Buck would be ready to start his future - Evan stays in the past and Buck completes his rebirth and closes his lightening strike arc.

Onto Bucks season 8 journey - Bringing Gerrard in to Bucks arc rather than the others who have far more connection to Gerrard now begins to make much more sense. Tommys past under Gerrard actually echoes Bucks past - in different ways and to vastly different degrees, but the parallel is there.  S1 Buck being a play boy and sleeping around and not treating women especially well (objectifying them etc) because of his own hang ups - is a pale echo of Tommy being closeted and racist sexist and homophobic under Gerrard. Like I said before - Buck is a pale imitation to Tommy here and that’s intentional (more in a sec) because once Tommy is under the wing of Bobby when he takes over the 118 we see him begin to grow and change. Buck follows the same pattern - Bobbys guidance pulls him away from his destructive behaviours and sets him onto the right path (Bobby is arguably the birther of Buck - Look I could write a whole thing off the back of my death and resurrection of Buck post about Bobbys role as God - the heavenly father - in Bucks life and how that is the overarching theme of Bobby and the show but I don’t have the time tbh!) to ‘redemption’.

Bucks behaviour is very intentionally not as bad as Tommys behaviour, because if Tommy is the plot device meant to essentially represent Bucks subconscious and how he views himself, then the reason we haven’t been shown Tommy atoning for any of his past sins and behaviours is because Buck hasn’t forgiven himself for his own. Buck is his own worst critic and will self flagellate to a ridiculous degree - and again with him being an unreliable narrator - he views his past indiscretions as being the equivalent of Tommys - therefore in his mind he hasn’t yet done enough to deserve absolution (Buck and Bobby being father and son in this as well!). 

Which brings me to s8 and the return of Gerrard and what Bucks arc is going to be (this is slightly incoherent and not fully formed - I’m still percolating!). Gerrard being central to Bucks arc - and Bucks push back is imo going to be about Buck taking a good look at himself and recognising/ facing up to and accepting his past. And that actually does come down to the daddy issues of it all. Because if Bobby is as good as Bucks dad - and allowed him (and his subconscious in the form of Tommy) to develop and grow - then Gerrard is Phillip Buckley (obviously a heightened more terrible version of reality in the same way Tommy is a much worse version of Buck) who parented Evan through apathy and taking the easy route - we saw Evan pushing back against Phillip in Buck Begins and being rewarded for it and thus establishing Bucks self destructive and self sacrificing pattern of behaviour. Acting out and getting hurt got him attention - so Buck acting out against Gerrard is this reduced and will ultimately have the same results just in an essentially more destructive way.  This is is a good thing - because this is about Buck recognising that he is worth and acting out etc is detrimental to him progressing as a person - its going to actively prevent his self love journey to flourish (and this is why in part I maintain my belief that Tommy is going to, if not encourage Bucks behaviour, then at least tell him to go along with Gerrard demands - for an easy life and also part of why I don’t think we’ll see a huge amount of Tommy - at least to begin with - until we get to a point where Buck is really motoring on the self love journey and getting to the point where he needs to do some pre break up face to face conversations that move him forward!).  It’s about forgiving and accepting his father for how Evan was raised - Bucks arc is going to be about forgiving himself and allowing himself to be happy, and he cannot do that if he doesn’t go through the Gerrard stuff - which is essentially a type of therapy. That’s also where I think the golf comes into it - it’s a metaphor for Buck building bridges, gaining understanding and accepting his past with his father - the metaphor of the driving range being the idea of standing side by side and performing the same thing, but landing in different places. There is also the concept of improving ones self and choosing to not repeat the mistakes of the past.

It also means the thing Tim said about Buck and Tommy becoming more comfortable with one another makes much more sense, and why he’d flip the question to talk about Eddie and about Eddie feeling a bit left out in the cold but not out in the cold! Buck is becoming more comfortable with himself and while he’s doing that and learning to be happy etc as I described above. Eddie is going to feel left out - because this is about Buck not Eddie - because it’s about Buck being ready for forever with Eddie - and Eddie ultimately cannot be a part of that journey - Buck has to do it for himself in the same way that Buck cannot help or be there while Eddie goes through his reckoning with the Catholic Church, and faiths place in his life and also dealing with the ghost of Shannon and his mother issues(because he has those and they are all set up to go in s8 - Chris being in Texas really sets that up nicely!

Bahaha Tim I’ve finally figured out your question answering methods and how they tell us all we need to know!! 

All this to say - Tommy is actually alt Buck - not Eddie lite (I mean he is still also that but it’s a bit of a red herring) he is a plot device for the biggest thing about Buck as a character and it all means Buddie here we come!

Thank you so so much if you have read this epic piece of waffle - I hope you enjoyed and I truly look forward to hearing all your thoughts on this and to you being as insane about it as I am!

Tagging some people who asked (and some who didn’t but might be interested anyway!)

@spotsandsocks @exhuastedpigeon @lover-of-mine @fruityfirehose @leothil

@bewitchedbewilderedbisexual @theladyyavilee @livingwherethesidewalkends @craigyxo

@izzysbeans @buddiediaz118 @inell @hotshotsxyz @winterskydragonx

[toshidou]

don't mind me, i'll just be sat here crying into my hands about girl dad!simon "ghost" riley who would do absolutely anything for his daughters.

girl dad!simon who watches with a fond smile as his children fail to mask their giggles from underneath the sofa, their little legs sticking out very obviously from their "hiding place" but acting as though they're nowhere to be found.

girl dad!simon who lets them apply the black smudging around his eyes, praising them with how gentle they're being, and only huffing out a laugh when he feels his youngest smear charcoal fingerprints down his cheeks.

girl dad!simon who always has time to play with his girls, going along with whatever game their imaginative minds conjure with not a single complaint. over the years, you've walking in on simon as a horse, a robot, a fairy godmother (you will never get the imagine of simon with one of your elasticated waist dresses on out of your head, the material fighting for its life to stay in one piece as simon merely stares at you, silently pleading you to not take any photos), there is nothing he won't do to make them happy.

girl dad!simon who never once hesitates to scoop them into his arms at the first sign of tears, battled scared and inked hands holding his daughter so carefully, though she was made of porcelain, rough fingers gently swiping across ruddy cheeks, "you're okay, sweetpea, it's just a little scrape, yeah? my brave girl can handle a tiny scratch like that no problem, ain't that right?"

girl dad!simon who has a photo of you and your daughters tucked safely in his pocket at all times, all his favourite people on one small piece of paper he keeps safe over his heart whenever he has to leave, making sure it never leaves his mind that 'this is who he's fighting for, this is who he's working so hard to get back to'

girl dad!simon who try as he might, always tears up when he finally arrives back, and hears his little worlds sprinting at him as fast as their stubby legs can carry them, screeching cries of "daddy, daddy, daddy's home!" echoing through the walls of his home, arms wide as he crouches on the floor and feels their small but mighty weight crash into him, finally whole, finally complete, watery eyes meeting yours where you lean against the wall, similarly emotional.

"welcome home, si."

finally, home.

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

THE GREEN IN YOUR EYES MAKES ME FEEL WARM INSIDE ; MEGUMI FUSHIGURO

synopsis; in the comfort of a familiar bookstore, you find a boy. a pretty boy, who’s always reading, who doesn’t speak unless he has to. you’d like to get to know him — and maybe you will.

word count; 4.6k

contents; megumi fushiguro/reader, gn!reader, fluffy!!, lots of pining from afar, bookstore au, no curses au, reader is an overworked student bc uni is beating my ass, gumi is kind of awkward but hes cute <3, gojo mentioned twice (stay safe), can u tell im excited for christmas … :'3

a/n; bookstore employee gumi who hates every single customer except for you is so real to me

(@riaki its here …🙇‍♂️)

he’s there again. 

with a decisive step forward, you drag the door open, and the flutter of a bell resounds throughout the bookstore. a precious little jingle, alerting him of your presence. 

the boy at the counter gives you a glance. his navy eyes settle on your bundled up figure, and a flicker of familiarity blooms in the scope of his iris, a kind of recognition. something that makes your heart feel like a clumped up little ball of snow. 

(oh. it’s you.

you can almost hear the silent words fall past his lips.)

it only lasts for a second, barely even that, your gazes overlapping — then he’s back to reading. 

today, you recognize the book in his hands. the hardcover looks just a tiny bit worn, but still well taken care of. well-loved. and it’s a pretty rendition; a butterfly just above the title, snakes crawling on either side, vines stretching out across the scope of the image. there’s a kind of mystique to it. pretty.

wuthering heights, you read off the cover.

a little odd, in hindsight. you’ve only ever seen him read nonfiction. maybe he decided to broaden his horizons?

after a brief moment’s contemplation, your feet begin to move. taking another small step forward, inching closer, while the door falls shut behind you. blocking out the snowfall and colourful lights illuminating the street. 

mitten-clad hands go to brush stray snowflakes off your shoulders, as you shift from foot to foot, halfheartedly attempting to warm up your numbed toes. wallowing in the atmosphere of the cozy little bookstore; breathing in the smell of peppermint, the hint of freshly brewed coffee. from the boy, you assume — he’s got his usual mug on standby, a cute little black dog etched into the ceramic. steam rises from it, floating up into the air, and a fragrance of espresso wafts throughout the store.

low christmas music plays from the speakers, barely audible. pleasing to your sensitive ears and tired mind. it’s the usual mix of well-loved songs, for the most part, but then some you haven’t heard before. you can only assume he picked them out himself; pretty instrumentals, or low, gravelly voices, adding to that particular atmosphere simmering around you. nostalgic, a little melancholic.

the boy behind the counter looks angelic. 

he always does, when he’s reading — and he usually is. gentle, in the way he turns the pages, awfully delicate, keeping them still between his thumb and forefinger. lips pursed, brows just a tiny bit furrowed. concentrated, immersed. dark eyes trailing over the tiny letters, scanning the ink of the paper, twisting the syllables inside his mind. almost tasting them on his tongue, with the way he wets his lips. they look a little chapped.

for some reason, the sight seems to render you sort of speechless. frozen. like he’s a pretty bluebird seated on your windowsill, chirping softly in the wake of morning, and you’re afraid of scaring him away.

— his eyes meet yours, and you visibly stiffen.

it’s smooth, the motion of his hands. how swiftly he flicks the book shut, placing it face down on the counter with a twitch of his lithe fingers. not before slipping a pretty bookmark in between the pages, lilac-coloured, with flowers embroidered into the silky texture. you wonder if he made it himself. 

his voice spills out into the air, a little raspy. deep, but velvety, sending shivers down your spine. he clears his throat, and you watch his adam’s apple bob. ”do you need anything?”

a second passes. 

it catches you off guard, the mellow sound of his voice. when you’re so unaccustomed to hearing it. excluding the brief words you’ve exchanged paying for your novels, you’ve only heard it a select few times — mostly from afar, not-so-sneakily listening in on his conversations with the pink haired boy and pretty girl who sometimes come in and never look at any of the books. 

(there’s the tall guy with the not-so-seasonal sunglasses, too. but when he enters the store, all you pick up on are usually grumbles and threatening hand gestures.)

but now, that low, low voice is directed at you. 

it can’t be good for your physical health. or mental, for that matter. you’re not sure you remember to properly breathe, and you’re almost certain hearts aren’t supposed to flail the way yours is right now. 

when the boy behind the counter tilts his head, just by a hair, you’re finally snapped out of your little trance. stumbling for something to say, stuttering out a response, your hands grip at the insides of your pockets.

”well, um — i’m looking for a book.”

a moment passes. the song coming from the speakers changes into an instrumental, kind of jazzy. it’s nice.

”… a specific book,” you elaborate, under your breath. gnawing at your bottom lip, feeling a bit of heat on your ears. clearing your throat, as you step forward, tearing your mittens off with your teeth.

searching for a certain image, your numbed fingertips begin to tap at the cold screen of your phone. the warm air of the bookstore envelops your chilled knuckles, and a shiver runs through them.

the boy watches, silently, as you get closer. 

you don’t notice him glancing at your reddened hands, and when you look up to see a glimmer of something displeased in his eyes, you only assume it’s because you’re taking too long. speeding up slightly, you hear a low click of his tongue. his back straightens.

when he gets up from his chair, you notice that he's tall. you don’t think you’ve ever seen him do anything but sit behind the counter with a book in hand, either reading his own or scanning a customer’s. 

and, upon closer inspection — he’s maybe just a little bit too pretty for words. smooth, pale skin, a sharp jaw and defined cheekbones, dark eyes that hide a subtle kind of softness. pierced ears, a glimmer of silver on his earlobes, same as the rings on his bony fingers. his nails are painted black, a little chipped. and he’s wearing a big, bright green christmas sweater; one you really can’t imagine him picking out on his own, if his previous all-black turtlenecks and gray sweaters are anything to go by. 

while you fumble with the phone in your grasp, the pads of his fingers go to silently tap at the edge of the counter. a rhythmic motion; forefinger, middle finger, ring finger, over and over again.

it’s a little bit distracting. when he moves his hand a certain way, his big sweater sleeve rides up just a tiny bit, showing off the blue veins of his inner wrist. you think you catch a glimpse of a mole or two on his pale skin, and you swallow down a gulp, feeling a little like a victorian man seeing a girl’s ankle.

and then finally, you locate the image in question. swiftly showing him the cover of the book you were assigned to read. he squints a little, blinking drowsily, a flutter of his pretty eyelashes that has your heart skipping a beat. 

you clear your throat.

”i’m supposed to read it before christmas break, but i couldn’t find it at our library…” you tilt your head, a little sheepish. ”do you have it here?”

he stares at the screen for just a second more. then he’s angling his head to the left, finger pointing towards a corner of the store. ”it should be over there,” he hums. monotone.

a tentative smile forms on your lips. you thank him, and his eyes find yours.

all he does is shake his head, softly, brushing you off — a silent don’t worry about it. maybe a tad gruff, but you sense an acute gentleness to it. something tender, kind of. or maybe you’d just like to believe the kindness you sense in his eyes is real, more than just a delusion. 

but you don’t have time to dwell on it. the boy behind the counter goes back to reading, cradling the spine with his pretty hands. when he tries to grab the handle of his mug, one of the rings on his fingers knock against the ceramic, and he clicks his tongue in annoyance. 

you go to hunt down your own book, still thinking about his voice, how it trickled like honey from out his lips. 

the bookstore is entirely empty, tonight. no loud noises drilling into your groggy brain, no people to chatter amongst themselves and disrupt the illusion of peace you gain when you spend time here. a tiny respite, from your studies, from the stress and fatigue that you’ve come to associate with winter. hunting for christmas gifts, finishing late assignments, trudging through the snow. pretending that you have it all together.

but here, none of that matters. 

a sense of calm washes over you, as your eyes trail over the books by the science fiction section, and a soft sigh tumbles from your throat. gradually, your hands begin to warm up, and you look out the window.

outside, the world is blanketed by a veil of snow and frost, pure whites and murky grays as far as the eye can see. falling down to earth, smothering everything in a bitter chill. a cold, cold embrace. but when looking at it like this, from inside a cozy bookstore, with a pretty boy by the counter…

it's a breathtaking sight. 

little snowflakes descending, dancing in the wind. desaturating your world. if you close your eyes and focus, you think you can almost feel the wind nip at your fingertips, almost taste the fragrance of dried tea leaves and caramel fudge from the tiny shop across the street. almost bask in the green and red of the decorative lights in the skeletal trees, illuminating the city, buzzing with artificial warmth.

(your heart feels light.)

it doesn’t take long for you to find the book you need. keeping it safe and warm between your arm and torso, you walk back to the counter, gaze still lingering on the windowpane. the little snowflakes fluttering about, the glimpses you catch of passerby and their knit scarves in the darkness of the winter evening.

the boy behind the counter is as efficient as ever. he takes the book, fingertips resting exactly where yours just were, and scans it in a matter of seconds. you pay, and he puts it in a plastic bag, handing it to you — all while his copy of wuthering heights sits on the counter, pointedly, as if beckoning you to mention it.

before you can think to stop yourself, you’ve parted your lips. 

”is it good?” you ask. finger pointing at his book.

the boy blinks. eyelashes fluttering. once, then twice. he seems a little caught off guard, but still speaks within a split second. almost like he doesn’t even think about the answer. ”yeah.”

a hum buzzes in your throat. you shift a little, from foot to foot, plastic bag in hand. ”i’ve been meaning to read it,” you say, desperate to prolong the conversation, ”but i haven't had much time lately.”

a chuckle slips from your lips. it comes out sounding just a little exhausted. 

(he glances at the dark bags beneath your eyes, but you don’t notice.)

”i think i might buy it in time for christmas break, though…” you lift your gaze to meet his own. showing the briefest glimpse of a smile, polite. 

he doesn’t return it. lips pursed, silent, gazing at you with slightly lidded eyes. a navy blue, little splotches of a murky green blooming in the corners of his iris. they only appear when you’re this close. soothing, somehow. they’re pretty.

he isn’t saying anything, not a single word, and some part of your heart clogs up like a clump of wet snow. subconsciously, you trap your bottom lip between your teeth, digging into the soft flesh before letting go. cowering a little under his intense gaze.

did you annoy him? 

(he probably doesn’t want to talk to you. maybe he thinks you’re hitting on him, or something. are you hitting on him? that doesn’t matter. he must be stressed — it’s holiday season, after all. the last thing he needs is some annoying customer taking up his precious reading time. 

gosh, what were you even thinking?)

you’re just about to excuse yourself, mentally berating yourself for forcibly striking up a conversation with an obvious introvert — 

when the sound of something sliding against wooden material catches your attention.

you blink.

the boy behind the counter does a little cough. under his breath, clearing his throat. he wets his lips, in what you immediately recognize as nervosity — absentmindedly fidgeting with the rings on his fingers. 

”here.”

when you look down, a certain book is placed on the edge of the counter, right in front of you. wuthering heights.

another blink. you look down at the hardcover, and then back up at him, but he’s not meeting your gaze. if you look closely, you think you see a slight flush to his neck, red like a candy cane. 

”you can borrow it,” he says. a pause. then he continues, clearing his throat again, a hint of hesitance in his raspy voice. ”… if you want to, i mean.”

”… ah.” is all you can answer. barely a word, more of a weak little hum. an absent tremble of your voice.

outside the comfort and warmth of the bookstore, the wind whistles, digging its claws into the city. tiny whirlwinds of snowflakes dance from street to street, fluttering about joyously. you vaguely pick up on the song from the speakers changing, into a poppy christmas-themed kpop song.

a moment passes.

your muddled mind finally reacts. on instinct, sending little instructions to your frozen limbs. to your heart, face down on the floor, completely useless.

”oh — no, there’s no need!” you blurt out, putting your hands up hastily. waving him off. ”it’s fine, i can just buy my own copy!” 

but the boy only clicks his tongue, with that signature furrow of his brows. ”you’re a student,” he states, just a little gruff. but then there’s that kindness. ”you shouldn’t waste your money.”

you’re just about to protest, when he continues. ”besides,” he sighs. ”i’ve already read it. you can just bring it back whenever you’re done.”

and again, your instinctual desire is to protest. unsure of what to say, somehow exasperated by his trust. that’s what it is, isn’t it? trust. trusting a stranger, a customer he’s barely even spoken to, not to just take his book and then never return. trusting you to be a decent person. a good person.

isn’t that naive?

something sprouts like a snowdrop in a ridge between your ribs, though, and you know that it’s happiness of some kind. you’re glad, that he has something even vaguely similar to trust in you. 

glad that he’s acknowledging you, in a way. your presence, the sneaky glances shared between you. the comfortable feeling that sleeps inside your veins when it's just you and him, silently passing each other by, in a quiet bookstore that feels a little like heaven on earth. a safe haven, of sorts, with no incompetent professors, tight deadlines or numb fingers.

it’s just him, and cozy christmas music, and a pitter patter rhythm of your heartbeat that sounds a little like jingle bells to your muddled mind.

a lump forms in the back of your throat. you gulp it back down, and part your lips. an unsure question spills into the open air. 

”are… you really sure?”

”yeah.” he doesn’t even skip a beat. fingers tapping at the edge of the counter, over and over again. another slow moment passes. ”we can… talk. about it.” he coughs into his closed fist. ”once you've read it.” 

with a soft furrow of his brows, he averts his gaze. his voice comes out sounding soft, albeit a little rough around the edges. ”if you want,” he adds.

you’re so distracted by the flutter of his long eyelashes that you barely even feel your lips stretch into a smile. your hearts skips around happily within the confines of your ribcage, and you’re worried that you might look a little too excited — but how could you ever hide your joy, when he’s acting so dangerously, uncharacteristically cute?

”yeah!” you blurt, teeth peeking out when you flash him a bright smile. and finally, he meets your gaze. pretty eyes fixed entirely on you.

at your evident enthusiasm, his shoulders seem to relax. the rapid tapping of his fingers ceases, and he opts to simply bite down on his lip — attempting to obscure his own smile. but you see it, anyway; a tiny, tiny smile. the softest little curl of his lips. you’re entirely mesmerized, all the same. 

a hand goes to rub at the back of his neck, and he does that cute little cough again, and you wonder if the warmth sprouting in your chest will be enough to protect you from the snowfall on your way back home.

angelic; that’s the impression he always seems to leave you with. you wonder if he has any idea just how pretty he is. if he has the slightest clue. you wonder if you’ll ever be able to tell him, yourself.

you wonder if you’ll get to know him, someday. if you’ll ever get to know the pretty, quiet boy behind the counter of your go-to bookstore, who radiates a softness so palpable you wish you could stay there until spring blooms beyond the windows and melts the frosted glass. 

with tentative hands, a little shaky — not from the cold, but the anxious and excited tingle of your bloodstream — you reach for the book on the counter. taking it into your arms, cradling it gently, like it’s so fragile the pages could scatter away if you aren’t careful. with a steady hand on its spine, you begin to flip through the pages, until three little words on the first blank page catch your attention. 

without thinking, you repeat the little scribbled down sentence under your breath. hoping for something. more lulls of his voice, maybe, mumbling to yourself but hoping he’ll hear.

”happy birthday, tsumiki…”

the boy stiffens. 

a silent beat. then he clears his throat. ”my sister,” he explains, and you hum.

so he has a sister. a tiny fragment of his existence, now known to you, a little piece of trivia. you want to collect them, want to put them all in your pockets and carry them around, like little precious bells. 

”megumi,” he blurts out, sudden, and you look up from the book to meet his gaze. ”my name,” he elaborates. and then a pause. ”i work here.”

…

in a matter of seconds, his face reddens. ears and neck slathered over with that sweet cherry hue, blooming across his pale skin. a soft giggle slips from your lips, before you can think to bite it back, and that red hue exacerbates. 

”mm,” you hum, an amused smile on your face. eyes crinkling as you look at him, book safe and secure in your arms. ”i've seen you.”

megumi looks a bit like he wants the ground to swallow him whole. squirming slightly, shifting from foot to foot, tugging a little at the sleeve of his sweater. looking into your eyes, and then back at the counter.

it’s sweet. it makes you feel closer to him, somehow. like you aren’t the only nervous one here. like you aren’t the only person in this city who’s a little bit of a mess. 

(it makes the sludge piling up inside your brain feel just a little more bearable.)

”… thank you.” you smile. ”i’ll take good care of it. and i’ll bring it right back when i finish it.”

a low hum. megumi brings a hand up to fix his bangs, nimble fingers running through dark locks. absentminded — a nervous habit, maybe? ”don’t worry about it,” is all he says. 

again, that sweet dichotomy; a hint of something gruff, hiding an unmistakable softness. a little like snow. cold to the touch, enough to make you want to stay away, but then it melts on the skin of your palm. turns soft and warm beneath your touch.

unable to fully hide the smile still lingering on your lips, you allow yourself one final inhale — letting that scent of peppermint and espresso invade your mind, soothing every frazzled nerve inside your brain. then you put wuthering heights in your bag, protected and snug, and get ready to leave. 

it’s still snowing. if anything, it seems to have gotten worse, enough that all you see when you glance towards the frosted windows are little clumps of snowflakes. obscuring everything else.

just when you’re about to speak, say a little goodbye, a voice spills out into the air.

”… the snow’s supposed to get worse. apparently.”

his navy eyes carry a gentle hue, as they look into yours. maybe a little worried, like a protective mother wolf towards her cub. you blink, and megumi sees it as his cue to continue.

”you can stay until it gets better.” 

a brief pause. his signature cough reaches your ears, and it’s enough to have you smiling, even before he adds a tiny if you feel like it. nonchalant, or at least you think that’s what he’s going for. he mostly just sounds like an awfully caring person trying awfully hard to appear uncaring.

and again, a little smile slips itself into the curl of your lips. all giddy and nervous, a little flustered. but happy. now you won’t have to walk through the relentless snowfall outside, feel the wind chew at your reddened cheekbones. now you can spend just a bit more time with him, bask in those quiet, drawn out moments of pure peace, browsing through books while he sits and reads behind the counter.

”thanks,” you breathe. adjusting your knitted scarf. ”i think i'll look at the books a little more, then.”

megumi’s eyes soften. relieved, you think. hope. it’s a subtle shift, but still enough to notice, enough to see. little splotches of a mossy green sinking into that sea of ink blue.

you think he must feel a little embarrassed, though. like he’s gotten too close to broaching the line he’s set up between the two of you. because he quickly fixes his gaze entirely on a book in his hands, a new one — was it just waiting beneath the counter? 

you don't think much of it, but you note that he's back to his usual nonfiction. something on astronomy, you think.

and with one final glance at his tousled hair, you begin to stroll through the store. languidly, walking to whatever spine captures your attention. savouring the tiny words on the back of the books, wallowing in the peppermint and espresso that wafts through the air, only growing heavier while you’re busy admiring the white opaque frosting of the windows’ glass. 

at some point, the low whirring of a coffee machine buzzes from afar, and when you turn to the counter megumi isn’t there. 

a little later, when he comes back, he’ll be carrying two mugs — matching dogs etched into the ceramic, one black and one white. he’ll put one of them on the edge of the counter, closest to you, and then meet your eyes. give a vague nod towards it, but nothing else. you’ll notice the red tint to his ears, though.

and when you do, a warmth will blossom in your chest, enough to chase away the phantom ache of the winter chill soon to envelop you.

when the little bell of the bookstore jingles its jolly tune, and the door shuts itself as you cross the threshold to leave, megumi lets out a barely audible sigh.

he thinks his heart may be beating just a smidge faster than usual, a little out of rhythm. palms against the counter, he allows his eyes to flutter shut — trying not to acknowledge the heat he feels on his face when he finally begins to process your interaction. 

he smooths a hand over his face, skin just a little sweaty. chewing at his bottom lip with two sharp teeth.

god.

really, it was no more than a stupid twist of luck. that you happened to come in just when he started reading it, that you noticed and didn’t question him on any of the contents. that you believed him when he said he’d already finished it.

and, sure, maybe he was secretly really hoping you’d come in. really hoping you’d notice it, that it’d be enough to make you strike up a conversation with him, something, anything. 

he happened to see you eyeing it once, that’s all. twice, and then thrice, each on different occasions. tsumiki’s old collection came in handy, rotting on the dusty shelves of her room — although he has no memory of her ever reading it.

(he remembers some, though. remembers her reading a few of them to him, on nights he couldn’t sleep. remembers the soft lull of her voice, how the whole world seemed blanketed by a wool of safety.

he wonders if he’ll ever get to hear it again.)

megumi’s heart feels warm. despite everything. 

even though he didn’t even get past the first half of wuthering heights, and has no idea what the hell he’s going to be able to talk to you about. even though he thinks heathcliff is a dick and catherine is a brat, and wishes they could save everyone else the trouble and just talk to a psychiatrist.

even with the cold baring its fangs outside, and the cup of espresso sitting right in front of him, still untouched, made with the store’s shitty coffee machine. even in the ugly sweater gojo forced him into. even though he doesn’t even really know you, not even at all, and still somehow feels certain that you’ll come back with tsumiki’s book in tow.

trust. 

megumi thinks it’s a little weird, how just that single overlapping of your gazes when you first stepped in seemed to solidify such an abstract notion. he’s always had a sense of it, though — a sense of goodness. an ability to seek them out, those good people, bubbly and cheerful and so tragically hard not to love. 

no matter where he goes, he ends up finding them. like tiny sunflower seeds persisting beneath the winter snow. blooming when spring comes around, in a burst of golden vermillion.

resting his jaw on the heel of his palm, megumi allows himself to wallow in the solitude of the bookstore. tired eyes soaking up the words on the pages he flips through, slowly, utterly at ease. drinking his shitty coffee, trying to ignore the itchy feeling of the sweater on his skin, unable to forget the memory of your stupidly pretty smile. 

so pretty he thinks it might just keep him warm, all throughout winter, until you return once more. bringing with you the glimmer of snowflakes on soft skin, and a pleasant fragrance of tea leaves from the cozy shop across the street.

a single sunflower, persisting even through the cold. 

megumi smiles. a tiny curl of his chapped lips, while he flips the pages of his book. content in the knowledge that this won’t be the last time he speaks to you.

(now he just needs to read up on some good papers on wuthering heights.)

[jojikawa]

The Princess and the Delinquent 🎀🖤

Highschool AU — Delinquent!Ryomen Sukuna, Popular!Reader, Little Brother Yuuji, is Mostly SFW apart from AU Sukuna being a horny young adult.

artist: yom

Delinquent!Ryomen who’s been staring at you every day since you’ve transferred to his school. His attraction towards you was nearly immediate. You were just so soft-looking and pretty.

Delinquent!Ryomen who tells himself that he will emotionally distance himself from you once he finds out you’re already taken but he fails miserably, settling for admiring you from afar.

Delinquent!Ryomen who learns that you had a nasty breakup with the guy and now you’re really heartbroken because you’ve been dating that guy since grade school.

Delinquent!Ryomen who begins messing with you during the classes the two of you have together. He sits behind you, tugging your hair if it’s long enough to go down your back, moving your chair more towards him with his foot and even getting bold enough to throw things at you like candy wrappers and small crumpled sticky notes.

Delinquent!Ryomen who scares off any guys that seem like they may be trying to pursue a relationship with you, leaving you wondering why no guys ever approach you after your break up.

Delinquent!Ryomen who you’re forced to partner up with because of your consistently high grades and his consistently low ones.

Delinquent!Ryomen who nicknames you princess when he experiences just how soft and frilly yet demanding you are when you try to get him to do his half of the work.

Delinquent!Ryomen who gets in a fight and is almost expelled because he heard some guy in the locker room saying something vulgar about you. He doesn’t mention this to you at all to protect your feelings. 

Delinquent!Ryomen who eventually opens up after your excessive help to keep his grades up. You end up tolerating him a lot more too which he is grateful for.

Delinquent!Ryomen who you actually find kinda cute once your heartbreak begins to subside.

Delinquent!Ryomen who leaves unsigned love letters in your locker, just to convince you that some sad lonely loser left them instead once you mention it to him: 

You: “Ryomen…someone keeps putting these notes in my locker.”

Ryo: “I wonder who’s gonna tell that poor freak you’re not into him.”

You: “Well, I want to know because they’re actually kinda sweet.”

Ryo: “Wait, really?!”

Delinquent!Ryomen who kisses you in the hallway in front of everyone on Valentine’s Day because you felt sad and left out about not getting a present.

Delinquent!Ryomen who confesses his feelings shortly after.

Delinquent!Ryomen who is extremely surprised about you returning his feelings and kissing him back because why would a pretty princess like you want anything to do with him?

Delinquent!Ryomen who invites you to his house for homework after school where you meet his adorable kid brother, Yuuji. He was a sweet, curious toddler who immediately latched onto you the moment you got in the door.

Delinquent!Ryomen who you scold for bullying the poor child because he annoyed him.

Delinquent!Ryomen who gets bored of homework so soon and pulls you into his bed with him instead. You sorta get the vibe that he’s sorta lonely and isolated because others find him scary.

Delinquent!Ryomen who makes you his security blanket, melting into your chest and falling asleep before you could even say anything about it.

Delinquent!Ryomen who randomly asks if you’re on birth control or not while he’s walking you home. He does not elaborate why but you sorta get it.

Delinquent!Ryomen who uses his bathroom break to peer into the windows of whatever class that the two of you don't share to stalk you. If you see him watching you then he smirks before waving at you and disappearing. If you don’t notice him, he will tap the window, alerting the entire class and earning himself detention.

Delinquent!Ryomen who gets you in trouble so that you can be stuck in detention with him. 

🎀 — @ameliabs-world

[saetoshis]

i think my friend of 4 years is abt to confess to me soon

[luck-of-the-drawings]

smth smth about 'the thing that the character did that you thought was rly rly funny in the moment is actually linked to a terrible trauma that lies within said character.' or wahtever.

[stopper-my-heart]

Nothing like Heartstopper S2E8 removing some of Taylor Swift's "seven" lyrics just so that the singing can specifically come back in at "Or hide in the closet" while Isaac is processing difficult emotions related to the book he's reading (i.e., Ace: What Asexuality Reveals About Desire, Society, and the Meaning of Sex by Angela Chen).

Did I mention "Or hide in the closet" hits just as the camera focus finishes shifting away from Isaac?

This is fine

[ranticore]

aforementioned Siren Reproduction Bible

All people of Siren are the same sex and can perform the reproductive role of insemination and pregnancy (barring injury, congenital variation, hormonal issues etc that might prevent someone from fulfilling these roles). This means that every GMO human was designed to have the same anatomical setup; internal testes (one for harpies, two for everyone else), ovaries (one for harpies, two for everyone else), uterus, cervix, vaginal canal, and penis which can be everted for use (i.e it is usually stored inside the body; in this case within the vulva proximal to the vaginal opening). Because they are all mammals, they all have mammary glands and two nipples. Selkies and zeta also have a two-chambered pouch with a muscular opening which can be entirely shut for diving and swimming. Everybody menstruates, however, this is a very quick (1-2 days max) stage and produces very little blood.

Sex between people of different body types is entirely normalised and happens literally everywhere but conception can only occur with two aquatic Sirenians of the same type (two phocids, two selkies, two zeta) and between all harpies. This is because harpies all arise from the same original population while the aquatics come from entirely separate populations and are far more genetically distinct.

When penetrative sex occurs between two parties, usually it's one penetrating the other. But because of the genital layout, it is possible for mutual penetration to take place if one of them sort of goes reverse cowgirl about it and there are no tails in the way. This is called 'doubling' and a lot of very vulgar terms besides. People being people, any other imaginable sex act is possible within the limits of biology.

Attitudes towards sex vary by culture but there is no form of puritanism or 'chastity' culture. Often, smaller villages might place a stronger emphasis on sex for procreation rather than pleasure and try to discourage the latter.

Gestation periods and pregnancies differ dramatically between body types. Phocids have the longest gestation period and can be pregnant for up to 11 months, giving birth to a single relatively precocious child who must be large and developed enough to be able to swim unassisted from birth. In many southern Spiral villages, the all-bearer, a village elder, is responsible for arranging couplings. The all-bearer's experience is considered key to nurturing a strong population, and any reproduction without permission is considered unlucky and the offspring not truly a member of the village (doomed to be essentially homeless even in the heart of the village). Phocids who experience an Oops pregnancy in this situation might try to foist the baby off on an approved couple, if one can be found and is agreeable.

Selkies and zeta, as marsupials, are only pregnant for three months before the very undeveloped foetus is born and transferred by hand to the pouch. It's relatively common for the marsupials to have twins but triplets present an issue in there being only two chambers of the pouch. A surrogate nursemaid has to be located otherwise the third foetus is unlikely to survive. The baby is able to emerge for short periods at around 9 months but won't go outside fulltime until almost two years of age. While nursing a child, an aquatic marsupial cannot be submerged for long periods of time. Baby needs to breathe too. When submersion is required, particularly among pelagic people, it's common to baby swap with other nursing parents, doing a lil bit of daycare while the parent goes off on a long fishing trip.

In the case of zeta there's no issue with swimming, as they spend most/all of their time on dry land.

Harpies all have the same gestation period, a cool four months. The foetal growth is inconsistent; it seems to grow slowly the first three months before entering a developmental spurt for the last few weeks. This minimises the amount of time a flighted harpy has to sit around unable to fly. Longwings have relatively good heavy-lifting abilties in flight and tend to handle it well, while shortwings are grounded for the last two or three weeks. During this time they need to find a safe space and, if they live in a small village or if they're solitary, they need to plan to be tied to that safe space for about a year, as the baby is born very premature compared to a regular human baby and requires constant care.

In many villages with high shortwing populations, a communal nursing bower becomes a necessity. The one in the Spire is particularly large and infamous; every shortwing citizen of the Spire is obliged to spend a couple of months working in the nursing bower every few years. It's similar to jury duty, you get a summoning letter and have to drop your work and report for duty. Birthing parents will leave pretty much asap, and likely have no further contact with their child after that. It's the nursery workers' job to raise the children in similar-age groups, feeding them and providing their first lessons. Shortwing children grow and mature very rapidly after birth and are considered teens at around 7 [Earth] years old. They are named by an official from the university who assigns each kid a unique prefix which will be used as the first part of their adult name.

[trinimalfoyyy]

Father Malfoy- a D.M. SMUT

Synopsis: Father Malfoy shows you what biblical duties truly mean when he finds out about your engagement

Warnings: 18+ (abusive relationship, praise kink, domination, derogatory names + language, unprotected sex, cheating, restraining, power play?) religious themes

PLEASE NOTE: THIS IS INSPIRED BY ANOTHER FIC ON A03 SO INSPIRATION/SIMILARITY COMES FROM THEM <3 (@Cuntoid so give them some love)

A/N: I’m backkk my little devils ;))

“It won’t change anything.”

You stare at the ground, kicking your foot in an anxious manner. Absentmindedly chewing on your fingernails as you try very hard to avoid eye contact with the person in front of you. The words repeatedly stuck in your head made you furrow your eyebrows.

“It could change a lot.”

You hear no response and take it to finally break the long eye contact with the ground to stare into his cold, lifeless, grey orbs. He’s sitting back in his chair, leg crossed onto the other yet they are still spread apart enough to see his body. One hand covers his mouth and he stares back at you hardly even blinking.

“A ring won’t undo your sins, let alone playing pretend as his wife won’t make you any less of a whore.”

The sun peeks through the curtains and lands upon the diamond ring that envelops your finger. His eyes trail down towards the ring, and you can see his jaw tense and his eyes grow in fever. Your eyes follow his to the same destination. The rainbow shadows dance along the room, and a prism of light hits his eyes just right.

"Isn't jealousy a sin, Father?"

He scoffs aloud, breaking your trance from the ring and back into his familiar eyes. "What could I possibly be jealous of? That ring may show onlookers you are claimed, but how are you even claimed? Mentally? Hardly. Spiritually?" He pauses, and the sound of your heart thumps so loud it makes the hairs on your body sit upright. "I know you aren't claimed physically, for what you wear when you visit me states otherwise doesn't it?"

You shift in your seat, not because you are nervous, no, because you know he's right. The skirts and dresses you wear make it more accessible for him. However, recently, the length begs the question of how accessible you want it to be.

He straightens his posture, folds his hands on the desk, and awaits your rebuttal, knowing it is in vain.

"I love him."

" I never said you didn't love him. I'm simply stating your sins and how they contribute to making you a whore."

You suck in a breath and try to rack that brain of a way to respond to him but to no avail. You come up with no words and soon the real anxiety sets in.

He slowly gets up and rounds his desk, stopping next to you before kneeling. Even on one knee, his figure looms over you, powers over you. His long fingers mindless dance upon your arm as his eyes reach deep into yours.

"You sound jealous...incredibly jealous."

"Yet, you come here and seek refugee in my warmth. Find ways to pay for your sins. To worship me. I know what you need, and your soon-to-be husband won't ever know you like I do."

He licks his lips and shows his canines--causing you to grip the chair. His eyes dip down to watch your motions before slowly reaching your eyes again. His hot breath tickles your arms, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

"If you were some unimportant whore from the streets, I'd congratulate you. But I've tasted...felt how your warm flesh sends me an invitation to my own demise."

The hand that laid beside him now creeps upon your thigh, making you spread your legs all without breaking focus. You suck a moan when his slender fingers reach your entrance to rub a delicious movement against your bare core but it never reaches where you wish it would. He’s teasing you, showing you how he owns you through simple games.

"Does his touch affect you so? Does a simple touch from him make you spread your legs? Does it?" You nod a no weakly, and his eyes swirl with pride. Your hand grips the chair even harder, and his teeth come into contact with your plush thighs. Nail indents would be left over from how hard his nails dug into you. Claiming you. Marking you up for him. Only him.

His hot tongue draws circles in the inner of your thighs. Right now, your heart is felt between your legs, and your mouth is watered from the attention you are receiving. You yelp as his teeth nip and bite, leaving hard marks just to go over them with his tongue.

You could feel how wet you were and almost taste it in your mouth. The smell flooded the room as his head neared your aching entrance. Butterflies filled your stomach so that your toes could curl. With little strength, you call out his name.

"F-Father."

His name was so breathy it hardly was heard. It was a mere whisper, yet it tore his actions to a halt as he looked up through his lids.

"Get up."

His voice echoed in your head as his warmth left your cold body. He waited for you to listen to him, and with shaky legs you stood up just like he asked. His nails dig shape as he pulls you around the desk, grabbing the back of your hair to drop you down.

The cold wood made your feverous body shiver as your hands scrambled to find something to hold onto. You swear you could feel the wood vibrate from how fast your heart was thumping. Cold fingers touched your waist and made you shiver from the sensation.

Suddenly you feel thankful to be at the desk and to have something hold your weak body up. "Does he ever take you on furniture or is the bed the only salvation you have encountered?"

"He...He wants to save it till marriage."

A hum followed by a pause. Another pause passes before he answers you.

"He hasn't even taken a bite out of the forbidden fruit? But, instead, he awaits it like a present wrapped in a neat little bow? Does he know I have tasted your nectar or that you aren't as innocent as you claim?"

"He doesn't know, Draco."

A harsh pull of your hair has you choking on air as he pulls your head back to the point of snapping it. His face nears yours as he growls in your ear.

"You will call me by my rightful name!"

His once cool grey eyes have daggers embedded deep within as he stares you down. Tears blur your vision as you try to answer the man but all words become gargled. Instead, you let out a whimper to signal how sorry you were to disrespect him.

His warm tongue darts from behind his canines and he licks a strip up your jugular. His other hand reaches down your dress to twist your now rock-hard nipple. A moan escapes your throat and his iron-clad grip slowly lets go of your hair.

"Apologize for your mistake slut."

"I'm-I'm sorry Father..."

A finger dances along your spine and reaches your dress before he hikes the material high enough to show him what he wants to see. Your fingers grip the desk harder in anticipation of what is to come next.

"No panties underneath? My my what a true common whore you really are!"

A brush against your now-exposed entrance has your eyes rolling to the back of your head. Rubbing through your folds, he groans at the sight of what truly wet with desire you are. A gasp and an arch in the back as his finger enters till his cold ring reaches your hole.

"Fuck...so wet for me aren't you?"

You nod so quick that your brain can't register what he actually said. The feeling was too good--the pumping action builds a band inside of you. Just a little more and it would break.

But the feeling stops suddenly as you clench around nothing. A pout reaches your features but turns back into pleasure at the sound of a belt.

His belt buckle snaps with such a delicious sound you swear you can feel it. A tap is felt on one of your cheeks and you spread your legs farther without a word even being said.

"Good girl...beg me for it."

"Please, Father! Please! Plea-oh!"

A quick slam of his thick cock has your pelvis squashed up against the wood in a painful movement. He sets out a quick pace, one that has you moaning and babbling incoherent words. Sharp quick thrusts soon turn into pleasure as your body shapes around him perfectly.

"Look at how quick your body adjusted for me. Only I can make your body twitch and shake. Let me make you mine. Let me fill you up completely."

His groans intertwine with your moans as his hand finds your neck and squeezes it. This makes you clench around him and you hear a sharp intake of air enter his lips.

His grip falters on your neck but he makes up for it by shoving his fingers deep in your mouth. His fingers fill up your mouth as much as his cock does. Salvia drips down into a puddle on the desk.

The hand on your waist is so tight you know a bruise will develop later. You could care less in fact, with the way his cock brushing your stomach makes you feel drunk. His thrusts become more erratic and that shakes the desk. He chases after his own high and could feel how close you were getting to yours.

He stops his motions and snatches his fingers from your warm mouth. His hands grip your sides and flip you on your back. You scream out as his cock slams back into you. You watch the sweat drip from his forehead as he ruts so hard.

The grip around your neck is back but much greater. You can hardly breathe and spots line your vision.

"Tell me how good it feels."

You babble words and sounds as you can feel the band starting to break. Your eyes roll to the back of your head and your legs shake with intensity.

"Yes, milk my cock! Let me fill that womb and see how fruitful you are in return."

Tears form in the corner of your eyes as his thrusts hit your now sensitive body. His thumb enters your mouth and he moans as you take in it.

Soon his thrusts become sloppy and you know how close he is. His eyebrows furrow together and his head is thrown back as he shoots white thick ropes inside your gummy walls.

His cock twitches as he rides his high, slowing down in the process. He slowly takes out his white-painted member before getting back dressed. He remains his composure and looks as if he didn't commit a sin just now. He looks back at you and then down to see his efforts drip down onto the desk.

He scoops it back up before plugging your hole with his fingers. You look up at him confused.

"We wouldn't want my efforts to just end up on the desk. No, it must stay inside you." He hums in agreement.

"What would your husband think if you were to get pregnant from my seed?" You look at him through half-lidded eyes too tired to even move.

"Would he be mad? Pissed? Surprised even?" Tears prick your eyes as you listen to him talk.

"Don't cry little dove. I have big plans for you. Very big indeed."

NFSW MASTERLIST

@orphixcc @aadoreeleanorr @his-princess01122014 @burnin-passion @superanimenatural @slytherinhoeperiodt @kinkyslytherinstuff @youreso-golden @dracosbaibe @realityblocked @saystime @agalswrittingobsession @bamb0lina-sffv @justfangirlthingies @louweasleymalfoy @erenjaegerswh0r3 @marrymetheonott @worksby-gabriella @willowmores @audrienfortuno

[3416]

dom from the athletic dropped a great article today on his assessment of the leafs play style and why it's resulting in loss after loss. asking your best offensive players to lean into their defensive roles more instead of letting them do what they do best obviously won't get you where you need to be, but it's 100% more a failure with the playoff mindset and coaching than with the individual player's abilities. it was an interesting read, and i agree with so much of it. responsibility really does fall to mitch and auston in so many ways bc they have both developed their offensive and defensive games, but leaning on playing safe just isn't working. run it back with a better dcore and let them be the harlem globetrotters they normally are PLEASE.

[mango-mya]

Putting her into situations because I don't like her 👎👎👎👎

[feyhunter78]

Trust Fund Baby Series + Meg's Kinktober #21 Almost Caught AKA Late Night, a Few Drinks

Description: Carmy invites you to try the new drinks for The Bear's opening. (This fic is actually sfw sorry to disappoint)

Trust Fund Baby (nsfw)

“Saint Anthony, huh? Didn’t know you were Catholic.” You say, hooking one finger under the gold chain around his neck, leaning forward with a drunken giggle as you inspect it.

“I’m not, just Italian.” Carmy says, his lips mere inches from yours, when you look up and realize how close you two are. He’s so pretty like this, and his eyes are so, so, blue you swear you could drown in them.

You’re practically in his lap, one hand balancing yourself on his knee, the other holding his chain, his gaze holding yours, looking as if he wants to devour you.

“Ah, yes, makes perfect sense.” You nod, smiling, smiling, smiling, smiling, it’s all you can do around Carmy, especially when you’re drinking.

“Yeah?” Camry asks, leaning back on his hands, half lidded eyes, slightly glazed from alcohol, watching as you toy with the small pendant.

“Yeah.” You echo, eyes flickering down to his lips.

“Real nice of you to come help out with the tastings.” Carmy says, pink tongue darting out, wetting his lips.

You swallow hard, the rational part of your brain telling you to pull back. “Can’t say no to free drinks with my favorite chef now, can I?”

His eyebrows lift and he cocks his head slightly to the side. “I’m your favorite chef, sweetheart?”

“Of course.” You say it so simply, like it’s a fact, because to you, it is. “Well, you and Syd, she makes a killer breakfast.”

He laughs, his head rolling back, the sound infectious.

You lean back, letting Carmy’s chain drop and settle gently on his chest.

“That all it takes to win you over? A good breakfast?” Carmy asks, smiling that half smile that makes your stomach do flips.

“I guess so.” Your face is warm, from the alcohol, embarrassment, desire? You’re not sure.

“I’m pretty good at making breakfast too.” He says, the low lighting in The Bear makes his eyes impossibly dark, like the ocean during a storm, and you’re one drink away from diving in.

You gather your courage, hoping you still look as good as you did when you left your apartment. “Oh yeah? Maybe I’ll have to come over and try it some time then.”

Carmy’s eyes widen, just a fraction, but it’s enough to knock down every bit of confidence you built up.

“Shit, sorry, that was such a weird thing to say.” You look at your glass, though you know it’s empty. “I think the drinks are getting to me.”

He shakes his head. “Nah, nah, wasn’t weird at all, love to make you breakfast sometime.”

You bite your lip to hide your smile. “Yeah?”

He tucks a lock of hair behind your ear, fingers lingering for a moment too long, his eyes darting to your bottom lip, still trapped between your teeth. “Yeah, anytime, love cooking for you, it’s cute when you get all excited, and you got that pretty smile on your face.”

And there go the butterflies. “Oh, so you think I’m pretty?” You tease, dragging out the “y” sound, and laughing when he rolls his eyes.

“Fuckin’ know I think that. Everybody thinks that, prettiest damn girl in the whole world.” He says, voice low, but earnest.

“No way, prettiest girl in the world is Jessica Chastain.” You laugh, cheeks burning as you try to wave off his compliment, your heart doing double time jumping jacks in your chest.

He lets out a low whistle. “Almost forgot about her.”

Ouch.

You try not to let that hurt you considering you brought it up, but it still stings, and you look away, feeling the sting settle in your skin.

Carmy sits up, his hand cradling your cheek, bringing your eyes to his. “Hey, hey, what’s up with you, what happened?”

You smile at him, but you know he can see it’s a bit forced. “Nothing, nothing, just got lost in thought.”

“Don’t get all sad on me, I don’t like when my pretty girl’s sad.” He says, thumb caressing your cheek slowly.

My pretty girl. Has he ever called you that before? Ever staked a claim, expressed any real desire to have you as his? You don’t think so, and now the moment has weight. Weight you’re not ready to think about.

“Just got a bit insecure, don’t know why. I literally love her, and don’t have any ideas that I’d actually look as pretty as a celebrity, that would be crazy.”

Carmy lets out a huff and his thumb brushes against your lips, the touch sending shockwaves through you, and Carmy as well. “Don’t be fuckin’ dumb, of course you’re as pretty as a celebrity, fuckin’ prettier than all the celebrities.”

“Hey…” You warn, scrunching up your nose. “Don’t call me dumb.”

His face falls. “No, no, sweetheart, I’d never, I just meant—”

You stop him with a hand on his chest, right over the gold pendant. “I’m kidding, I know what you meant, and I appreciate it.”

Carmy visibly relaxes. “Got me scared for a second.”

“I’m sorry.” You giggle, going to move your hand.

He catches it and brings it to his lips. “I’m serious, you’re so fuckin’ pretty y/n, like it makes no fuckin’ sense.”  His lips warm, a bit chapped, but still soft, and your skin tingles, butterflies erupting in your stomach all over again.

“Oh.” You breathe, heart fluttering, your eyes locked on your joined hands. “Well, um, genetics I guess?”

“Genetics.” He echoes, relinquishing your hand and leaning back on his own, his eyes drifting to the window, leaving you to try and fight the lovesick smile threatening to appear.

“Yeah, my mom is gorgeous.” You say, wishing his gaze would drift back to you.

It does, and you beam at him.

“I bet.” Carmy says, his eyes darting down to your lips, to the way you’re still half leaning on him, the way your shirt clings to you, like a second skin, his free hand settling on your hip.

“I really do appreciate you asking me to come try the drinks with you.” You tell him, voice quiet, unwilling to break the sudden tension that’s appeared.

“Of course, I always have fun with you, wouldn’t want anyone else here with me.” His hand burns on your hip, and you want to pull it either lower or higher, just want something to happen.

“You’re so sweet to me.” You smile, eyes dropping to his lips, then flickering up to his eyes.

He’s so close, and you can practically taste the alcohol on his lips, the bitters, the orange, the burned sugar.

“Easy to be sweet to you.” Carmy says, it’s more of an exhale against your lips, his hand coming up to cup your cheek once more, your noses brushing against each other, the sound of your blood rushing in your ear and—

“Yo cousin, where you at?” Richie’s voice booms through The Bear, and you jolt backwards, pushing away from Carmy as if he burned you.

He looks dazed, lips still parted, eyes soft and focused on you. Then he blinks, and it’s all gone, he’s back to normal. “In the front, by the bar.”

Kinktober masterlist

[springtrapssextoy]

Huggy Wuggy x FEM!NB! Scene reader: SFW

(pretend that scene exists in 80's-90's in this universe) He would definitely love you on sight, all of the boys with the same or similar hairstyles and same with the girls, but you...you were much better than them, you had poofy multi colored hair, big bows, hair clips of multiple colors, you wore very colorful beaded bracelets, are those glow in the dark? You looked like you would fit right in with the others!

When he would escape the facility he would try and find you, you were the only one that made him feel safe. He needed you.

Oh he was so happy when one day you gave him a friendship bracelet with your name on it you had one with his. (He killed multiple employees and scientists that tried to take it off and became much more aggressive when they got rid of it when he was asleep to a point were the scientist had to beg you to make another one)

You always knew he was alive. Plus it of course it was true and you found out the hard way. He hugged you and you kinda was like 'your my friend now, were having soft tacos later!' (plot twist you did and now he misses the taste of soft tacos)

Sometimes you would schedule "sleep overs" with huggy and it would have (soft tacos) you and huggy snuggled up in the tens of blankets and pillows you bought for huggy to nest with and imagine how amazing that would be! A very warm fluffy purring creature that gives the best hugs in a room with little lighting but mainly dark on super soft blankets and pillows (the only downside would be two things , one you would have a hairball of his fur in your mouth and nose constantly and two the scientist has to separate you two and or observe such a interesting behavior)

Holidays would be the worst for the poor little guy-or big guy.. but it would be tough for him, you LEAVING?! YOU are LEAVING ME?! He would be so happy your back, more cuddles more hairballs.

Imagine something sad, you get into an accident at work that huggy has to see you leave and will feel lonely and wonder why did you not come back? Do you not live him? But know one knows how to tell him for him to understand that you have died, so after years he still waits for you to come back...

Sorry I just had to leave ya with something angsty

(he will not sleep in the cuddle room anymore cause it feels empty without you with him and he with wait in the main room for you to come back)