#neither of them get the love they deserve

[l0v3r666]

YOU BACK :D!

Hopeless in love Ace and Deuce, but both are in love with MC. I can already imagine the disaster that would be.

wait isn’t this what the game is about??

Hopeless!Adeuce is insufferable with their crushes- but the thing is Ace knows Deuce likes you (and vice versa) but neither of them are aware of their OWN feelings,, they’re much too preoccupied with the icky sensation of seeing you with someone else, (100x worse if it’s not either of them) it’s excused that he’s feeling that way because he covets your friendship and doesn’t want to lose you. But when they do realize their feelings that’s when it gets real.

Hopeless!Deuce loves you loyally. He wants a life with you after he achieves his goals, and definitely thinks you’d suit a neat suburban life (maybe with a couple kids?). But he’s way too scared to admit it :( what’s he supposed to do if you reject him? All the class time he’s spent thinking about you would be wasted!!

Hopeless!Deuce thinks Ace is a total sleaze. Sure they might be friends (maybe), but that doesn’t mean he deserves to have you! Deuce would much rather protect your peace than lose to Ace, and it’s only a little awkward when Deuce shows up at your dorm even though Ace insists on hanging out alone. Deuce is only second to Grim when blocking your love life, and neither of them are very good at it <3

Hopeless!Ace doesn’t even chance thinking of life after school. Why’d he trash brain power on something that cheesey when he’s just looking for a little fun? He may want you to watch his games and give him good luck kisses, but it’s not like he LOVES you. Maybe just.. advanced liking.

Hopeless!Ace gets downright devious with how he sabotages Deuce, to the point that nothing is off the table anymore. From hiding important assignments to turning off his alarm- he’s evil about it, and so annoying. That’s what tips Deuce off that he has competition.

Hopeless!Adeuce can’t do anything right without their favourite prefect, so show them how it’s done! Alternatively, you do have pick of the litter and some of the other freshmen’ll cause less headache.. Please let them show you the “loveable scamp” is worth sticking around for!

[ennabear]

Gentle/soft sevika… im starving, lord have mercy

^also im the important exam anon! I dont know how i did in that day since the results would take 2 more weeks minimum, but im pretty sure whether it turns out too good or too bad than usual its thanks to you, imma keep you updated! I also think i did good because replaying what you wrote in my brain was just a the best kind of rewards^

IMPORTANT EXAM ANON HAIII!!!! i’m sure you did good hehe idk who you are or what you’re going to school for but i believe that you’re very smart… BUT THANK YOU!!! i’m so honored heheheh 😭 here’s some soft sevika 🤎🤎

everyone always thinks that sevika is aggressive and scary, especially because she can be on occasion. but in reality, you’ve never really seen her that way.

all of sevika’s violence and crimes are done outside of the walls of your shared home, as far away from them as she can manage. most of her killings and fights are done in a dark alleyway in the middle of nowhere, or closer to topside, where although it’s risky to be so close to those stuck ups who’ve never witnessed a crime before, she always gets away with it.

and she never does it out of cold blood. she only lays her hands on someone if they’ve wronged her first.

to you, her hands are the softest thing in the world. well— hand, technically, because she only has one human hand left. but both of them, whether flesh or metal, treat you with the greatest care possible.

late at night, they can be found wrapped around you, either holding you to her chest in a tight snuggle or pinning you to the bed while she snores on top of you. sometimes her metal fingers will trace little shapes into your back, the pointy tips of them making you shiver as she slowly lulls you to sleep.

sometimes she forgoes her mech arm completely, you being the only person she feels comfortable enough to be vulnerable with. still, her human arm will cling to your hips or your waist as you move around the house. whether that means doing chores or washing yourselves up or taking a well deserved afternoon nap on the couch.

sometimes she’ll even cry in front of you if she feels safe enough— which of course she does around you. you’re the only person on the whole planet who knows about her past and the things that still do scare her. like losing you, for example.

her favorite thing in the world is crying with you, although it seems dark. but to her, it’s like she finally feels seen. whether you’re crying over the same thing or just being mutually sad together, she loves to comfort you and feel it back at the same time. neither of you can even stay sad for long, because the other is trying to cheer you up by making you laugh or crack a smile, and it always ends in two teary-eyed giggles bubbling through the room.

[it-was-summer]

Buy Me Presents, Baby

A/N: Minors; DNI. I DONT CAREEE I WANT HIM!! Anyways, this may or may not be based on true events in my life. If you're reading this also know that I wrote this Christmas Eve and it is now 5am on Christmas Day, the powerhouse of lust. Hope you guys like this because I DID NOT proofread this AT ALL!! I mention the pill (oral contraception), so sorry if this is an issue, I'm just a girl. I KNOW there is a typo in here... i know it. Merry Christmas!! My gift is porn!!- Love you, Em

edit- the typo was fully in the title… go to bed at a reasonable time kids.

Link to the Ao3: Buy Me Presents, Baby Link to the: Yee olde masterlist Tags: Woof uhh okay! newly established relationship, Christmas sex, Spanking, Creampie, PnV sex, Reader gets called girl.. I apologize, Oral contraceptives are mentioned at the end, lingerie, that one bow lingerie... yall know which on I'm talking about?, That ONE!! WITH THE BOW YES!!, I had to use the word pussy.. IM SORRT IM NOT HAPPY ABOUT It, dirty talk, cock this cock that, not proofread, merry christmas.

Genre: Porn, no plot. Some fluff? Pairing: Established relationship!Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Plot: You and Spencer exchange gifts for Christmas, and one of your gifts happens to be a little physical.

Word Count: 3,669

Spencer doesn’t know what’s gotten into you. 

Though the longer he thinks about it, he should have seen the signs of your recent… restlessness. Being in the BAU came with its challenges, and one of these challenges was— of course— being away from home. Usually, the two of you would find a special time that worked for both of you to meet up and spend some well-deserved time together. 

Lately, it has felt like the world was against you, though. Every time you had free time, he’d plan a date night with you, only for him to be called away on a case. The one time you planned a date, you came down with a cold. The cycle kept repeating in a million different annoying ways. 

The cherry on top? It was almost Christmas. It's nearly Christmas, and neither of you has seen each other for a good three weeks— it’s miserable. 

So imagine his excitement when his phone doesn’t ring early Saturday morning. When he steps out of his shower, he checks it again— nothing. He’s beaming when he calls you, your sleepy voice answering him before he says, “Dinner tonight?” 

There’s a pause, followed by some rustling, “You’re free?” 

“Mhm,” He hums with a grin, grabbing his glasses from the case and placing them gracefully on his face. 

He can hear the excitement in your voice. " You want to exchange presents?” He remembers the playful tone in your voice when you said it, but at the time, he thought nothing of it. He chuckles softly before agreeing, saying a sweet goodbye, and hanging up the phone. 

Dinner begins and ends at your place, decorated in lights and festive trinkets, and presents wrapped neatly under the fake tree in the corner of your living room. The gift exchange went smoothly; you got Spencer some reading essentials, followed by a special edition of one of his favorite books. Spencer, in turn, had bought you a pair of earrings you pointed out back in November and a framed copy of your favorite painting.

It was getting late now, with a warm cup of tea in his hands, you turned and whispered in a playful voice, “I still have one more gift for you.” 

His eyebrows raised at that, bending his head to look at you as you sat with your back pressed against his chest, “More? After the special edition Tolstoy?” 

“More. I was saving it for the twenty-fifth, but…” You trail off, your eyes leaving his as you glance toward your bedroom. “I could go get it ready now?” 

Spencer smiles, thinking about it momentarily before he decides that he might not be home for Christmas. He mutters a soft “Yeah, okay.” 

You stand up quickly, an excited look in your eyes when you tell him, “Okay, stay here!” And then you’re gone. 

Spencer’s watching your bedroom door close with a faint smile. He stretches as he waits, his tea finished, when he hears you call out for him, “You can come in now!” 

He stepped into your room with nothing but good intentions, that is, until he saw you lying on your bed in lingerie. Maroon satin material lays smooth against your skin, and the shape of a tantalizing bow teases him at the center of your chest and your underwear— barely there. 

He clears his throat in a vain attempt to appear calm and collected, though he’s sure you can see his blushing cheeks and growing arousal. He opens his mouth to speak, but the words die in the back of his throat when you sit up on your elbows, pushing your breast out toward him a little more with an innocent tilt of your head. “You don’t like it?” 

His voice cracks when he says, “No! I mean— that is to say, I do like it! I mean, I’m sure you can see how much I–” He nervously adjusts his sweater, shaky hands pulling at the collar. 

You let out a soft hum, relaxing a little. " Are you going to stand by the door the whole time, or?” You tease him with a low laugh. 

He quickly walks closer, shaking his head as he gets closer to the edge of the bed. The bed dips as he climbs onto the edge of the bed. He watches as you roll on your side to adjust for him, waiting until he is lying beside you before you whisper, “If you don’t want to, it’s okay–” 

“I do! I do. It’s just we’ve only–” He motions between the two of you slowly, replacing the word. “A few times, and I wasn’t expecting,” His eyes trail down to your chest, his fingers twitching– itching to feel the material against his palm.  

When he looks back into your eyes, you smile at him with a little sigh, “I know. I just saw it, and I thought of you.” 

Spencer feels like his entire body is on fire when you say that. His pants become increasingly uncomfortable as he croaks softly, “That made you think of me?” 

You hum a sweet-sounding “Mhm,” you lick your lips, “Cognitive association, right?” 

Spencer thinks you’ll break him with the way you’re talking to him; your voice is low and quiet, clearly amused. He holds back a sound when he feels your hand take his and guide it to your barely clothed hip. For some reason, he wants to spew some facts about cognitive association, but in a rare moment, his mind goes blank. 

His mind slows, and the only thing he can process is the feeling of satin material against your body. He drags his hand along your side, higher and higher, until his fingers trace the bra’s underwire. His eyes flicker over to yours as he leans in, pressing a slow kiss to your lips. 

Kissing Spencer always starts soft, tender, and languid. It then slowly devolves into something passionate, heated, rough– something you adore. And you’re starting to feel the shift in this kiss, his tongue slightly grazing your bottom lip– a silent plea you happily fulfill, parting your lips to let his tongue tentatively enter the kiss. 

You’re smiling into the kiss, shifting with him so you’re under him before grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him deeper into the kiss. Spencer lets out a tiny sound of surprise against your lips at the rough movement, and he pulls away slightly, his lips barely touching yours when he says, “So aggressive,” His tone teasing as he captures your lips in another giddy kiss. 

With your eyes closed and mouth occupied, your hands get to work. Blindly, you pull the bottom of his sweater, your lips only leaving his to help him pull the piece of clothing off his body. He’s eager to get his lips back on yours, his tongue resuming its work against yours, a kiss that makes your head spin and thoughts go hazy with how intense it feels. 

You move your legs up and around his hips, pushing his hips down to yours with ease. Spencer whines into the kiss, his lips moving slowly against yours until he pulls away to kiss your jawline. His hips grind down onto yours, your breath hitching at the feeling. 

Feeling his hardness through his pants makes you realize just how badly you need him, and it seems it does the same for him. His lips latch onto the lower side of your neck, sucking and licking softly at the sensitive area as his hips grind against yours harder. 

The feeling makes your core squeeze around nothing; the new desire to get something, anything, inside you plants a seed in your lower abdomen. You feel shamefully needy as Spencer continues leaving light red and purple marks on the sensitive skin of your neck, his breathing heavy as he decorates you with marks. 

You’re surprised to see that he’s actually moving lower, his markings getting closer to your collarbone when he pulls away, looking up at you with those lust-filled honey eyes, “May I?” The tips of his fingers tug lightly at the satin red bow covering your breasts. 

Your legs leave his hips as he pulls the bow apart with a simple flick of his wrist. His eyes stay trained on your breast as he takes one into his hand and gently rubs at your nipple, eliciting a soft, quiet moan from you, “So pretty,” Then he dips his head lower to bring your left nipple into his mouth, licking at the sensitive bud with precision. 

A sound— embarrassingly loud— escapes your lips at the feeling, your body squirming against his. You’re sure you can feel him smiling against your breast, his right hand moving to your right nipple, pinching it lightly. 

Your fingers latch onto his hair, gently running them through his hair and occasionally pulling when his tongue does something particularly amazing against the bud of your nipple. You can feel electric arousal coursing through you, soft moans and sighs leaving you with every touch. 

However, he’s pulling his lips away from your breast soon after, his cheeks red as he mutters a low, “Need to make sure you cum,” And you find yourself nodding in agreement as his hands leave your breast, pulling the lingerie’s satin thong to the side as he swipes two fingers along your entrance. 

You let out a little sigh, feeling incredibly needy as his fingers brush against your clit teasingly. “Did dressing up like this make you this wet, or did I?” He asks, his fingers curiously leading back down to your entrance. 

Shifting under him, you let out a breathless chuckle, “A bit of both,” 

He grins at that, his head now to the side of yours, his thumb pressing against your clit slowly as he slides a finger inside you. You tense for a second with pleasure before relaxing as the feelings, his finger gently curling inside of you as his thumb presses down harder on your swollen bundle of nerves. “You’ve been fantasizing about this for weeks, haven’t you?” 

His voice against your ear isn’t something you expect, but you aren’t surprised for long as he slides a second finger into you— your thoughts turning to mush, “Yes,” You whisper, your back arching slightly at his fingers move faster inside you, curling and pleasing you at a medium pace. 

Spencer lets out a low hum, his eyes watching you as you get lost in pleasure, his thumb pressing against your clit a little harder as he finds that sweet little spot inside of you. He can feel the way your walls tighten around his fingers, and he’s envious of his own hand, wishing it was his cock instead. 

Your moans only add to personal envy, his fingers moving and caressing your G-spot with greater precision. He tries not to groan, watching you arch your back off the bed. A cry followed by a string of heightened gasps from you has him wholly enraptured. 

When his fingers start to get rough inside you, you’re already seeing stars, your left hand reaching over to grab onto Spencer’s bicep at the feelings, fingers gently digging into his skin as your body shakes. “Love watching you get close,” Spencer groans softly against your ear. 

His lips slowly resume their markings on your neck, and the added stimulation sends you falling over the edge with a loud cry of pleasure. Your body shakes against him, and your high-pitched moans, accompanied by heavy panting, have pride swelling in his chest as his fingers help you ride out your orgasm. 

His fingers only stop when your body goes slack, his lips leaving your neck to gently kiss at your lips— a gesture you return lazily. The feeling of his fingers leaving you has you feeling empty, but you’re quickly distracted as Spencer drags his soaked fingers to his lips. Your eyes widen for a second as you watch your boyfriend lick off every bit of you on them, “Let me get a taste,” Your voice is soft as Spencer leans in, kissing you fast and rough. Your tongue drags along his to get a second-hand taste of yourself in his mouth. 

You’re quick to pull away, your hands hooking into the belt loop of his pants, gently yanking at the loop. Spencer laughs at the feeling, and he looks into your eyes with a shameful look— lustful and pleading. You know how badly he wants to dive straight in, but his determination to make you cum too many times to count usually gets in the way of his cock. 

“Haven’t seen you in three weeks. You can make it up to me later.” You joke softly, your fingers undoing the top button with ease. 

Spencer grins as he slides his pants down his legs, kicking them off. He finds himself blushing at how your eyes shamefully stare at the outline of his cock in his boxers, precum already wetting some of the fabric. He finds himself doing the same with you, though, his eyes taking in the undone ribbon of the lingerie at your sides, the way your legs are parted to give him a delicious view of your dripping sensitive folds. 

Your fingers slip into the waistband of his boxers, gently tracing his cock with your fingers, a soft, pleasured sigh leaving his lips at the feeling. “So hard,” You mutter, leaning up to kiss a part of Spencer’s jaw. 

Spencer lets out a low hum of agreement. Being as busy as he has been, he hasn’t found time for any kind of sexual release as of late. “It’s been a little while since I’ve–” 

“That’s okay,” You sigh sensually, your hands wrapping around his dick slowly, “Take off your boxers.” 

Spencer’s more than happy to comply, hurriedly discarding his boxers at your request. He watches as you pull your hand off him to take off your underwear, and Spencer squeaks out a nervous, “Leave it on?” 

Grinning, you nod, your fingers pushing the thong back to the side of him. He groans at the action, looming over you now, his hands on either side of you. “Flip over,” 

A jolt of excitement runs through you at the request, quickly flipping over on your stomach for him. A pleased sound leaves your lips as his hand moves to pull your hips up, forcing your back to arch for him. He slides his thumb and index inside the sting on your thong as he slowly rubs his cock in between your folds– the head of his cock gently kissing your clit. 

The worst part about being in an established relationship and having just started having sex with your partner is the anxiety that follows you after you say something risky. Your lips part nonetheless, your hips pushing back against him quickly, “That’s right, get that cock wet with my pussy.” 

You were never dull during sex, but Spencer was not expecting something so vulgar to fall from your lips. His hips stutter against yours before he finds himself incredibly turned on by the sudden confidence and vulgarity in your words. His hands yank your hips back roughly, lining himself up to inch himself inside of you slowly. 

About halfway inside you, he pulls out till it is just the tip and then repeats the motion— it’s infuriatingly hot. You let out a soft whine at his toying with you and start to move your hips back against him, but that is met with a surprising spank to your ass. 

A sharp gasp leaves your lips at the feelings before you blink, lifting your head to peer at him over your shoulder and whisper a little, “Harder,” 

Seeing your half-lidded eyes looking over at him, your soft lips begging him to spank you harder, Spencer feels a shiver shoot down his spine. He’s sure he can feel himself grow harder as he pushes deeper into your pussy and delivers a solid smack to your ass with the flat of his palm. 

He then follows the motion with a comforting rub of his hand against the swell of your ass. For a second, he’s worried about hurting you or making you uncomfortable–  unexplored territory. The feeling of your walls tightening around him for a second, fluttering in a way that has him bottoming out inside you without hesitation, reassures him. 

“God,” He huffs as he sets a pace, his hand occasionally delivering a hard spank to your ass whenever he feels your hips moving with his. You feel terrific; the feel of your reddening ass under his hand, the soft skin of your hip in his other, he’s surprised that he isn’t drooling. 

You, however, are starting to feel yourself beginning to drool. Moans and groans coming from the two of you has your head spinning, the rough feeling of Spencer’s hips against yours making your legs feel weak. 

Spencer pulls all the way out as he feels himself getting close, his soaked cock resting against your ass– the sight is something has him letting out a shaky sigh. He doesn’t need to say anything before you’re flipping over on your back again, legs spread and lips wet as you mutter a needy sounding, “More.” 

Spencer can’t find it in himself to deny you or himself, moving closer to you and lining himself up with your entrance again. As he sinks into you, you move your legs up, your hands holding the back of your knee. The new position lets him sink in deeper, and Spencer’s sure you’re an angel. 

You’re practically sucking him in, his breathing getting heavier as he moves against you, His eyes dipping between your face and between your legs– intelligent eyes watching the way his cock disappears deep inside of you. “You take it so well.” 

His hands reach up slowly, tracing the back of your thighs before replacing your hands at the back of your knee, bending your legs back further. He places a chaste kiss on your forehead, the gentle gesture leaving your head reeling when accompanied by this immense pleasure. 

You gasp out at the slight burn of your thighs, toes curling slightly, when Spencer starts to roll his hips in fast, tight circles. The roll of his hips makes his cock hit your G-spot, your eyes rolling back at the feeling as a guttural-sounding groan joins the lewd sounds leaving your lips. 

Spencer takes that as his sign to snap his hips into yours, his forehead pressing against yours as he moans and whines. “You feel so fucking good. I’ll never leave again.” 

You can feel your lower abdomen tighten quickly at the rough movements. A shaky laugh leaves you at his mention of never leaving, but words fail you as you cry out. The past few times the two of you have had sex, he was never this rough. You aren’t complaining, but his frantic, rapid thrusts are leaving you with the feeling that you’ll beg for a repeat sometime in the future. 

A long whine leaves you as you feel yourself getting closer, your hands holding tight on Spencer’s shoulders, your body jolting slightly with his rough thrusts. “So good! You’re fucking me so good. Please, don’t stop.” You beg without shame, “Need to cum, make me cum again.” You beg through moans. 

Spencer almost cums inside you upon hearing your begging, but he holds off— a new mission in focus. He slows for a second, moving one of your hands off his shoulder and under your knee before he slides his hand down to your aching clit. His thumb makes quick, tight, hard circles without warning— the scream that leaves your chest has him worried for your neighbors. 

“That’s it, tighten around me like that.” He pants out from above you, his eyes locking onto yours as he speaks. He watches the way your eyebrows raise in pleasure, and your mouth starts to let out a mix of silent screams and loud groans. “You look pretty when you cum around my cock, my pretty girl.” 

Your legs are shaking with that, the coil in your abdomen snapping with force as you bite your bottom lip to try and silence the sound of your orgasm– a groan that almost sounds inhuman. Spencer’s quick to follow, his hips roughly snapping into yours with his thumb continuing its torment on your sensitive clit. 

The feeling of overstimulation has you letting out a weak-sounding whine, almost a sob. You’re gasping hard as he keeps going, frenzied thrusts that have your free hand gripping the sheet tight until he bottoms out in you with a shaking groan. His hips thrust into you a few more times as he empties himself into you, shaking hard. 

A moment passes with neither of you moving, your legs moving down to the bed, and the realization sets in. Spencer looks at you with wild eyes, “I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking–” 

You laughed weakly and held up a hand, “Spencer, it’s okay.” Your voice sounds a little raw as you relax into your bed slightly, with him still hovering over you. “I’m on the pill, remember?” 

“Well, when taken correctly, it’s 99% effective, but if you’ve forgotten a day lately, it’s only 93%.” He pouts lightly when a giggle leaves your lips, but he smiles against his better judgment. “I’m serious, what if…” 

“I doubt it will, but if it does come to that, we’ll deal with it.” You mutter, slowly reaching a hand up to rake your fingers through his messy brown hair. “Clean me up?” 

Spencer notes how your voice sounds: shy and a little desperate. He tilts his head, a playful smile on his face as his eyes trail down to your parted thighs, “Insatiable this evening, I see,” He jokes as he begins to lower himself, soft fingers rubbing against your inner thighs.  

You groan in faux annoyance before you feel his breath fanning against your inner thighs, “Merry Christmas,” You tease softly.

[seeingivy]

I think the ttpd requests thing is so cute I love that album!!! could I request i can fix him x toji fushiguro or i loved you the way that you were x satoru gojo (THE ANGST)? ilysm

i loved you the way that you were x satoru gojo

**part of my tortured poets concert event

--

“what did he do today?” 

at the sound of megumi’s voice, coupled with his footsteps getting menacingly louder as he tracks down the hall, you immediately slam the tattered cardboard box shut, haphazardly leaning over it in some misguided attempt to prevent him from seeing the insides. 

it partially does the job. true to your attempt, you covering the box with the weight of your body prevents him from seeing the contents. but the sight of you leaning over the counter, hands outstretched in a position so unnatural, doesn’t do the job of preventing him from asking again. or even raising the question as to why you were being so secretive in the first place. 

“what’s in the box?” megumi asks. 

“your birthday present.” you state. 

megumi narrows his eyes at you. 

“my birthday isn’t for another two months.” 

“never hurts to start getting gifts early! especially since december can be busy with the holidays and all.” you murmur. 

megumi narrows his eyes at you, his signal to you that he won’t necessarily drop his question, that instead he’ll be more adamant on the fact that he deserves the answer, as you retreat your hold on the box. 

“did you want to eat breakfast?” you ask. 

“sure. then, we can talk about what’s in there. and whatever tantrum gojo sensei threw this morning.” 

you glare at him. 

“it’s not a tantrum. he’s just…having a difficult time adjusting. it’s hard.” you insist. 

megumi rolls his eyes. 

“well, we’ve all had a difficult time. it’s not just him.” he mutters, the tone in his voice searingly angry. 

there’s natural symptoms that you can expect from the ordeal – of satoru being put back together, inches from death, of megumi having his body used as a puppet – that you anticipate. the ones that you can expect are easy to handle, because you know what they are. could anticipate before hand what they would be.

shock.

numbness. 

a loss of regular life. 

megumi doesn’t say anything for two weeks. sometimes it takes a good effort to get satoru to shower. the two of them are no longer particularly fond of eating. 

what you don’t expect is the disability. because in the aftermath of the loss, shoko can only put so much of satoru back together. and while mostly everything is intact – his limbs, his legs, his heart – the six eyes and the limitless technique don’t return. and in ways you can’t understand, it takes too harsh of a toll. 

he can barely walk straight, slamming into doors or hitting the side edge of the coffee table because he insists he couldn’t sense it spatially, whatever that meant. the loss of limitless means that most of the times, standing still feels like he’s drowning, not being able to manipulate the space around him leaves him debilitated to the point where you sometimes find him cowering in a corner.

rambling over and over again about how he’s unprotected, far too exposed out in the open. 

shoko can’t fix the six eyes or the limitless. and as long as you’re all concerned, they won’t ever return. 

and neither will the satoru gojo that you knew and loved.

his frustrations drive him to be angry, withdrawn, and closed off every time you see him. unable to even ask for help.

and the byproduct of it all is just as shocking. because satoru gojo’s newfound flagrance for life is something that drives megumi fushiguro insane. 

“satoru threw away his entire sunglasses collection this morning.” you state. 

megumi frowns. 

“isn’t it worth like…thousands of dollars?” he asks. 

you shrug. 

“he’s just insisting that he has no need for them anymore, so what’s the point of keeping them around where they’re just taking up space?” 

megumi sucks in his teeth. 

“i see. so why’d you go dig them out of the trash? you should have saved yourself the trouble than typing to help him when he’s intent on…on acting so pathetic.” he asks. 

“i didn’t dig them out of the trash.” you retort. 

megumi narrows his eyes at you. 

“the box smells. you kind of do too. and i could hear you from my window this morning rustling with the bins, it woke me up.” he states. 

you frown, before opening up the box, and reaching in for the set of sunglasses right at the top. they’re simple frames, silver on the sides, dark black shades, but now there’s a deep crack in the lens on the right. you’re afraid if you push it too hard, it’ll shatter into tiny pieces. but you throw away the thought, extending them out to megumi.

“do you remember these?” you ask. 

megumi takes the frames, holding them up to the light, as he inspects them. he gives you a halfhearted shake. 

“satoru wore these at our wedding. and every anniversary after, he’s…worn them to the dinner that we have together. makes some dumb joke about how he’s seeing me for the first time all over again.” 

megumi gives a nod, before gently placing the frames back in the palm of your hand. he lets his hand linger in yours for a little too long, something that you’ve come to understand is his way of comforting you in the aftermath, as you give him a nod in response. 

“he’ll be mad if you keep them. might even yell at you.” he murmurs. 

“well, i’ll cross that bridge when i get there.” 

--

you cross that bridge four days later. there’s only so many places to hide things in the apartment. your original thought – that hiding them in the kitchen because satoru can’t cook – doesn’t fare well when he decides to come poking for scissors. 

“y/n.” 

“hm?” 

satoru’s suddenly materialized at your side, enough for you to abandon the pie crust you’re failing to mold, with his eyes narrowed at you. 

“what are these?” he asks. 

he holds up the sunglasses in the space between the two of you as you feel the embarrassed warmth run to your cheeks, and slightly take a step back. 

“your sunglasses.” you murmur. 

“i can see that. my question is what are they still doing here?” he seethes. 

you shrug. 

“i just thought you might want to keep them. i was holding on to them for you.” 

satoru glares at you. 

“you know, when i make the effort of walking all the way out to throw something in the dumpster, i’m fairly certain i don’t want them anymore. they were where they belonged.” 

“i know, i know, i just thought…” 

satoru heaves an exasperated sigh. 

“thought what? that i’d need to use them again? i won’t fucking need to, because i can see just fine without them.” 

you bite down on your lip. and he makes no signs of relenting. 

“okay, but..” 

“what part of this is so hard for you to understand? i don’t need your fucking help or for you to hold on to shit for me because you think i’ll regret it later. i won’t. i’m just fine without you trying to walk around, waiting hand and foot on me, because you think i’m defective.” 

you frown, reaching forward to cup the side of his face. the mere gesture makes him flinch, enough for him to put distance between the two of you this time, and it makes your heart sink immeasurably. 

“i don’t think you’re defective. you’re still the same and i…i’m just trying to be there for you in whatever way i can.” 

“then why do you look at me like that?” he whispers. 

“like what?” 

“everytime, i walk into a wall by accident or brush against the table, you wince. you wince because i can’t find my fucking bearings with every stupid thing you’ve put in this apartment, and it drives me fucking insane because i don’t even want to look at you anymore. i understand it’s difficult, that you loved me the way that i was, but i’m just not the fucking same and i can’t do anything about it. you don’t have to make me these dumbass pies or cakes or whatever the fuck you’re trying to do everyday to celebrate my progress or whatever. i don’t care for any of it, so just give it a rest.” 

you frown, dropping your hands to your side, as you dust away the last of the spare flour that’s melded into your hands. you can tell that he’s watching you, maybe a little too keenly, as you untie the apron around your neck and set it on the counter. 

“you’re right, you know.” you mumble. 

“what?” 

“i loved you the way that you were.” 

satoru frowns. 

“the person i loved never raised his voice at me like that.” you whisper. 

you reach forward, for the sunglasses discarded on the counter, and look down at the crack. it’s gotten noticeably bigger, probably from how satoru was shaking it around in the air a few seconds prior, before you look back up at him. 

“the person i loved dragged these sunglasses out of his collection because they’re the exact ones he was wearing when i married him. he’d put them on and tell me that he was seeing me again for the first time, even though that wasn’t really true. and deep down, he probably knew that i thought it was a little cheesy, stupid even, but did it anyway because it made me laugh.” 

you shake your head. 

“he’d never throw these away. i’m sorry that i’m not…not as broken up that you’ve lost your six eyes or your limitless and i don’t know how to help you. i’m sorry i want to bake things and celebrate or whatever…but i almost lost you. i watched shoko sew you back together for hours, sat there for days when you didn’t wake up, and i was…just thankful that i got to see you again. in whatever state that you were. i’m sorry that it’s something that i thought warranted celebration, that the mere fact that you have the opportunity to struggle instead of be…be six feet under the ground…is something that i delight in.” 

you sigh, before setting them back down on the counter, the warm tears bubbling in your eyes. 

“but, please. by all means, throw them away. suppose they mean nothing to you when they’re not attached to the six eyes, anyways.” 

and on that note, you turn on your heel and leave. 

--

when you return home after three hours, there’s an almost pungent smell in the kitchen, so strong that it makes your nose water. you’re almost positive that in your absence the two of them made some horrible attempt at fixing themselves food, and you make a mental note to rectify their mess later. 

you make your way over to the balcony doors to clear the air, except for the fact that the sliding door is already open, that satoru’s sitting criss crossed on the floor with megumi at his side, looking at the view of the city below. 

you lightly wrap your knuckles against the door, the two of them turning their heads ever so slightly, as you lightly step out into the cold air. you crouch down, placing a hand on megumi’s shoulder and squeezing hard. 

“mind if i talk to gojo alone?” you ask. 

he gives you a polite smile, returning your gesture by placing his hand on your shoulder, and giving you a nod. the two of you switch spots, as you criss cross into the warmth megumi’s left behind, and hike your legs to your chest. 

“so, i just wanted to say that…” you start. 

satoru wordlessly slides two boxes in front of you. they’re dark black, a sparkling silver logo embossed into the material, tied together with a white ribbon. you shoot him a glare, before picking up the first box.

it makes you nervous, testing the waters with a joke when they were so tense when you left, but you do it anyways. 

“are you trying to bribe me, satoru gojo?” you ask. 

satoru gives you a smile. you note that it’s been extremely long since you’ve seen one. 

“would that work, princess?” 

“well, i didn’t marry you for your looks, pumpkin.” you joke, reaching forward to pinch his cheeks. 

satoru fakes hurt, dramatically pressing his hand to his chest, as you pull the ribbon off the box. the sunglasses, glistening in perfect shape and sans cracks, are sitting in the box. 

“oh, satoru. you didn’t have to…” 

“yes, i did. they’re my wife glasses.” 

you smile, reaching into the box and pulling the glasses out, and lightly pulling them around satoru’s ears. satoru shakes your hands off, only because you’ve horribly aimed for his ears, and readjusts them before leaning closer. 

“oh my goodness.” he murmurs. 

“what?” you whisper. 

satoru lifts his hands and places them on your cheeks, the touch warm, as he rubs circles into your cheeks. 

“my wife is so pretty.” 

you can’t help but grin, the warmth rushing to your cheeks. 

“is that right?” 

“so so pretty. and kind, and patient, and too good for me to begin with.” he responds. 

you shake your head. 

“not true. you…” 

“very true.” he insists. 

satoru drops his hands, fingers fast as he sets the sunglasses back in the open box, before interlocking his fingers in with yours. he’s looking down at your skin, tracing the callouses left behind on your palms. 

“you know the worst part of losing the six eyes?” he whispers. 

you shake your head. 

“i could feel your cursed energy all the time. and now i can’t.” 

he’s never told you that before. 

“really? was my cursed energy hot?” 

satoru rolls his eyes at you, an unmistakable smile on his face.

“unbelievable.” 

he’s quiet again, fingers outlining one of the red gashes leftover from months prior in your skin. 

“it was comforting. knowing you were around, all the time. that you were moving from the kitchen, or coming up the stairs, or…or sleeping. i’d reach for it sometimes, straining to feel it when you were far away in another classroom or something, whenever someone pissed me off. something to just calm me down.”  

you smile. 

“i’m still around. you might not be able to feel me…that way…but i’m still right here. all the time.” 

satoru winces. 

“kind of embarrassing, isn’t it?” he murmurs. 

“what?” 

“i’m sitting over here, reeling in the fact that i’ve lost…lost what you feel like to me, when you’re the one who actually had to live that.” he whispers. 

you flip his hand over in yours, mimicking his motions by tracing circles into his hand instead. 

“it was no big deal.” you joke. 

satoru narrows his eyes at you. 

“you thought i was dead, didn’t you?” he asks. 

you nod. 

“i didn’t just think it, satoru. you were dead. for a whole three hours, you were…no heartbeat. skin cold. the whole ten miles of…of dead people. i was sitting there thinking about how i was twenty-five years old and already a widow.” you respond. 

satoru sighs. 

“i’m still around too. and…still me in the ways that matter to you. you don’t need to follow me around like you’re worried i’m going to break. hell, i’m surely not as strong as i was before, but i’ve…i will put in efforts to safeguard myself so you won’t have to…cut your losses again.” 

you smile. 

“that would be appreciated, you know that?” 

satoru gives you a wink, before lifting your fingers to press a kiss against your knuckles. 

“it’s a deal, princess.” 

“also…i hope you know i regretted what i said earlier. right after i said it. i’d love you in any iteration. two eyes, six eyes, eleven.” 

satoru smiles, before closing the distance to press three featherlike kisses to your cheek. he retreats to slide the second box over to you, the one you left unopened, and places it in the palm of your hands. you slide the ribbon off just the same, pulling off the lid, to find what might possibly be the most unflattering glasses you’ve ever seen. 

bright green, hexagon shaped, and comically small. 

“well, that’s a choice.” you mumble. 

“if your memory’s failing you, these are the sunglasses you picked out for me on our third or fourth date. pretty sure you were half joking, but…but it felt right to buy them now. rebuild my collection.” 

“how much were they?” 

satoru pinches his lips together in a line. 

“well, i’d prefer to save myself from another lecture today, if that’s okay with you. ask me again tomorrow, princess.”

--

taglist: @7haze

[oimitocat]

SKZ REACTION TO….

….you taking a bullet for them

CHAN…. absolutely hates himself. he blames himself for everything. hates himself more than the company. if he’s already suffering from insomnia then let me tell you he fully cannot sleep. every time he closes his eyes he sees you bleeding out. he cannot and will not sleep until you’re recovered enough to come home and sleep with him in his bed. he’d still be too scared to sleep, clinging to you as you’re deep in your sleep, and if he somehow falls asleep he’d wake up immediately with sobs and making sure you’re alive next to him.

MINHO… cannot be away from you. his form of guilt is to make it up to you despite you telling him you’re fine and you did it to protect him. he won’t stop coddling but you knew he had mistaken love with guilt at some point. he already only shows acts of service as a love language but you felt like he was overdoing it. you hadn’t meant to start an argument about it but you did and he ends up crying saying he just wants to make sure you’re okay because seeing you walk and talk to him is better than seeing you on the floor bleeding out. he’s just suffering and having you close to him is how he’s handling it.

CHANGBIN… self isolates. he wouldn’t do that but he can’t bear to see you. he thinks you hate him until you finally leave the hospital and show up and kiss him better. he’s a big crier, so he sobs into your chest for a good while saying he’s sorry and saying you didn’t deserve that. dealing with the press was a nightmare and he didn’t want you to hate him for not seeing you in the hospital. silently hates himself until you find out and you ease him up again.

HYUNJIN…. won’t stop crying for DAYS. even when you’re out of the hospital. he’d self loathe even when you think he’s fine. he enters a depressive episode for a while, maybe one day smiling at you and the next self isolating from you. you’d wonder what’s wrong and at some point neither of you see each other but you can’t be without him and neither can he. he just wants to be assured that it will never happen again.

JISUNG… ah poor baby, his anxiety spikes and he gets absolutely paranoid. cannot go into the public eye for WEEKS because he’d think you’d get hurt again. you two end up going into a hiatus for a while and jisung jumps even when food delivery comes by. he cries at every single thing and begs you to not hate him for being so weak. your fragile baby, you assure him every moment and soon you two feel a lot better to go back out to the public eye.

FELIX…. also won’t stop crying for days. too scared to be away from you. his hate is towards his company because how dare they let this happen. always cries himself to sleep and you thought sleeping with him would help but he still cries in his sleep and wakes you up from his nightmares. he literally needs a lot of coaxing from you, doesn’t leave your sight. his attachment towards you gets extreme but you know it’s not for long. it hurts you to see him so paranoid and worried but thankfully it gets better.

SEUNGMIN… does not want to see you. he self isolates so bad, hates everything and everyone. he doesn’t know how to handle his emotions so he ends up being tense and lashing out at everyone. when you come back he accidentally lashes out on you but you never say anything- ending up with him crying his eyes out because he couldn’t do anything but be weak and hide in his room. you coax him into knowing you’re fine as long as he’s fine. i think after that he’d start to show physical affection a lot more.

JEONGIN… will not stop crying and hyperventilating. extremely paranoid and will not leave your side. he’d just stare at you for a while and end up crying. genuinely so fragile, you panic and worry a lot. he’d always say he’d sorry and you’d have to remind him it’s not his fault. does not want to enter the public eye for a good while and you don’t either. definitely enter a hiatus with you and won’t leave your sight either. he doesn’t get better until a lot later, but he still feels bad.

[atleastpleasetelephone]

Little Darling

Chapter 11 - The mirror is a trap that saves

It's 1997, and Elvis is still alive and well. He quit music in 1972 after a successful world tour, and now he runs Presley Studios - teaching people karate across America. His daughter and grandchildren are regular visitors at Graceland, and when he’s in Memphis he likes to do a little teaching. His life is quieter now, though. Most of the Mafia have gone - going to live their own lives - and after his divorce from his second wife, Elvis is sworn off women for good. Will a Welsh girl with a wicked sense of humour be the one to make him break his promise to himself not to fall in love again?

Need to catch up? Go here.

Pairing: Old Man!Elvis x OC - Tegan, a Welsh girl he meets at karate.

Word count: 3.2K

TWs: Elvis is a little dominant, use of daddy in a sexual context, bit of dollification, objectification if you squint, possessive kink, praise kink, p in v sex.

It's Christmas eve, and Elvis scratches his bearded chin as he walks arm in arm with Tegan and their dog through the snowy park. He's grown a beard to make it easier for him to dress up as Santa for the grandkids, but he started too late and it's itchy. Tegan told him that the itchy stage would finish soon (her ex had a beard) but he's preoccupied by how annoying it is right now. The dog is a chow cross that they chose together at a rescue centre, as soon as Elvis found out that Tegan loved dogs as much as him. She made the mistake of telling him about the Welsh language band Ffa Coffi Pawb - literally meaning “everyone's coffee beans”, but pronounced fah-koff-ee pow-b which made it sound a lot like fuck off everyone, in a combination of Welsh and English - Wenglish - and he decided that was the perfect name for their new furry friend. In the end he went for Ffa Coffi, which Tegan thinks doesn't really work as a pun, but Elvis enjoys saying regardless. Tegan also doesn't think a dog can be called Coffee Beans (bean would be fine, but the plural just seems crazy) but mostly they just shout “COFFI!” which works in either language. The most important thing is that Coffi is laid back and will barely chase after a ball, never mind other people's pets. And he puts up with Tegan cuddling him all the time without ever trying to lick her face. Sometimes when Elvis sees them curled up on the sofa together he wonders if he will ever get a look in. 

The beard and the fact that he’s wrapped up for the cold mean that barely anyone recognises Elvis, and so they’ve come out without any kind of back up. Elvis feels more and more comfortable doing that nowadays, happy to just walk around with Tegan and Coffi. They don’t see the paps often in the cold, and when they do they just do their best to ignore them. As they make their way through the snow, he’s reminded of the day at the zoo, when they definitely did have to have back up. 

“Hey, I bet if we went ta the zoo today no-one would bother us.”

Tegan snorts. “And all the animals would probably be indoors by the fire with a cocoa.”

“Cocoa?”

“Oh, hot chocolate.”

“Ah.”

They carry on for a while in silence, then Elvis pipes up again. 

“I’m sorry about that day, honey. Ya didn’t deserve bein’ dragged through the press like ya were.”

Her smile is slight as she remembers the horrible events of the day after. “Neither did you.”

Stopping, he turns to her and looks into her face seriously. “Ya didn’t deserve the way I treated ya, either.”

Her eyes dart around, awkwardly, and she eventually settles on looking down at Coffi. “Well, that was a while ago, now, ‘raur. Things have been much better since then.”

Taking his hands out of his pockets, he reaches for hers to hold them. The dog lead slips onto her wrist and Coffi sits down between them, looking up patiently. 

“Ya know yer beautiful, right?”

She frowns a little, still looking at the dog. “I’m not sure what that’s got to do with… before.”

He steps towards her and the dog whines a little at being hemmed in between them. 

“Will ya look at me, pretty girl?”

Her nose wrinkles and she looks up cautiously. “We’ve been through this, ‘raur. I’m almost 40 years old.”

“Alright then. Look at me when I’m talking to ya, woman.”

There’s a trace of a smile on her face as he moves his hand to her cheek and pulls her towards him, making her stagger forwards for balance as he crashes his lips against hers. 

“Mmm. ‘Raur,” she chides, a blush rising on her face as he pulls back. 

“Can’t get ya ta listen otherwise, can I?” He grumbles, letting out a low whistle and shaking his head. “Now I’ve got yer attention, will ya answer me?”

“About what?”

Elvis growls deep in his throat, making Coffi yelp in surprise. “I want ya ta tell me yer beautiful.”

“Elvis…”

“No.” The word is sharp and the force of it makes her tremble. “Don’t Elvis me. Tell me what I want ta hear.”

“I guess I look better now I've had my hair and nails done…”

Nudging the dog out of the way with his foot, Elvis closes the gap between them and puts his lips to Tegan’s ear.

“Well if yer not gonna tell me now I'll haveta fuck it outta ya later.” His voice is low and gravelly and she trembles again at the pitch and the force of the words. She can feel a blush rising on her cheeks and finds her thighs rubbing together almost of their own accord. “Hm?” He prompts, not moving his mouth from her ear. 

“Yes, Daddy,” she whispers back. 

He's half-tempted to reply “yes, Daddy, what?” but he decides not to push it outdoors, and responds with a quick “good” instead. He steps back and takes the dog lead off Tegan, gently tugging Coffi towards him. 

“Time ta head back.”

They turn and walk back towards the car, Tegan’s stomach flipping as the words he’d just said run through her mind over and over again. As well as the consistent erections, the pills had given Elvis a little more confidence, but he’d never said anything like that outside of the bedroom, let alone outside of the house. On the drive home they make small talk about when they’re going to put out the presents, and what they’ve bought for other people, but Tegan’s brain keeps short-circuiting to him telling her he’s going to fuck it out of her. She watches him carry on doing normal, everyday things when they’re back at Graceland. Feeding the dog, making coffee. 

“Elvis?”

“Yes, baby.”

“Can I have a kiss?”

He moves to put his arms around her, pulling her in close. “Of course ya can.”

His lips are soft and the kiss is gentle. Tegan feels herself relax. She smiles as he pulls back. 

“Thanks.”

He chuckles softly. “Mmm. No problem.” Stroking her cheek, he continues, “you lookin’ forward to dressin’ up as Mrs Claus later? Puttin’ on that little outfit I bought ya?”

She looks at his expression for a moment and then shakes her head a little. “It’s obscene, isn’t it?”

He pretends to look offended. “Obscene? Somethin’ I bought fer ya?” When she carries on staring at him with one raised eyebrow he relents. “Okay, yeah, so it’s a little short. Gotta show off my girl’s legs though, haven’t I?”

“To who?!”

“Ah. Okay, ya got me there.” He ponders the question for a moment. “Alright. It’s self-gratification. Jus’ wanna see ‘em myself.”

She keeps shaking her head but they’re both giggling and then they’re kissing again. Tegan hears someone clearing their throat and pulls back quickly. 

“Sorry to interrupt you lovebirds, but I’ve got two kids demanding lunch.” Lisa-Marie smiles at them both. 

“Chefs are on their way in,” Elvis explains, looking at his watch. “Ten minutes or so an’ then they’ll be makin’ somethin’. Kids’ll have ta be patient.”

The impatient children appear as if they’ve been summoned by the conversation, and Elvis suggests they all go down to the den and hang out there instead. Ben follows his sister, explaining some comic book or other that he’s been reading to her in painstaking detail, whilst she pulls the most bored face Tegan thinks she’s ever seen. Elvis settles into an armchair and pulls his girlfriend into his lap. One arm rests around her waist whilst his other hand brushes her hair away from her neck to give him easy access to press kisses to it every so often. He always seems to know when she needs reassurance. 

“You two are so sweet together,” Lisa remarks. 

“Ah, I’m lucky she puts up with me,” Elvis replies, his fingers combing through Tegan’s hair. “She’s got the patience of a saint.”

“Don’t talk about me as though I’m not here,” Tegan complains. 

Lisa starts saying something about him being a pain in the ass, but Tegan can barely hear it because his lips are next to her ear again, murmuring, “think ya like it when I do that, honey.” Her pussy tingles at the words and she swallows, thickly. Managing after what seems like minutes to tune back into the conversation, only to hear Elvis saying,

“She’s way too good fer me, and far too pretty.”

The tingling between her legs intensifies. She does like it. She likes it way too much. Fuck. She tries to calm down as she hears Lisa ask her a question to draw her back into the conversation. 

“Oh well, I mean he is better than me at karate, I suppose…”

They bounce back and forth and she starts to feel herself relax. But Elvis had felt the way she’d tensed and seen the blush on her face. He certainly hasn’t lost his touch, when it comes to knowing what women like, he thinks. Not at all. 

***

Tegan looks at herself in the mirror, turning to the side and tugging at the hem of her dress a little. She’d been right when she accused Elvis of buying her an obscene costume - it only just covers her ass. At least it’s not skin tight, she muses. But there’s no way she’s bending over in it in the best of the house. She pulls the santa hat onto her head and laughs at her reflection. If someone had told her a year ago that she’d be in one of the bedrooms in Graceland, wearing a skimpy Mrs Claus outfit and getting ready to arrange presents underneath the Christmas tree (a task that was now definitely seeming impossible to do without flashing someone) she’d have laughed them out of town. And yet, here she is.

Her thoughts are interrupted by the appearance of Elvis in his own Santa costume. She turns and runs daintily towards him, the red sparkly heels he’d bought her slowing her down a little. Throwing her arms around his neck she grins as his hands grip her lower back. 

“You look very handsome as Father Christmas.”

He chuckles. “I look like an old man in a Santa costume, honey.”

“You look handsome,” she tells him firmly, and he leans down to kiss her with a smile. 

“Father Christmas,” he teases, doing a bad impression of her accent. 

She sniggers. “Daddy Christmas.”

His hand reaches down to squeeze her ass. “Yeah, ya can call me that if ya want.”

They both giggle a little before he insists on looking at her properly in her outfit, twirling her around and making approving noises. 

“You’ve outdone yourself here, Presley,” he says, to himself. 

She can’t help smiling, despite the ridiculousness of the situation. He lets out a sharp breath and then shakes his head quickly as if to dispel the dirty thoughts. 

“Right, let’s get these gifts done.” 

He gives her a quick slap on the ass and she squeals. “Elvis!”

“Thought it was Daddy Christmas,” he replies, one eyebrow raised and a little smile playing on his lips. 

“You are incorrigible.”

“You are incorrigible, Daddy Christmas.”

Tegan doubles over laughing at that, which Elvis particularly enjoys given the length of her skirt and the lacey panties he’d bought her to wear with her outfit. 

“I swear these pills have made you worse.”

“Ya won’t learn, will ya? Call me by my name or I’ll have to put ya over my knee and we’ll never get these gifts done.”

Managing eventually to keep a straight face, she puts her arms back around his neck and looks up into his face. 

“Sorry, Daddy Christmas,” she coos. “I promise I’ll be a good girl. I don’t want to miss out on my presents.”

“I’ll definitely be givin’ ya somethin’ later if yer good,” he teases back. 

After more giggling, nose scrunching and forehead kisses, they eventually untangle themselves and head downstairs to arrange the presents, fetching them from outside of bedroom doors and piling them up underneath the tree. They fill the kids’ stockings and Elvis eats the cookie left out for Santa, leaving the glass of sherry to Tegan, since she’d insisted on it. Much to her relief, no-one comes out to see them at work so she doesn’t have to worry about her modesty too much. It’s still good to be in Elvis’ room afterwards, especially when he tells her he has some gifts to give her now. 

“Don’t think this is somethin’ everyone needs ta see,” he explains, handing her a beautifully wrapped package. “An’ the other one,” he gestures at the box next to her on the bed, “is somethin’ I want ya wearin’ tomorrow.”

“Which one first?”

He taps the package in her hand. “That one.”

She unwraps it carefully, then immediately bursts out laughing. It’s not just one present - it’s a set of three pairs of panties with ELVIS embroidered on the back in silver script. 

“Oh my God! Did you have these made?!”

He nods, grinning a little bashfully. “Thought you might like ‘em. Ya can wear a pair tomorrow under that dress I bought ya.”

Elvis had bought her yet another gold dress, which he somehow hadn’t classed as a Christmas present, having given it to her earlier in the week. She thinks she ought to be overwhelmed by all the presents, and she’s certainly nervous to see his reaction to what she’s bought him, but every time he produces another one she’s filled with a kind of warm joy. He loves giving and she loves receiving. They’re a match made in heaven. 

She smirks and once she’s finished looking at the panties she reaches for the next present. Under the wrapping paper is a beautiful velvet box, and inside the box is… 

“Oh ‘raur!!” She exclaims, very carefully lifting the tiara out of the box. It’s gold and covered in diamonds and she hates to think how much money it must have cost. “Oh cariad, it’s beautiful.” 

“Put it on, honey.”

She pushes the santa hat off her head as she gets up and walks over to the full-length mirror. Carefully replacing the hat with the tiara, she fiddles with her hair and turns her head from side to side, looking at the stones sparkling in the light. Elvis comes up behind her, slipping his arms around her waist and pressing a kiss to her temple. 

“My beautiful Queenie.”

She blushes and looks down. “Oh ‘raur. It’s too much.”

“Uh-uh. Nothin’ too much f’my Queenie.”

“Thank you. I love it.”

He kisses her cheek this time and his eyes lock with hers in the mirror. “Let’s see ya in it and those panties, then.”

She spins around in his arms, her arms reaching around his neck. “Am I just some kind of naughty fashion show for you?”

“Yep,” he replies, patting her ass. “Off ya go now. Do as yer told.”

Part of her can’t believe she’s just going along with this, going into the en suite to take her dress and underwear off, and put the new panties on. She hadn’t thought that being with Elvis would be like being his little doll sometimes, and she also hadn’t thought that she’d like it so much. She opens the door slowly, then steps back into the bedroom. Elvis is still fully-clothed, sitting on his bed waiting for her. As soon as he spots her, looking a little shy only a few steps into the room, he beckons her over. 

“C’mere. That’s it. Spin round fer me. Mmmm. Lookin’ good, Tegan bach.”

Once she’s finished with being paraded around in a circle for the second time that evening, Tegan gets onto Elvis’ lap. She much prefers being close to him like this to being made to strut about like a catwalk model, and she presses herself up against him, enjoying the feeling of her naked skin against his soft, almost furry suit. His hands rub up and down her back, kissing her deeply as she rolls her hips against him. 

“Ya gonna tell me what I want ta hear yet?” He murmurs in her ear. 

“Mmm. No. Think you promised something about fucking it out of me.”

He hums and pulls his belt off, before reaching into the pants of his suit and pulling his dick out. “Sit on it fer me, honey.”

She moves to take her panties off and one of his hands grips her arm. He shakes his head. “Keep ‘em on. Jus’ move ‘em to the side.”

Moaning, she slowly eases him inside her until she’s full, sitting on his lap, her head against his shoulder, panting. 

“Good girl. Want ya ta remember who ya belong to.”

“I couldn’t…forget… Elvis.”

“Mmmm. Yer all mine.”

She tries to steady her breathing, still leaning heavily against him. 

“Okay, baby?” He asks, softly, when she still doesn’t move. 

“Mmm. Yes. Fuck.”

“This enough fer ya?”

She smiles against him. “I was promised a fuck.”

He smiles back, thinking how much he loves her in this moment. His hands move to grip her hips and he uses them to move her, slowly at first and then gathering pace. The tiara slips and she quickly removes it, setting it safely on the bedside table. 

“Now?” He asks, pulling her up and slamming her back down on him, hard. 

She whines. “I… oh… fuck…”

“That’s not it, honey.”

“I… oh, fine! I’m beautiful! I’m… fuck…” she forces the words out and at around the same time her orgasm hits her with the force of a speeding truck. 

“Yes ya fuckin’ are,” he replies, through gritted teeth as he feels her squeezing him. His hips buck a few times and then he’s cumming inside her too. 

She falls down against him like a ragdoll, puffing and panting. Once he's managed to get his santa suit off he pulls her back into his arms. They lie together for a while, basking in the glow of their orgasms. Tegan starts to think about the next day, and who will be arriving when, her brain lazily trying to figure out logistics. They chat about it for a while, Elvis reassuring her that she doesn’t have to worry, he’s already planned it all.

“So that’s everyone, I think.”

“Sure you haven’t missed anyone?”

“Oh, yeah. Jerry will be comin’. On his own, though. Wife left ‘im. Thought he might want company.”

“Who’s Jerry?”

“Friend a mine from before. Lives in LA now. Pretty boy, ‘bout seven years younger ‘an me.”

“You didn’t say.”

“Musta forgot, honey. Ya’ll like ‘im. Everyone likes Jerry.”

“Did you tell him about me?”

“‘Course I did, honey. He’s lookin’ forward ta meetin’ ya.”

Tegan thinks she’s looking forward to meeting him too, for some reason she can’t quite define. They carry on talking until Elvis starts to drift off, and so Tegan extracts herself from his arms and gets more comfortable. Imagining Graceland on Christmas morning, bustling with life and joy until she falls asleep too. 

***

Taglist:

@vintagepresley @arg-xoxo @from-memphis-with-love @msamarican @blursedblegh @returntopresley @eapep @everythingelvispresley @i-r-i-n-a-a @sissylittlefeather @arrolyn1114 @jhoneybees @cattcb @polksaladava @lookingforrainbows @jkdaddy01 @ccab @epthedream69 @lustnhim @elvisslut @pomtherine @that-hotdog @ladelinee @angschrof @fairybloodsucker @deltafalax @makethemorning @elviswhore69 @ilovequeen978 @wildhorseinkansas @pocketfulofpresley @dkayfixates @iloveelvisss @kxnnxy

[fellow-fandom-fruitifier]

This is a part two to this post, because @/senseless12 asked for one, so here you go!!!!!

After the cemetery scene Niko catches up with Edwin. He's still riled up and emotional and having someone so kind and understanding next to him has him finally opening up about everything. She finds out that Edwin is so convinced it's his fault he's in Hell, that if he could just like girls everything would be okay. But instead he went and fell head over heels for his BOY best friend.

Niko, as wonderful as she is, is only sixteen. She can't help him. Not in the way he needs. So instead she hugs him in the dirty grass under withering trees and tells him it'll be okay. Let Edwin cry 2k24.

Back with Charles and Crystal is dead, dreadful silence. Neither feel good, not at all. Crystal can't believe she assumed Edwin did something horrible enough to deserve Hell when, in reality, it was a tragic incident. She feels like everything David ever said she was.

And Charles can't believe Edwin never told him -- which makes him feel like the world's biggest hypocrite -- and he can't believe he ever doubted his best mate. He never should've doubted Edwin. Not for a second. Not the boy who he's spent over 30 years with, the boy who read to him as he was dying despite his fear of Death.

The contemplative, guilty silence is broken by Maren calling Crystal. Everything gets shoved aside to find Niko and Edwin and continue the case. (Crystal doesn't comment on their state -- not the protective, scolding furrow to Niko's red, watery eyes; and certainly not Edwin's defeated, disheveled slouch. The way his bowtie is more crooked than normal, nor the way his eyes aren't any better than Niko's. She sucks in the guilt and holds it somewhere close to her heart. Hard and heavy and deserved.)

(Charles tries, he opens his mouth, closes it, and tries again. But what can he say to make this better? He can't make anything better.)

So they continue the case, everything goes pretty much the same if more stilted, and job well jobbed.

As I'm sure we all know, the Monty kiss is this episode. It would happen the exact same way, but now Edwin's thinking he's just undone all his progress in begging for leniency. Maybe they could forgive him if he never gave into these sinful urges, but if he did? He wouldn't stand a chance.

AND! Because Niko went with the gang last time, there was no Jenny x Maxine date!! (Sorry guys but the poor girl can only be in one place at a time. If you can find a way to fit it in, go ham!!) So there's no reason for her to rip down her love decor.

Crystal still loses her powers and shit. Then Monty appears with his Glady's case and Edwin is caught between wanting to fix it and worried about further damnation. Niko tries to insist that her and Edwin stay back, and neither Crystal or Charles feel like they can argue, Monty tries but the look on Niko's face shuts him right up. In the end it's Edwin who tells her it's okay. She should stay back and rest, he understands work doesn't help her the same way it helps him.

And so, reluctantly, Niko let's them go off. (She winds up pestering Jenny so much out of worry, so Jenny still snaps at her. Niko has her whole thing but instead she feels like no matter how hard she tries, she can't be a good enough friend -- and what if she makes everything worse? -- and should just hide away. Jenny helps.)

The Glady's case goes very similar but Crystal is actively trying not to be as mean to Edwin, and Edwin is trying to pretend like everything is normal and that yesterday didn't happen. Unfortunately, there's not much to change with the Monty-Cat King-Edwin and Charles-Crystal-David scenes. Nor Teeth Face.

After all is said and done, they get home. And Crystal finally pulls Edwin to the side for an apology and he laughs because she's not any better at apologizing. But he reluctantly admits that it's not like he gave her many reasons to like him, and they both agree to try and be less hostile.

The next day Edwin finally decides he's had enough keeping secrets from Charles so, with the help from an over-the-moon Niko, he gets all dressed up and heads over to Crystal's. Niko drags Crystal off excitedly whispering that she'll explain later, but they need to give the boys some space. Insert the Night Nurse. WOMP WOMP

Edwin, down in Hell, has a second to think. He's been hiding this from Charles for thirty odd years and the secong he finally confesses is when he gets dragged off. Maybe he deserves it. To be down here. I mean, it could just be a cruel coincidence, but with Hell there's no such thing as coincidences or mistakes. The Night Nurse said so herself.

The scene with Simon and Despair goes very similar, the biggest difference is that Edwin doesn't truly believe what he's saying but. Niko does. And maybe that's enough.

Charles comes down and, as I mentioned in this additional post, Edwin confesses on the stairway to try and convince Charles to leave him. That someone of his predisposition doesn't deserve to be saved by someone as good as Charles. Charles says fuck that.

He doesn't give a shit who Edwin likes, he's actually honoured it's him, and anyone else Edwin ever likes should feel the damn same. And Edwin should never ever feel ashamed for things outside of his control, and if Hell truly wants to take him for liking boys then they'll have to go through Charles first. (Knowing Edwin's gay -- and loves him -- snowballs Charles bi awakening bcz, like, if Edwin's queer then it can't be wrong. Bcz it's Edwin. And nothing about Edwin is wrong or bad, obviously.)

So they escape, Niko badasses all over the place, and hugs go all around. Crystal takes her memory balls and oh God, time to run away!!!! Niko absolutely told Crystal about Edwin's attempted confession in this AU so I don't think she would kiss Charles goodbye. At least, not in front of Edwin. She wants to be a better person and is viscerally aware how dickish it would be to kiss her friends crush in front of them, even if he's hers too.

Fuck Esther, Niko dies (As Edwin would say, "NOOOOO!! NIKOOO!!!!!!") Edwin would maybe kiss the Cat King's cheek? In this AU Edwin is still not very accepting of himself even after everything, so if he does kiss Cat King it's very tentative and unsure, but hopeful. He's nowhere near as confident and cunty about it as canon. They go back to London and Night Nurse Night Nurses all over the place.

Post canon Cryland could go a couple ways, but the way I imagine it is this: Charles needs time to think, which Crystal expected. She's not happy about it but she did expect it. She feels like a third wheel a good chunk of the time until something happens that brings her and Edwin closer. Where Niko helped Edwin start his journey accepting his queerness, Crystal will help accept his femininity. They are such big gossips, they love RuPaul's Drag Race, and she slowly works him up into allowing makeovers.

Now, Charles is supportive, but feeling kinda left out. He has no idea what goes on in their sleepover, just that Crystal says no straight boys allowed. (With a meaningful, challenging glint to her eye. Emphasis on straight.) Finally, Edwin and Crystal fold to his puppy eyes and allow him in on a sleepover. Now, if you know a single thing about girls/gays inviting straight boys to sleepovers, you know exactly what happened. They use him as a dress up doll but he can't even be mad because they're getting along and LITERALLY GIGGLING. Also he's never seen Edwin with lipstick before and it's Doing Something™️ to him.

More angst because nothing can stay happy for long. Charles is confused and trying to figure himself out, and while Edwin can wait forever, Crystal can't. She might start to push him for answers, get impatient, etc. In the end they have a fight or something and Crystal decides she can't do this on and off situationship anymore, so she takes a break from the agency.

Now it's Edwin's turn to be caught in the middle, comforting both Charles and Crystal to the best of his abilities. But this isn't something he's used to. Maybe he messes up, says the wrong thing, and now one of them is angry with Edwin. (I personally think it would hurt more for it to be Charles. Edwin could try and explain Crystal's side of things, and Charles could take it as Edwin blaming him. So now the entire agency is in shambles. Night Nurse is also probably breathing down Edwin's neck.)

Crystal, as hurt as she is, isn't going to let Charles misinterpret Edwin and take their argument out on him. So, despite how hurt she is, and Edwin's protests, she storms over to the agency and confronts Charles. Which is ironically how they finally figure their shit out because, as upset they may be at each other, they both agree it isn't fair to give each other the cold shoulder and force Edwin to take the brunt of their frustrations. They realize that Edwin has also been taking the brunt of the Night Nurse and both decide to give him a break. Crystal deals with the paperwork for a month and Charles deals with the meetings and Night Nurse directly. (They don't understand how Edwin did this single-handedly for weeks and swear to never fight again.💀💀)

( @mirabel-on-a-bicycle also asked for more so here u go!!!!)

[profoundbondfanfic]

Happy Holidays to everyone who celebrates!

-Part 5 of 5-

A Date for The Holidays by WaywardAF67 (Explicit, 37k words)

Castiel would never have considered hiring an escort on his own. But when his friend and personal assistant, Charlie suggested he use the service for the upcoming holidays, Cas warmed to the idea. Having a companion to help him through his mother's never-ending relationship questions, and the family drama that was sure to unfold was enough to push Cas to book a date with Succubus Escort service. He just wanted help getting through the holidays, but with Dean Winchester, Castiel Novak ended up with so much more.

Aurora Borealis by blue_morning (Explicit, 18k words)

When Professor Castiel Novak, newly single, decides to cross seeing the northern lights off his bucket list, he gets a lot more than he bargains for: stalked by a polar bear on New Year’s Eve, rescued by a handsome stranger, and seduced into a night of passion. Regretting his choices in the morning, he leaves without even finding out this mystery man’s last name. Back at home he finds that he can’t stop thinking about that night and the man who saved his life. Realizing that he has no way to contact this man he now knows he’s fallen for, Cas throws himself into his work and tries to forget. When fate throws them together a second time, can they work things out?

Holiday Love by Castielslostwings (Explicit, 31k words)

Popular podcast host Castiel Novak has a secret. While his listeners see him as an expert on romance and the magic of the holidays, Castiel has never truly experienced any of that for himself. This year, that’s about to change, and the timing couldn’t be more perfect. As Castiel is preparing to embark on a whirlwind promotional tour for his new book, he stops by his hometown to celebrate Christmas with his family. Unexpectedly, sparks ignite between him and beloved local jack-of-all-trades, Dean Winchester. This year, Castiel might be forced to learn what “Holiday Love” is really all about—but can he put his cynicism aside enough to let Dean in?

Take The Moment and Taste It by tricia_16 (Explicit, 123k words)

For the first time in years, Castiel returns to his hometown for the holidays, just in time to meet the new girlfriend of his best friend’s brother — aka Castiel’s longtime crush, Dean. When Dean’s new relationship suddenly goes sideways, Castiel finds himself riding shotgun in the Impala on a cross-country road trip with Dean, where the two of them find something neither of them were expecting.

Thanks For All The Orgasms by Redamber79 (Explicit, 36k words)

Castiel has been saved from the Empty. The former angel is trying to readapt to both humanity and having a permanent home. He’s living in the bunker along with Dean, Sam, and Eileen, who’ve retired from active hunting and now teach the new generation. His brothers are back and wreaking havoc as only Gabriel and Balthazar can. The Wayward Sisters seem to have moved in. Sometimes, he just needs a bit of quiet, and he finds it watching movies with Dean in the ex-hunter’s room. Dean’s softer now, sharing easy smiles and gentle touches, and the look in his eyes… It’s incendiary. More than a decade of tension finally ignites. Dean brings up Castiel’s confession, and they finally resolve the unspoken desire and lust that’s been building between them, much to the amusement and dismay of the Wayward Sisters. Deciding to prank an absent Sam about it? They’ll never get another chance like this, so why not? Cas has the perfect Christmas gift for Dean, guaranteed to set Sam back on his heels for a week, at least. It’s a Christmas story of family, friends, love, and finally getting what they deserve, thanks to loved ones near and far.

The Annoying In Laws by thatwriterlady (General audiences, 2k words)

Castiel and Dean knew when they'd gotten together that there were many things they would have to blend together, and their faiths were part of it. Their mothers had taken it in stride until the announcement that they were expecting their first child. Now that Joshua is here and both Hanukkah and Christmas are around the corner the two women are bickering nonstop over whose religion is better. There's a lot to learn, even for two older women who think they know everything. They're in for a rude awakening.

Welcome All Winchesters by almaasi (Explicit, 60k words)

When Dean’s engagement breaks off three days before Christmas, he’s left with nobody to accompany him on a road trip to his family’s mountain log cabin. His best friend Castiel happens to be available, and is willing to help him through a tough time. But when Dean's mother and brother arrive, expecting to meet the person Dean plans to marry, they understandably assume Castiel is Dean's fiancé. After a weekend of comfortable domesticity, sharing clothes, intimate conversations, and definitely-one-time-only therapy sex, it feels almost too easy for Dean and Cas to fake a loving, romantic relationship. The hard part is going back to being friends afterwards. They can’t keep their hands off each other, and they’ve discovered some fun things to do together which they’d never tell another soul about. And, oh boy, feelings. Now being ‘just friends’ is so impossible, it seems as if fate had another plan for them all along...

[rei-ismyname]

The deification of Jean Grey

When a 16 year old Jean Grey was bought to the present by Hank McIrresponsible, she was immediately confronted with the post-death canonisation the X-Men greater social circle had saddled her with. Big feelings and bigger expectations.

The worst of it was from people who'd never even met her, but those closest to her was no less fraught. Adult Scott was certainly affected by her presence, but he behaved the most normal about it (cough, Logan.)

This is a really cute conversation, clearly something Jean needs. Not sure I agree that Jean never had a chance. She made her choices as a hero but there's plenty that *could* have gone differently. Besides, she's already come back to life at least once and travelled through time a bunch. You can't keep Jean Grey down for long. I'd expect Scott to say something like that, though he seems especially pensive at this point. I guess it's understandable, as time travel is a headfuck. It's cute that he's jealous of his younger self and that he admits it.

Scott's empathy for Hank here is really sweet, especially considering the lengths Hank went through to hurt him (intentionally or not.) The very presence of Jean should be reminding people of the culpability of a Phoenix host. Jean is safely dead and can be put on a pedestal, whereas Scott receives nothing but venom. I'm sure Chuck's death is a big factor, but the man tried very hard to die by Dark Phoenix Jean, too. It's easy to overlook the flaws of the dead, and in many ways Jean and Xavier both get canonised as mutant saints. Neither deserve it, for different reasons.

Oh boy, Jean's actions here are difficult to discuss appropriately. She's lonely and scared, she's just woken up from a nightmare, and the person she's closest to is there for her - all grown up. I doubt this is intended to be sexual, my read on it is Jean reaching for platonic intimacy. It's definitely rooted in the love Scott and Jean have for each other, something their awkward 16 year old selves haven't managed to navigate. 'The man I hoped you'd be' is loaded as hell, but it is very human. None of us have ever met our time-displaced selves or loves, and it's very understandable to view them as the same person, except not/better.

I'm not going to credit Scott for not learning into Jean's confusion and need for comfort (because it's just the right thing to do) but I do think he understands and he definitely handled it appropriately. Setting firm boundaries and pivoting the focus to the kind of support Jean needs is considerate and responsible.

Kitty's stance and pseudo-threat here is difficult to parse. She says he handled it well, luckily for him, implying that she was listening the whole time but was also wary of him not handling it well? It's hard to see this as anything other than Kitty thinking they might fuck. I'm not sure they do understand each other, because Kitty didn't listen to him, she just banned him from being in her room alone. Not an unreasonable policy to have, but it doesn't give Scott a lot of credit. As they both leave, Jean cries which seems like a failure of duty of care. Feels like there's more going on here. 'But if the genders were reversed' whataboutery is usually bad faith nonsense, but there is an actual example here. If Kitty heard young Bobby crying alone or screaming in the middle of the night I'm pretty sure she'd check in on him. That she's dated his adult counterpart changes nothing. Adult! Scott and Teen! Jean could communicate telepathically any time they wished, so idk. Maybe just the writers covering their bases and overcorrecting.

Then there's Emma and the Cuckoos. While Emma is the best person to train and teach Teen Jean, she does it in a very messed up way. Jean is so obviously right when she identifies that Emma has issues. I'm not fond of this plot point, or at least how it's written - the whole 'girls are bitchy and jealous' regressive idea put centre stage. This psychic duel fails the Bechdel Test and makes all the adults look super irresponsible for allowing it to happen.

Keep in mind Emma is bombarding a 16 year old with sexual images. Jean IS a saint for putting up with this shit and not melting her brain. Telepathy isn't real, but intrusive thoughts are - and I don't think it's a stretch to say targeted sexualised intrusive thoughts is deliberately traumatizing a teenager. I definitely think this could have been written better. Emma having unresolved Jean Grey issues is to be expected, but dealing with it like this and everyone being okay with it is difficult to believe.

Then again, it seems nobody is immune to the deification of Jean Grey, not even the writers. They all know her as the most powerful telepath so obviously teenage Jean can deal with whatever you throw at her. Kitty and Scott should know better, and Emma has plenty of other ways to train Jean. Yes, she's the great Jean Grey, but she's also a 16 year old who's not coping all that well. I'm glad that Teen Jean and Emma became friends not long after this, but it says a lot that the dude writing it couldn't figure out a way to explain it on the page. There was an opportunity here to show women building a friendship off their commonalities, but instead it's something Jean has to overcome with psychic power not emotional strength - and the adults looking after her don't look very responsible.

[tiramisumin]

santa doesn’t know you like i do

⋆⁺₊❅. pairing: choi sumin x f!reader

⋆⁺₊❅. word count: 5.32k

⋆⁺₊❅. content: MATURE CONTENT AHEAD!!!, fluff, little bit of humor at the end, swearing, mutual pining, best friends/roommates to lovers, they’re so down bad for each other it’s crazy, xikers cameo, minjae has an unnamed gf, now into the juicy stuff- kissing… lots and lots of kissing, marking i think?, food play (its just some whipped cream yall), vaginal fingering, oral (f!receiving), unprotected sex gulp pls stay safe and do what ur comfy with bffs, they just want to be close and cheesy and cute okay </3

synopsis: the three times you want to confess your feelings for your best friend, and the one time he beats you to it.

୨ৎ i actually wrote this fic last december and it was originally for sunwoo from the boyz, but i never posted it and i decided to rewrite it for sumin cause i love a good christmas/season themed fic ♡ if u enjoyed this pls don’t forget to like n reblog that helps me so much :3

The first time you think of confessing your feelings to Choi Sumin, is also the first time you realize you have them in the first place. 

November had finally camouflaged into December, snow beginning to stick to the ground outside. It’s your favorite time of the year and Sumin knows this. Why wouldn’t he? As your best friend it only made sense that he knew you like the back of his hand. He knew how you liked your coffee in the morning and that you preferred sleeping on the right side of the bed, among other things.

This is why he suggests decorating your apartment together. 

You have ‘How The Grinch Stole Christmas’ playing in the background as you stand on a step stool, hanging garland on the perimeter of your living room ceiling. Sumin has his hands on your waist, assuring that he doesn’t let you fall. As funny as it would be, he’s also a big softie and couldn’t imagine letting you get hurt. 

“How does it look?” You ask, tilting your head back to see if you can get a better view. 

“Good. Professional almost— woah, be careful.  Don’t lean too much.” He tightens his grip on you. 

“You’re such a dad.” You roll your eyes playfully. Sumin scoffs, but doesn’t retort back. You adjust your stance on the step ladder, going onto your tippy toes to reach one of the lights on the corner strand. 

He tries to ignore how your hips shift beneath his fingertips, how easy it would be to slip them under your sweatshirt. His eyes squeeze shut as he attempts to will away the forbidden thoughts threatening to plague his mind. He’s so preoccupied with wiping his brain, that he doesn’t even realize you’re wobbling a little. 

Everything happens so quickly; the step stool giving out from your feet, your body falling backward, his arms flying out to catch you with his life. Sumin had never been so good with hand-eye coordination, and he thinks he deserves an award with how valiant his rescue was. 

He holds you firmly, examining your face for any indication you might’ve been injured. Instead he’s met with wide eyes and parted lips, his cheeks blushing at the proximity between the two of you. This is the moment that it hits you— the moment that your heart registers that it beats for Choi Sumin. Your gaze traces the outline of his plush lips, so tempted to lean in and press your own to them. 

You open your mouth to say something, when suddenly he’s standing you upright and stepping away from you. He wipes his clammy palms on your shoulders, steadying both you and himself. He thinks this is the universe’s way of punishing him for his earlier thoughts. He scratches the back of his neck awkwardly, laughing in the same manner. 

“Are you— um— are you okay?” Sumin fumbles over his words, eyes looking everywhere but at you. 

“‘M fine. Thanks for catching me.” You try your best to hide the disappointment in your tone. It’s not like he knew how you felt, so you couldn’t really blame him. Neither of you were at fault here. 

That didn’t mean you didn’t feel slightly discouraged though. If Sumin freaked out just by being so close to you, you couldn’t fathom how he’d react to hearing a confession. You clear your throat to, hopefully, cut through some of the tension in the air. 

“Should— should I order dinner?” Your fingers come up to tuck some hair behind your ear, anything to distract from the horrible atmosphere. You don’t like this one bit. 

“Uh… yeah! Yeah, that would be great. I’m okay with whatever you want.” He turns around and busies himself with the tree. You agreed on doing ornaments last, so he starts to slowly open up the branches. He hopes you can’t see the crimson shade spreading across the tips of his ears. 

“O-Okay… I’ll go do that then…” Your voice sounds far away from you. You avoid thinking about the pain blooming in the center of your chest, deep and sharp. You shouldn’t be upset. 

The second time you think of confessing your feelings to Sumin is halfway to Christmas. 

Your friend Minjae and his girlfriend invited the two of you to go look at the lights downtown. Out of your friend group, Minjae was the only one with a significant other. Because you and Sumin were so close, along with the fact that you were the only other girl, you were the best pairing option to join them. 

Going downtown to see the Christmas lights was something you looked forward to every year since you were little. It was a tradition you had with your family up until you got older. Then Sumin and yourself adopted it as your own. Thankfully there would be others around this time. You aren’t sure you could handle being alone with him without your heart giving out. Forget Valentine’s Day, Christmastime was truly the season of love. 

“I always love strolling around Han River and looking at the lights on the trees,” Minjae’s girlfriend says, nose resembling Rudolph’s due to the cold air. “I’m so glad that you like it too, Y/N!”

You smile at her and the way Minjae wraps her scarf just a bit more snugly as she talks. Their relationship was one you, dare you say, idolized. It’s not that they were the perfect couple, it’s that they loved each other so unconditionally. Minjae didn’t mind the teasing he got from the other boys for being ‘whipped’. They had a special connection that shined through even when they were just friends. It’s something you wished to experience yourself. 

The two walk a few feet ahead of you and Sumin, arms linked together. Part of you wanted to do the same with your best friend, to lean onto his shoulder and huddle closely for some semblance of warmth. Your hands sway side by side, just inches apart. If you extended your pinkie just slightly, it would touch his. Oh, how nice it would be to do such an intimate gesture.

You risk a sideways glance at Sumin, your heart skipping when you see how pretty he looks under the tree lights. The off-white bulbs reflect off of his cheeks and make his eyes sparkle, sending your emotions into a frenzy. 

The longer you walk next to him and the longer you gaze at him like a lovesick puppy, the more you realize how far into this infatuation you’ve gotten. What started as something small, triggered by something so menial, has grown exponentially. You’re honestly not sure that there was a chance of returning from this. 

When you put your friendship into perspective, you noticed a lot of red flags. For one, you did quite a few things that didn’t exactly scream platonic. Friends don’t cuddle during movie nights with all your other friends. Friends don’t think about each other in the forbidden ways you do at 2 AM. Friends don’t freak out over the potential end of said friendship.

It’s so painful. Standing here in the middle of December at Han River. You’ve long forgotten about your purpose for being here. Long forgotten about the pretty lights you’d been gushing about since you were a kid. All that matters to you is the boy in front of you. 

It hurts because of the uncertainty of what could come out of a confession. What if he hated you and wanted nothing to do with you? It was scary when you thought too hard about it. You’ve known Sumin through so many goods and bads, and shared many laughs. You know all of his favorite songs, and you’ve never missed a phone call. You want nothing more than to be the reason he smiles.

Santa, if you’re listening… Please make this Christmas one I won’t forget…

The next time you think of admitting your feelings for your best friend/roommate, is during your Friendsmas gathering on Christmas Eve. 

Usually, the event was held at Minjae’s house, since it was bigger. Him and his girlfriend loved hosting the circus that was your friend group. However, this year, you and Sumin volunteered your apartment for the festivities. It was your first year living together and you wanted it to be memorable. 

“The decorations are so cute!” Minjae’s girlfriend gushes, eyes wandering around the living room in awe at what you and Sumin managed to achieve. “The garland around the ceiling perimeter is such a nice touch. Did it take long?”

You think back to a couple weeks ago, when you were decorating. Things would’ve gone on without a hitch had you not fallen off the step ladder. You also wouldn’t be dealing with inner turmoil every time you looked at your roommate/best friend. You glance over at him, chatting it up with Minjae and Junmin, and your heart aches a little. “Not long at all…”

She purses her lips, taking your hand and dragging you off to the balcony. You give her a confused look, raising an eyebrow in question. She sighs, resting her arms on the railing and looking out into the parking lot. “You have feelings for him. Don’t you?”

You blink. 

It couldn’t have been that obvious right? I mean, you only just recently realized you were in love with liked him in that way. How could anyone already notice the signs or the lovelorn gloss in your stare? Your silence and lack of immediate reaction, however, gives away the truth, so you know that you can’t refute. 

“How did you know?” You ask, picking at a thread on your red sweater dress. Minjae’s girlfriend coos, like an older, wiser, sisterly figure who’s been waiting for the opportunity to bring out her life advice. 

“I’ve had a hunch for a while now,” she smiles softly. “But I think my suspicion stems from personal experience, mostly. Because I know when Minjae and I were ‘just friends’, we acted very similarly. And you were a bit quiet when we went to see the lights. I figured it had to be that, or you’d gotten into a fight, which seemed unlikely.”

“I don’t even know if he feels the same,” you nip at the inside of your lip. “There was an incident when we were decorating the apartment and we haven’t spoken about it since it happened. I think he’s pretending that it didn’t.”

“What happened?” She presses, now squared off to you. 

“I almost fell off the step stool and he caught me and it was really romantic and that’s when I realized that maybe I’ve been harboring feelings for him all this time but before I could even think about my next action, he pulled away.” You talk quickly, like you were on a time crunch. Minjae’s girlfriend follows along with your story as best she can, nodding every couple of words so you knew she understood what you were saying, despite the whole thing being one big run on sentence. 

“Oh wow,” she cringes. “In my humble opinion, I think he’s just… emotionally constipated. He’s… Sumin… you know? He’s not used to these kinds of things. Sometimes when we’re scared of something new, we seek comfortability. Maybe he’s afraid of the change.”

She had a very valid, very strong point. Choi Sumin had never boded well with change. For example; when he was a junior in high school, his Physics teacher had left halfway through the school year for family reasons and he failed the class even though he had an A before that. Luckily, you failed your Pre Calculus class, so both of you got to take summer school together. There was a real chance that Minjae’s girlfriend was on the right track. 

“I think you’re right,” you sigh, leaning back against the railing and watching the ten chaotic boys inside of your apartment. “I should wait for him to come to me.”

“You should, but,” she grins, like she knew something you didn’t. “That doesn’t mean I don’t plan on meddling just a little.”

Though ominous in her tone, you knew she meant no harm. So you’d let her do her thing, even if you were slightly unnerved. The two of you head back in to join everyone in the living room. You shoot Sumin a small smile from the opposite sofa, sandwiched between Yechan and Yujun. He mirrors your expression from his spot on the floor in front of Jinsik. 

The rest of the night goes smoothly. You play some games like Uno and a heated few rounds of Charades, the competition amongst your friends going crazy. All of you agreed on doing a Secret Santa exchange, since buying each member of your group a gift was pricey. (After all, you were twelve people deep.) Whether it was luck, or the universe loved to laugh at your expense, you drew Sumin’s name. There was a thirty dollar price limit on gifts, but you knew he’d wanted this oil paint set for a while. (The price could remain a secret to everyone else.) 

It was hilarious, really, that Sumin drew your name. 

The exchanging portion of the night was also uneventful. No one was that shocked to find out you and your best friend had gotten each other except for, well, you and your best friend. You didn’t open your gifts until your friends had all left, feeling like your personal biases were too strong to deny. 

You also decided to open them separately from the other. So when you unwrapped yours to find the prettiest necklace you’d ever seen with your initial as a charm, you almost cried like a baby. It was definitely out of the thirty dollar price limit, but you couldn’t dare complain. 

This was when you thought maybe it was the right time to confess and get everything off of your chest. 

But then Minjae’s girlfriend’s advice rings in your ears and you hold back. You had to wait for him to come to you. 

The fourth, and final, time you and Sumin want to confess to each other, is on Christmas morning. 

You woke up earlier than he did and thought it might be nice to surprise him with breakfast. You’d exchanged gifts the night before, so today would be a relaxed day. At least, you hoped it would, what with all the insane tension and stepping on eggshells around each other. 

Despite not being that great at cooking, you still knew how to whip up some basic things. Most, if not all, of them were Sumin’s favorites. You’d decided to make him some French toast with fresh fruit. Thankfully, you had everything you needed, so it would be easy to just start now. 

The smell that filled the air following each sizzle on the griddle had your mouth watering. If he wasn’t convinced that you were wife material after this, he was a lost cause. Hell, if he didn’t think you were girlfriend material after this, you just might rip your hair out. 

Over this past month, you’d given yourself plenty of time to reminisce over your feelings for your best friend. Upon the realization that you had them, you wondered what made him so special, what set him apart from the rest. The answer was simple; he was Sumin. 

Sure, he was goofy and he never really did things the conventional way. He was too stubborn for his own good and he wouldn’t be caught dead showing affection to anyone but his mother. But despite that, he always wore his heart on his sleeve and allowed himself to be trampled over when he didn’t deserve it. He was a little messy and left cookie trays on the stove after he used the oven. He somehow managed to leave a single water cup in the sink every time. He fell asleep on the couch often and sometimes forgot to lock the front door. 

Above all of that, he was the best thing that had ever happened to you. He knew exactly when you needed a good laugh, the kind that had you hunching over and clutching your stomach. He showed you that he appreciated you in the ways that he could, without overstepping any boundaries. He did your laundry for you on occasion, even when you didn’t ask him to. He always seemed to know when you were running low on facial cleanser or moisturizer, setting a new one in the midst of your things. If you were out for the night, he waited in the living room until he was sure you were home safe. 

He wasn’t like every other guy out in the universe, but that’s what made him so special, what set him apart from the rest. That was why you fell so hard and so fast. Choi Sumin would forever be the person your heart continued to beat for, even if he didn’t feel the same. 

You didn’t even realize you’d finished making around half a loaf of bread, far too absorbed in your thoughts. You plate them on your nicer, china plates and dust some powdered sugar on top. After slicing a few strawberries, you set everything on the breakfast bar. 

It actually looks like a scene straight from a movie. Had you and Sumin been a real couple, and not just a couple of besties, this would be the perfect Christmas. But a girl could only dream, you suppose. 

Lost inside of your mind again while stirring some cream into your coffee, you don’t hear the creak of Sumin’s bedroom door. He stumbles into the kitchen with a yawn, cheeks puffy. His eyes are bleary, taking a moment to focus on the sight of you blowing away the steam coming up from your mug. He spots the French toast not much later, his heart swelling. 

“Morning,” he rasps, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. 

You jump, startled by the sudden voice. “Good morning. I— uh— I made breakfast.”

“I see that,” he smiles, sitting on the stool beside you. “Smells yummy.”

You eat in silence as he pours himself some orange juice. It’s weird. Silence. It’s not a common occurrence between the two of you, given the fact that you’d been as close as you have for almost a decade now. You were both the type to talk for ages without getting bored of the other. 

“So—”

“How—”

You both start speaking at the same time, laughing together at the silly coincidence. Sumin looks adorable with his mouth full of French toast. You look like something straight out of a Christmas catalog. He swallows his food, holding his fist to his mouth. 

“You go first.” He nods. 

“I was just gonna ask if you liked your gifts from your parents,” you say, shifting your attention to the suddenly very interesting three-quarters-empty mug of coffee. “Your mom called me for my opinion when she was buying the headphones.”

Sumin thinks he might burst into tears over his barely finished plate of breakfast. His mother was the only woman in his life that had yet to fail him. She’s the only one he’d ever allowed into his heart for so long. And then you came along and changed all of that. You became someone he could lean on, someone he could depend on when he thought life was caving in on him. It made him so happy knowing that you had a good relationship with his mom. His two favorite ladies. 

He doesn’t answer you, instead grabbing your face and pulling you to him. He connects your lips in a sweet kiss, one that communicates everything he’s been trying to say for days, weeks, months, years. It’s unplanned, it’s a little messy, and it’s kind of desperate, but it’s perfect. 

You part for air, resting your forehead on his as he chases your kiss. A giggle bubbles past your throat. “A bit eager now, are we?”

“I have wanted to do that for so long,” he sighs, eyes closed, nose brushing yours. “You have no idea.”

“What about—” You stamp another kiss on the corner of his mouth, then another on the center, and you punctuate each word with more. “—Less talking? More kissing?” 

“I really like the sound of that,” he whispers, reciprocating. His kisses trail from your mouth to your ear, lighting fire beneath your skin. Everywhere his lips touch, you ache for more. 

When you and Sumin became friends, this was never on your list of things that could possibly happen in the future. You never thought you’d be making out with him in your shared kitchen on Christmas morning. Or at all, for that matter. This was entirely out of your realm of possibilities. 

It’s just too easy to fall into his kiss and the way his lips taste so sweet on yours. There’s a hint of syrup and powdered sugar that makes it so much more addicting. You think you could make French toast for breakfast every day if it meant he tasted this enticing.

Sumin steps off the stool and slots himself between your legs, not breaking away from you for a second. His hands rub up and down the sides of your thighs, fingers slipping under your shirt just like he wanted that day you were decorating. Had he gotten his shot together at the beginning of the month, he could’ve been doing this so long ago. 

“I want more, Sumin,” you murmured against his lips. Now that he made the first move, you’re definitely willing to take what you’ve been wanting and waiting for. He parts from you slightly, noses brushing. 

“Are you sure?” Deep down, he’s still scared that changing everything about your dynamic means there’s a chance he could lose you. 

Your hand comes up to cup his cheek, thumb caressing his skin gently. You stare at him with the utmost adoration, as if he personally placed each star in the sky. Sumin thinks he could die the happiest man ever right now, slipping under the spell that is your sparkly eyes. 

“I’ve never been more sure about something in my life.” Your voice is just above a whisper, but it’s enough to assure him. He smiles at you softly, pressing his lips to yours once again. 

Sumin grabs at the hem of your shirt, pulling it off of you carefully. He kisses all over your neck and chest, nipping and sucking wherever he pleases. Your whines fuel his desperation, encouraging his confidence. He helps you onto the counter, trailing his lips down your body to the waistband of your pajama pants. 

His eyes gaze up at yours, mouth glued to your lower stomach as his fingers make quick work of the bow. He drags them down your legs, faster than your top, until you’re left in nothing except your undergarments. He reaches behind you for something and your eyebrows knit together. 

When he produces the can of whipped cream from your breakfast, you feel the fire beneath your skin burning heavier. He pushes down on the nozzle, a line of whipped cream connecting the band of your bra to your panties. Sumin makes eye contact with you once more to ensure that this is still okay. With your lip between your teeth and your elbows propping you up, he has his answer. 

At what feels like the most agonizingly slowest pace, Sumin licks the whipped cream from your skin. He kisses and suckles at the surface as he does so, making sure to not leave a bit of the confectionery behind. 

A gasp escapes you when his fingers hook into the waistband of your panties, mouth still exploring the plane of your lower stomach. He peels them away from your body, not wasting a second the moment your cunt is bared to him. His lips envelope your clit, thumb circling your entrance. Your head tilts back, your sighs of pleasure transforming into moans. 

The way he’s teasing you inches you closer and closer to your release, but not enough to push you over entirely. The tip of his finger slides in, but then slides right back out, not giving you much of anything to work with. You whine when his tongue laps at your clit. It feels so good, but it’s not what you need. You’re itching for more. 

Sumin can tell you’re getting antsy because you keep wriggling around in his hold. He halts his motions. “More?”

You nod frantically. “Please?”

Two of Sumin’s fingers slip inside of you with ease, grazing that sweet spot at the crook of your pussy. A moan forces itself from your chest, nails digging into your palms to keep yourself grounded. He grins to himself before attaching to your clit again. The bundle of nerves is extremely sensitive now, speeding up the process. 

“You’re so cute,” he mumbles into your lower lips, still consuming you as if you were his last meal. 

All you can do is let out a strangled groan, eyes squeezed shut. His mouth is on your neck once more, and his fingers are swiping side to side on your clit, bursting through the dam containing your bliss. It feels like your whole body has deflated, losing all your strength from supporting your own weight. 

You’re spent, but you need him unlike you’ve ever needed something in your life. Hopefully he’s good at reading you, because all that you can manage to do is communicate that through your pleading eyes. Sumin purses his lips, placing a small kiss at the tip of your nose. Your head chases after him, a pout finding its way onto your face when it doesn’t receive what it wants. 

“Baby, are you sure you can give me another?” He asks you politely, respectfully. You sit up and cup either side of his head as you do so. 

“I have to. I wanna feel you, all of you,” is your reply. Your foot nudges at the band of his sweatpants, batting your eyelashes at him as seductively as you can. He laughs, a soft laugh that tells you he isn’t making fun of you, but rather, he’s endeared by your actions. 

Sumin kisses you like drizzling honey on a warm croissant, something so sweet and comforting. You aid him as best as you can in removing his clothes. Just as you reach out to stroke his cock, he takes your wrist into his hand gently. “I don’t have any protection, though.”

“It’s okay,” you shake your head, leaving a peck on his cheek. “I trust you. With every part of myself.”

His lips are on yours again as he aligns himself with your entrance. The second he slips in, he feels like he’s on another planet. Your pussy is so inviting, so snug around his dick. It’s like you were made for him, sucking him in with each thrust of his hips. His forehead falls to your shoulder, a hiss reaching your ears when he finally bottoms out. 

“Fuck,” he whispers, grip tight on your hips. 

Your legs wrap around his waist, palms flat on the counter beneath you. Slowly, building up to a pace that’s suitable for both of you, he begins to rock into you. His hold on your sides is enough to make you meet him halfway. 

“You feel so good, Sumin,” you moan, head falling backward so your throat is on display for him. 

He groans into your skin, loving the sound of your voice while he’s inside of you. It’s the loveliest thing he’s ever heard. This is all he could ever need. You. This apartment. Endless days of just having you in his arms, whether it was like this or in a wholesome manner, he didn’t mind either. 

Sumin increases the intensity of his movements when he suspects you’re getting close again, feeling that familiar pulse of your walls. His thumb finds your swollen clit again, circling it with the tiniest amount of pressure. He smiles to himself when you tighten around him, knowing that he’s giving it to you good, the way you deserve. 

He knows there isn’t really a difference between fucking someone and making love to him, as they are essentially the same thing. But making love to someone requires emotion. Some very strong ones at that. And luckily, he had those emotions for you. He wanted to ensure that you felt every single one translated into what he was giving you. He wanted to give you tender love and care. 

Your volume increases, growing higher in pitch the nearer you are to your climax. He kisses you passionately, a lot like that first one you shared, and that’s what brings you to that euphoric waterfall. Your release washes over you in waves, as if you really were at the bottom of cascading water. 

Sumin works you through your orgasm, pulling out once you’re revived. You take his cock into your hand, pumping it so he could finish on your lower belly. His eyes flutter shut momentarily, breathing deeply before he helps you off the counter and cleans you up gently. He kisses the crown of your head, pulling you into him for a warm embrace. (The warmest embrace you’ve ever had in your life.)

“We kinda have to— um— we have to talk about this don’t we?” Out of nowhere, he’s shy, almost like he hadn’t just fucked you on your kitchen counter. 

“I think you’re overthinking things, Sumin. I mean, we have feelings for each other. That’s really all there is to it,” you say into his chest. “We don’t have to make things extremely complicated for no reason. I love you, you love me.” 

“It’s not that I just love you,” he shakes his head. “I’ve been in love with you since senior year. We were getting older and I realized that the fear of losing you to adulthood wasn’t just because I was afraid of you and I drifting apart. It was also because I didn’t want to lose you. I was scared of you meeting new people and forgetting me when I was the one there for you for so long. And fuck, you deserve better than a spontaneous confession after I just defiled you where we eat every day. You deserve fireworks and flowers, you deserve this big grand gesture in a fancy restaurant where hundreds of people can see how special you are. You deserve something surprising.”

You feel tears well in your eyes, your heart just about growing in size. Even if it wasn’t conventionally perfect, it was everything you wanted to hear. Then again, conventionality was never Choi Sumin’s thing, so you never expected anything less. 

His mouth parts when he sees that you're crying, scrambling to figure out what he did wrong. You dismiss his worries, wiping away stray tears quickly. At the same time, you notice something on the ceiling, scoffing to yourself. Minjae’s girlfriend really was something else. 

You point up. “How’s that for surprising?”

He can’t help but laugh at the mistletoe hung right above you, completely inconspicuous this entire time. He closes the gap between you with a quirk of his lip. “Guess we gotta follow tradition. I heard it’s bad luck if you don’t kiss underneath the mistletoe.”

“Did you now?” You tease, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

“Yup, and I’m pretty sure it’s generational. Plus, we have an entire day ahead of us, so I think we should continue what we started.” His face is so close to your own as he says this. You giggle. 

When your lips meet again, it’s like all is right in the world. Everything melted away and became background noise, like time had stopped specifically for this moment. The moment where it was just you and Sumin. 

This was better than any other gift you could’ve gotten under the tree. Thanks, Santa.

© 𝒕𝒊𝒓𝒂𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒊𝒏.

[2econd-of-1sts]

TW for torture mention and scars mention. It starts off sad but then it gets better.

One day Alek innocently asks Nikolai how old he has to be before he gets tiger stripes like his Da. Nik's heart skips a beat as he realizes Alek is talking about the scars Price has on his back from being whipped. Neither of them believe in sugarcoating, but he also knows that if he explains Gulags to his toddler, they're going to get angry letters from the other preschool parents, so he tells Alek those are marks from where his Da got hurt once, but he doesn't need to worry because he's all better.

Alek finds Price before Nik can warn him and immediately demands Price turn around so he can "kiss his boo-boos".

Later Price is undressing and finds to his surprise that his scars do ache less. Nikolai pulls him close in bed and asks if he's alright. Price smiles.

He's better than alright. He's home.

MORIIIIIIIIIII

MY HEART. OUGH IDK IF ITS BREAKING OR HEALING THIS IS P R E C I O U S 😭😭😭🙏🙏🙏🙏 I swear the things you send literally add years to my lifespan 💖

Just this precious smol bean pressing a messy kiss to his poor da’s back, little hands reaching up for him, whilst I’m firmly convinced Price is doing his absolute best not to let himself cry at how loving and gentle his boy’s hands are. How soft and warm he feels surrounded by his little family 🥺🥺🥺

This man deserves all the good things 😭🙏 Gentle hands and warm hugs and all the joy from his little family that can be brought 🙏🙏🙏

[young-botanical-genius]

You don't have to be sorry... Seymour felt a pang of guilt for making Audrey feel the need to apologize, but knew that it was probably for the best that they didn't touch too much on the topic of his past. Perhaps someday, if he was lucky, he would feel secure enough to reveal to her all about his life under the sea, about the time he had rescued her from the shipwreck, and about how he had gained the means to come up onto the shore with her. But for now, it seemed a much too complicated subject to try and discuss.

He shook his head once more at her rambling attempts to resolve the potential misunderstanding of her question, although this time, the gesture was accompanied by a soft, reassuring squeeze of her hand. They're not silly! He hated when she would talk about herself like that-- like even the most mundane things she did or said were boring or foolish or meaningless. She did it quite often, and it never failed to puzzle him. How could she possibly think that way?

They're perfectly good questions. He wanted to say, instead opting to give her a small, sad smile in a further attempt at comfort. You deserve to know the answers, and I really, really wish I could tell you everything... but I can't. His free hand rose to brush absentmindedly over his own throat, and he felt himself longing more than ever to have his voice returned to him... even if only for a minute, even if only just to have been able to tell her how wonderful she was and how much he loved her.

His mind drifted to the subject of how much time he had left to spend with her, and his heart sunk at the realization that, provided that he didn't get the kiss needed to keep his human form forever, he only had a few more days left with his legs. After that, it was likely that the two of them would never see each other again, as they would once more be divided by the boundaries of land and sea, and potentially even those of life and death, depending on what sort of horrible fate awaited Seymour if he failed to fulfill the terms of the deal.

The thought alone was nearly enough to make him burst into tears right then and there, but he knew that it would do neither of them any good for him to start crying now. Their interaction had already become awkward enough-- it was clear that they both needed some sort of distraction from the heaviness of their feelings.

A pop of color in his peripheral vision suddenly caught his eye, and he turned his head to see a single, beautiful white lily growing near the banks of the lagoon. Finding that their boat was near enough to the shore and floating slowly enough that he could reach out and pluck it straight from the ground, he leaned over and did just that, proceeding to offer the delicate bloom out to Audrey with a grin of newfound enthusiasm on his face. This is for you.

@young-botanical-genius

Audrey focused on the even back and forth of the paddles through the water as she steered her and her new friend toward the little spot in the lagoon she liked to escape to. She stole glances at the curly haired man across from her, trying not to blush. She knew she had no place taking a liking to this fellow who had seemingly washed up ashore a few nights ago…but his smile was so sweet and his eyes so deep and brown, she couldn’t help herself. But still, she kept it reserved, knowing in a few days time she’d be married off to some prince she had never met. She frowned, scolding herself for being so negative about it. Any prince would be better than the last one she was arranged to marry — but he had drowned in a mysterious shipwreck, one she had nearly met the same fate in, sending the kingdom into a scramble to find her a husband.

The pair turned around a corner into a little pool, surrounded by trees and vines. Moss grew over large boulders and fireflies twinkled in the air. The whole place put Audrey’s troubled mind at ease. “It’s so peaceful, isn’t it?” She smiled warmly, already knowing not to expect a verbal answer. He hadn’t said a word since he’d appeared on the beach, but Audrey didn’t mind. She found that there were other ways you could communicate with someone, and it was a nice change from the men who found every excuse to shut her up and talk over her. She stole another glance at the man across from her, hoping to find that he found her hideaway just as wondrous as she did. “I love comin’ here when I wanna get away for a bit…nobody else in the palace knows about it”.

[4-diamonds]

I love the concept of energy vampires. Evie piques my curiosity a lot mainly because all of the other energy vampires we've seen are all borers. Evie drains people by making them pity her which is pretty unique! I wonder if she started off as a borer but branched out, found emotions to feed from that were more to her taste?

I think this is a possibility because in season 2, Colin mentions that he's starting to use humor as a form of energy draining and then by season 5 he's constantly using shitty jokes to drain energy (alongside his usual borer/irritation tactics)

I wish we had more energy vampire lore!!!!!

[inkskinned]

one of the things about being an educator is that you hear what parents want their kids to be able to do a lot. they want their kid to be an astronaut or a ballerina or a politician. they want them to get off that damn phone. be better about socializing. stop spending so much time indoors. learn to control their own temper. to just "fucking listen", which means to be obedient.

one of the things i learned in my pedagogy classes is that it's almost always easier to roleplay how you want someone to act. it's almost always easier to explain why a rule exists, rather than simply setting the rule and demanding adherence.

i want my kids to be kind. i want them to ask me what book they should read next, and i want to read that book with them so we can discuss it. i want my kid to be able to tell me hey that hurt my feelings without worrying i'll punish them. i want my kid to be proud of small things and come running up to me to tell me about them. i want them to say "nah, i get why this rule exists, but i get to hate it" and know that i don't need them to be grateful-for-the-roof-overhead while washing the dishes. i want them to teach me things. i want them to say - this isn't safe. i'm calling my mom and getting out of this. i want them to hear me apologize when i do fuck up; and i want them to want to come home.

the other day a parent was telling me she didn't understand why her kid "just got so angry." this woman had flown off the handle at me.

my dad - traditional catholic that he is - resents my sentiment of "gentle parenting". he says they'll grow up spoiled, horrible, pretentious. granola, he spits.

i am going to be kind to them. i am going to set the example, i think. and whatever they choose become in the meantime - i'm going to love them for it.

[raikirikiri]

love the idea of obito living after the war and he’s assigned to kakashi’s guard as a type of “community service” and people will pass them in a store and obito is grumbling about how he should’ve killed kakashi, the hokage, when he had a chance and kakashi blithely points out that obito’s has had SEVERAL opportunities to kill him over the last several years. but all the villagers hear is the crazy mass murderer war criminal telling their hokage he wants to kill him and kakashi just :3 *shrugs* because if obito wanted to kill him, he would have.

[chaotic-trav]

Everyone : No rayllum proposal??? Why?? WHY?

Me who was praying it wouldn't happen : No rayllum proposal? THANK FUCKING GOD IM RELIEVED OH I WAS SO SCARED

Like look I love them being in love and crazy devoted to each other as much as the next person but really I just wanted it to end like "It's okay, they have time to grow and just be normal and just be themselves now. They don't have to rush anything, they can take their time." And they delivered, they so delivered because now they have seven years to just grow and be together and be happy and I love it. Let them have it they deserve it. Sure, I would have loved the angst if Callum died but I love this just as much. Like yeah things are great right now but that doesn't mean we have to rush and make them better, we can just bask in this peace that we have for now, we can just exist and see what happens. Perfect ending, the only ending I wanted really. And "You know what I love about you? Everything." It was so good, it was a great ending for them because time was something these two rarely had and now they've seven years of time and that's just great

Anyway, here's to hoping this post doesnt get me killed