#spent the past few days intensely bingeing it from the start to get back in the right mood & it's all culminated in this

[greenscreen-dress]

I HAVE FINISHED THE OWL HOUSE IT IS 6:30 A.M I HAVE NOT SLEPT I HAVE JUST BEEN SOBBING CONTINUOUSLY FOR THE PAST 6 HOURS. AUOUAHOGHHH. FUCK.

[amailboxlemur]

Three years ago today I watched Young Royals for the first time.

Story time/long post incoming. I wasn’t in a great headspace at the time, but let me try to set the scene.

Spring of 2021 was still pretty deep in the pandemic. My province had been on lockdown (number 3) since the beginning of April and I hated working from home. Partly because teaching online piano lessons sucks. But also I live alone, and lockdown is too much alone time no matter how introverted you are. I think that spring I went about 6 weeks without speaking to someone in person who wasn’t like a grocery store cashier.

I decided to go stay with my parents for a few weeks so I could get some human interaction. At the time, I was mooching off my former roommate’s Netflix that was still signed in to our living room TV, so I didn’t have Netflix access.

I also love Red White and Royal Blue, and all of a sudden in early July the fandom got flooded. There were gifs of two unfamiliar teenage boys all over my dash. Fanart of two boys who looked like Alex and Henry captioned “Wilhelm and Simon”. There were a bunch of crossover fics popping up on AO3. I was curious, but mostly I just wanted to get a feel for the characters so I could read said crossover fics.

July 12th was my first day back teaching in person. (Side note: the health precautions we had in place for those lessons were WILD). I came back from my parents place in the morning, taught in the late afternoon/evening and returned home around 8 pm. I made supper and figured I’d try watching an episode of this “Young Royals” thing. I started it and remember groaning when I realized it was in Swedish so I’d have to focus and read subtitles instead of watching mindlessly (I’m too pretentious to watch the dubbed version, but it had been a long day)

“Oh that’s a beautiful boy with a beautiful voice singing… I can keep going…”

“Ohhh they’re about to kiss… wait what? How does episode 1 just end there??? I have to watch another episode!”

“Yay they finally kissed!! But how will Wilhelm react?? It’s not even 11 yet, I think I can watch one more”

“Erik is dead. I knew this was coming because I saw the “beta read but Erik’s still dead” tag on AO3 but totally forgot! How will this affect my boys?? One more episode, just to see if wilhelm pushes Simon away again”

“Ok good, they’re together. August sucks though, I can see where this is going and why there seem to be so many comparisons to rwrb. But it’s past midnight so I’ll have to keep watching tomorrow… wait there’s only two more episodes?? Might as well finish”

Before I knew it, it was 2 am and I was crying on my living room couch. I NEVER get into new shows, I have tons of things I watched 1-3 episodes of and then quit, so I couldn’t believe I binged the entire thing. It was late so I went to sleep.

In the morning I woke up and the rabbit hole began. I read all the fics on AO3, I started following young royals stuff on tumblr. I googled the actor who played Simon and found out he’s an actual Swedish pop star? I think he was among the first artists I followed using my then brand new Spotify account. I followed both Omar and Edvin on instagram, along with Lisa (other actors followed later). I watched all the young royals promo videos on YouTube, including the Hillerska choir performance. That entire summer was spent diving down Omar’s back catalog of Foo vlogs. Some of them are in Swedish, but I remember watching them intensely, as if I would magically understand if I tried hard enough. I started learning Swedish on duolingo.

When season 2 was released, I fully quit all social media for WEEKS to avoid spoilers. I spent 3 days carefully messing up my sleep schedule so I could wake up and watch it at 3 am. When season 3 was released I was such an excited puppy dog that I didn’t sleep at all. I watched it at 3 am and spent the whole rest of the day amped up and on tumblr.

I remember all kinds of fun and significant days in the fandom: Rockbjörnen 2021, musikhjälpan 2021. The lead up and release of Mi Casa Su Casa. The release of OMR. Omar gave me a birthday present in 2022 when he performed “breathe” on Nyhetsmorgon on my birthday. Gay gala 2022 but especially 2023. Both boys have done incredible sommarpratar. So many other galas and performances and photoshoots I’d be here all day listing them all out.

Becoming an Omar fangirl was also surprising. I don’t listen to or follow pop music (my definition of which is incredibly broad so yes, Omar’s music qualifies). Like, I’ve never had a favourite artist before? One who’s work I actively follow and whose releases I know about in advance and look forward to?

Omar announced his concert at Cirkus in November of 2023 and it fell at the end of a semester break from work. I could go without needing to refund or makeup any missed lessons. It felt like a sign. That week was genuinely one of the best in my life, words can’t even describe it. A transatlantic flight, a week in Europe. I got to see Kaggeholm. I met Omar at Lyko. I stood in general admission 3 rows back from the stage and heard Omar sing live and sang along with other fans. It was surreal. Shout out to @yrblogbaby @the-words-we-sung @crownedwille and @omarsimp, wow you’re all amazing. There was a queer joy to hanging out with y’all that weekend that I don’t get too often irl.

Since then, I’ve tried to internalize a little bit more the idea of community in fandom. I’m still not super out there, but I try to interact more. I lurked in this fandom (and so many others) for years. I made this account in something like 2011 and until recently I probably had less than 50 posts.

So yeah… saying this show changed my life feels dramatic but also accurate. Hopefully here’s to more years to come, and more good memories when I head to New York this fall!

[shewholovestoread]

My Journey To You - Thoughts and Impressions Part 1 of 2

I realise that I've been missing these past few months, i've been on a consumption binge but with little to no bandwidth to write about any show/film irrespective of how much I may have loved them. (depression is an ass) But I can, once again, feel thoughts tingling in my brain and I've decided to get back to writing, something that I deeply enjoy. Anyway, enough about me, let's get started.

To keep the post from getting obscenely long, I'm going to split it into two. This post will be about the technical aspects of the show. Part 2 will focus on the characters.

My Journey To You is a 2023 fantasy, Wuxia show (shows/films that are based in ancient China with martial arts warriors being capable of superhuman feats, like Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon). It was highly anticipated owing to the amazing trailer (one of the best I've seen)

Plot: The series tells the story of Yun Wei Shan, a spy longing for freedom, who infiltrates the Gong residence to complete a mission. In the eerie and treacherous Gong residence, she encounters love and friendship, embarks on a journey of self-discovery, and finds the determination to move forward. Together with the rebellious nobleman Gong Zi Yu, they grow and mature through their shared experiences. (via mydramalist)

It stars: Yu Shu Xin (Yun Wei Shan), Zhang Ling He(Gong Zi Yu), Ryan Cheng (Gong Shang Jue) and Lu Yu Xiao (Shangguan Qian), Tian Jia Rui (Gong Yuan Zhi), Jolin Jin (Gong Zi Shang) and Sun Chen Jun (Jin Fan)

Written by: Edward Guo.

Series directed by: Edward Guo & Luo Luo

I'll talk about everything I liked before I get into the stuff that I didn't.

Right off the bat, this show has some of the most gorgeous characters you'll come across and this applies to both the men and the women. The costume and make-up departments do an amazing job making already attractive people look ridiculously attractive. They also help the actors really inhabit the world seamlessly. The costumes are especially incredibly detailed and intricate, you can see the care that went into crafting the look for each of these characters. Shout-out to Huang Wei (costume designer) and Shi Hui (Make-up)

One of the best aspects of the show is the cinematography by Wei Hong. This show is aesthetically beautiful, so many absolutely stunning shots. Chinese shows (and Korean shows) love slow-motion shots, and while at times, it can be a bit much, this show makes great use of them, especially during the fight scenes.

The cinematography is helped to a great extent by the excellent production design, courtesy Jiyao Zhang. Like the costumes, the production design too is detailed and intricate. The world feels fully realised and yet also lived in. Each of the different clan mansions, the Front Hill and Back Hill are so incredibly different and distinct that you can immediately tell where you are. An insane amount of hard work went into the show and it shows in every frame.

You can tell that they had a good budget to work with and every bit of it was spent on making the show look as stylized as possible, there is not an ounce of realism to be found here, cue slow-motion beautiful hair flying shots. (Every day I bemoan my inability to make gifs) But the screencaps below illustrate the beauty of the show, it's so gorgeous that you could literally use screencaps as wallpapers.

The fight scenes in the show are some of the best I've seen. They are intense and thrilling and always coherent, you can always tell who's fighting who. The fight scenes are also so aesthetically pleasing, like an exceptionally deadly dance.

Now, we come to the not-so-great stuff.

First off, the marketing. The show was marketed and advertised as an action fantasy show and while there is action and it is excellent, it's not an "action" show. The main focus of the show is on the characters and the internal power struggle of the Gong family. There are also whole scenes, sometimes making up the bulk of an entire episode which are just conversations. I've seen a lot of viewers disappointed and it makes sense. they thought they were coming for action and instead they got verbose conversations.

The pacing also comes to a near-halt in some of these scenes and instead we're treated to lengthy expositions which isn't necessarily a bad thing but it becomes tedious when it happens repetitively.

Now, let's come to the worst thing about the show, it's ending, specifically the last 5 minutes. This end is ridiculously mindbogglingly bad when you consider that there is almost no confirmation on a 2nd season. It's just such a bad idea to end on a cliffhanger like this. If they wanted to leave things open for a potential 2nd season, they could have ended with the Wufeng elders coming together at that character's home, possibly to hold them ransom or something, like literally anything else.

if you're planning on watching this show and I do recommend it, keep in mind that it does get slow and don't watch the last 5 mins of the show. Trust me, you'll like the show a whole lot more if you follow that approach.

Part 2 HERE

[stephspurs]

A Family Affair | Euro 2020 Football Fanfiction

Hi besties!! here is the long awaited part 9!! I hope you all enjoy it as much as I did whilst writing it!! a big thank you goes to @emwritesfootball for proofing this part & making sure its up to scratch for all of you lovely readers! Let me know what you think babes hehehe!! Love Always, Steph xx

Part 9. | nona parte

word count; 2006. writing tools; third person until dashed line, first person thereafter. next update; Friday 13/08 5pm AEST. Updates are three times/week (Monday, Wednesday & Friday)! tags (as requested by users); @footballffbarbiex @obsesseds-world @abysshaven link to fic masterlist here

The season kicked off in the middle of August and Amelia had been more than prepared for her first match in the premier league. She spent day after day analysing the players in the first team, introducing them to the magical world of rehearsed tactics. It wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows for the brilliant girl; she had to learn how to implement the plays coupled with the speed of the game. But so far, so good. Chelsea have been winning and her plays have been working, the boys were getting the hang of it - no matter how apprehensive they were at the start.

Jorgi played a big part in demonstrating the success of the play, performing best in his midfield role to guide the game and direct the change in play to his teammates. By the time they had played a few fixtures, they had really gotten the hang of her approach to set pieces and began to put their trust in the young girl. They were starting to see results and wanted to keep the winning streak going while they could. The fourth fixture in the new season was one that Amelia was looking forward to, personally: Chelsea v Aston Villa, Stamford Bridge, 3pm kick off.

Jack and Amelia had grown closer and closer, FaceTime‘dates’ as Jack would call them, a weekly occurrence. She had spoken to him just as much as she had spoken to Jorgi - and they were still carpooling to and from Cobham together. Her friendship with Jack was full of easy conversation and flirtatious banter, teetering over the line of friendship but being that they were kept physically apart, the friendship line remained largely intact. One person that had drifted even further away from her, despite her believing that it couldn't be possible, was Ben Chilwell.

Every time she walked into a room that he was in, if he didn't have to be there he would immediately leave. Amelia didn’t understand what the problem was. Yeah sure, they were flirty together in Mykonos but they never crossed a line together, no matter how many times the wine went straight to their heads. If anything, she should be the one running away from him. She was the one who sent him a couple of messages here and there that he just opened. She spoke to Mason, Jorgi, Billy Gilmour - who was another one of the boys she had developed a strong friendship with - and all of them insisted they didn’t understand their friend's strange behaviour.

On the evening before the Villa match, Amelia was laying on the couch in her townhouse binge watching yet another docu-series on Netflix when her doorbell rang. This was strange, most people that came past the house these days had their own set of keys (her parents, her brother, Jorgi) or they texted to let her know they were outside. Her townhouse was three stories high, so if she was upstairs on the top level vacuuming the chances of her hearing the door were slim to none. Either way, she got up off of her loveseat  and walked to the front door, peeking through the peephole - she lived in London, alone, she wasn’t opening that door until she knew exactly who was on the other side.

______________________________________________________________

“To what do I owe this visit, Benjamin?”

“Hi, Mils.”

“Wow, nickname basis already - I thought only friends called each other by their nicknames.”

“Did you think we weren’t friends?”

“Well, friends don’t treat friends the way you’ve treated me since the evening I left Mykonos.”

With a sigh, Ben looked down at his feet. I did feel a small bit of guilt for that one, but he deserved it. Continuing to find the cracks in the marble step of my door’s threshold more interesting than facing my expression, I took a step back and forced Ben to look up at me.

“Well, are you going to come inside? I’ve got the kettle on and a really good series going that I would like to get back to.”

With a charming smile, Ben took a step forward, took the door handle out of my hand and shut it behind him. Slipping out of his shoes, he followed me down the short hallway to my kitchen and pulled a seat out at the island bench.

“So, really now - why are you here? Nervous about tomorrow?” I questioned as I took two cups out of the cupboard and brewed one tea for him, one coffee for me. 3 years in Italy and coffee in the evening became the norm for me. It was my comfort drink.

“I’m here to apologise for the way I've been acting towards you for the past six weeks. I’ll be honest, I don’t know why I’ve been like this”

“Cut the crap Ben, you know exactly why you’ve been doing it. Now tell me the truth or, as far as I'm concerned, you never came here tonight and tomorrow we will be back to how we were yesterday - you running away from me and me pretending that it doesn't bother me. Even though all it does is bother me.” Not expecting that outburst to come out of me, and to be fair neither did I, Ben looked me in the eye and stayed silent, choosing his next words carefully.

“The first time I saw you, the night you told your brother off in the rec room at St. George’s Park, I thought you were the most determined woman I had ever seen in my life. Not scared of the 30 grown men who were very obviously all on the same side, literally. Then the next time I saw you, after the final match, how you comforted your brother when you were at the highest of highs and he was lower than low, I thought you had more compassion than every person in that stadium put together.”

“When you came to SGP again the next day and delivered the tactical analysis of the game you won, I thought ‘wow she is so intellectually brilliant’. And then when you turned up in Mykonos, all sunkissed and relaxed, sitting next to me and involving me in conversation with my pals but making me feel like you wanted my contribution...I remember it like it was yesterday. Amelia, you smiled at me and my heart did a somersault in my chest.”

“You shut me down outside the club that evening, and when we came back inside I caught the end of your conversation with Jorgi about Fede. Putting two and two together, I understood all that I needed to. The few days after that we carried on like normal. Then, you left and I didn't know if I would ever see you again to be fair. When you messaged me, I got too nervous to reply because I didn't know how to just be your friend. And then when I thought I had finally gotten through a day without thinking about my friend's little sister, you showed up at Cobham as my tactical analyst. I didn’t know what to do Mils, I don't know how to be just your friend when I've had nothing but unfriendly thoughts about you since the first time I saw you command that room of men you had never met in your life.”

The whistle of the kettle ringing out behind me is the only noise filling the kitchen. I’m staring at Ben; he’s staring back at me with nothing but truth behind his eyes and his heart on his sleeve.

“Benj, what you were feeling, what you are feeling is totally valid and I never want you to feel like you can’t share those feelings with me. You’re right, Mykonos changed things for me. What you were feeling was reciprocated, but Ben, I was going back to Italy. At that exact moment, I had no idea I would end up here. I thought I was enjoying a break before another high-intensity season in Italy. I wanted to kiss you so badly at the club that night, but I knew it would only hurt you. I’m used to being hurt, it's a feeling I've grown to expect. But you, you’re too pure to experience the kind of hurt that comes along with knowing you’re making a bad decision, but doing it anyway, because I wanted to be selfish with your heart.”

“Amelia, can I ask you something?” I nodded, holding my breath as I braced myself for the question poised behind his eyes. “If you were in the mood to be selfish, what would have come from that evening?”

“I can probably show you better than I can tell you,”

Walking around the island bench, I pulled the back of Ben’s chair slightly so he pivoted towards me. Standing in between his tracksuit-covered legs, I ran both hands up his arms until I got to his neck and finally beside his face. Threading my fingers through his hair, I pulled his face towards mine and our lips met. It was as soft as a butterfly kiss but as powerful as anything I had ever felt before. His hands wound around my waist and settled themselves on the small of my back before travelling down and giving my backside a gentle caress, forcing a laugh out of my lips and straight into his mouth. Pulling away slightly, so we both had a bit of breathing space to sort out our lightheadedness, Ben spoke his next words very softly.

“I need you to promise me something, Amelia.You need to promise me that you will stop thinking about my heart before your own. I am old enough to make my own decisions, and the decision to ignore you for these past few weeks has been one of the worst ones I've made in a really long time. But I did make it, and it was because I got scared, and I hurt you, and I am so sorry. The decision to come here tonight however, I feel like it more than makes up for that one very very stupid one”

“You’re such a smooth talker, Benj.”

“Say my name again, Mils, you don’t know what it does to me.”

“Down boy, your tea is going cold and I need to find out who killed Sophie in West Cork.Meet me in the lounge.”

A few hours had passed and it was nearing 10pm, well past Amelia’s bed time, but Ben was still sitting on her couch, feet on the table (despite her telling him to remove them) and arm around the back of her shoulders.

“Chilly, I don’t want you to think I'm not interested in you because I so am, I just don’t want to rush into anything. What I left behind in Italy was complicated and heavy; I'm still trying to learn how to exist without him if I'm honest. I want you to just give me the space I need to grow into my own here in the city, if that’s okay with you.”

“Of course it's okay, Mils. From what Jorgi has told me about Fede, I can understand why you want to take it slow now. But please, don’t call me Chilly. My friends call me Chilly, and Mills. I thought I made it clear before that I don’t want to be your friend.”

“To me, you’re Benj. Thank you. Wait - what do you mean what Jorgi has told you about Fede?”

“I may have asked a couple times about you, and for the record, he is team Bamelia.”

“Bamelia? That is the ugliest word I have ever heard. Never use it again.”

“How can it be ugly? It's mostly your name, and nothing associated with you could ever be considered anything less than beautiful.”

“Stop being so smooth Benj, you’re going to make me blush in a minute.”

“Good, can’t wait to see how you could possibly look even cuter than you do right now.”

“That’s enough Benjamin.”

“Okay I’m done now.”

Part 10. | parte dieci

[aspenroman]

and i saw sparks (jaque x mc)

Summary: MC struggles to pick up the pieces after her catastrophic fight with Jaque.

Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort

Word Count: 2515

A/N: I caved and bought VIP and binged Ms. Match. I adored it, it was so fucking funny but I wish there was more angst. This is my continuation of Chapter 12 and 13 but with more sadness. Inspired by the song “sparks” by coldplay. bold and italicized words are lyrics from the song

did i drive you away? i know what you’ll say

MC can’t focus on anything besides the rushing of blood in her ears. Her entire nervous system is overwhelmed by everything going on, especially the betrayal by Jaque. Her dad has disappeared, run off somewhere and instead of being able to chase after him, she’s stuck here with her, in a dumb argument.

“You threw Veronica, my dad, me, and your own integrity under the bus tonight, Jaque. You can’t talk your way out of this one,” MC screams.

Jaque rolls her eyes, “You backed me into a corner! I had no choice! No good choice! Veronica likes your dad! A lot! Richard was the only one who might be able to win against that connection.”

you’ll say, “sing one we know”

“Veronica could be happy with my dad. That’s what she asked us to find her. Love. I can’t believe you forgot what this is all about.”

Jaque laughs, her annoyingly beautiful face contorting into a sneer, “No, you forgot what this is all about.”

She began to pace as she spoke, practically spinning in place as she huffs. MC watches on, her fists clenched.

“When does what I want get to matter? When do I get to live my dreams? Why do I have to fight you for the position of my dreams?” Jaque shouts, her voice cracking at the end with emotion.

i promise you this, i’ll always look out for you

Deep down, MC feels sympathy for her. But the twinge of sympathy is buried by overflowing anger and hurt. She pushes any kind feelings aside, focusing instead on her rage.

“You’re insane,” MC breathes.

i say “oh”, i say “oh”

Jaque turns on her, laughing bitterly, “Insane? I’m insane? What’s insane is that you managed to blunder your way to the finale. I spent a decade earning my position, you’re lucky I brought you to the gala. I’m the only reason you’re here.”

“Lucky? I don’t feel very lucky to have met you right now,” MC shakes her head, “I really thought you were more than...more than this. I thought you were more than the woman I met forever ago. I thought you had morals, I thought you had a heart, I thought...”

“You thought what?” Jaque’s voice lowers from a shout, but her tone is still strained with frustration.

my heart is yours, it’s you that i hold on to

“I thought you loved me, the same way I love you,” MC smiles weakly, but her eyes water.

Jaque doesn’t meet her eyes. MC takes a step forward and Jaque steps back.

“Well, you thought wrong. It was always about the competition, love was never in the equation,” Jaque says tersely, “what we had wasn’t love. It was lust.”

yeah that’s what i do

“You’re telling me you took me to meet your mom just so Richard could get those flowers? You’re telling me all those times you showed up unannounced, all those secret glances and touches were fake? All a part of some elaborate plan?” MC questions.

“Yeah,” Jaque still doesn’t meet her eyes, “and you played right into my plans. I barely had to lift a finger, you were too busy falling to realize I was never going to catch you.”

MC freezes, the words finally sinking in. She can feel the gazes of hundreds of people on her, watching her heart shatter into billions of pieces. Some sadistic part of her hopes that the fragments manage to hurt Jaque, but MC knows that’s not really how this works. She knows she gave her heart to someone who was never really hers.

It makes sense now. All the dancing around labels, all the sneaking around in favor of “not breaking the rules”. All the things Jaque spew about her family, in an effort to get MC to trust her. Jaque was right about one thing, she had more experience professionally. And in that moment, it seemed to MC that Jaque used every technique to get MC to think they were perfect matches.

i say “oh”, i cry “oh”

MC can’t get her brain to form words, all she can concentrate on is not falling completely apart. Her eyes sting, but she doesn’t look up, she can’t. Instead, she trains her gaze on the road a few feet away. She doesn’t say anything as she goes, she just starts in one direction.

Jaque yells after her, but the words don’t even phase her. In fact, MC can’t even remember what she said. She walks for miles, away from the gaudy life of the rich Upstate New Yorkers and back toward where she thinks the city is. It takes almost an hour before she spots a cab and manages to flag it down. It’s a miracle she even finds one, and she gets in and mumbles her address.

She hugs herself in the back of the cab, eyes staring unseeingly out the window. Soon enough, the bright lights of the city that never sleeps come into view. She thinks it should be a comfort, but it doesn’t help. When MC finally gets to her place, she pays the fare and stumbles up into her apartment.

As soon as the door is unlocked, she walks inside and slams it behind her. MC barely manages to lock it before her legs give out and she crumbles to the ground. Her chest heaves for breath, her throat closing up as she panics. Tears stream down her cheeks, unable to control herself anymore. Her nails dig into her palms, trying desperately to calm herself down.

yeah, i saw sparks

She’s had panic attacks before, more so in the past few months because of the matchmaking business. Although then she had Jaque to call up and now she has no one. She can’t rationalize how Jaque would be willing to call her at 2am, to hold her through breakdowns, and not care an ounce about her.

yeah, i saw sparks

MC tries to intellectualize her feelings, tries to calm herself down the way Jaque taught her to, but nothing works. Nothing works because everything reminds her of Jaque and Jaque is the one causing her this pain. Her heart aches and for a second, she thinks she might be dying as her chest tightens. A pain from behind her sternum makes it hard to breathe and she loses her breath, before it releases in a big sob. 

She’s not okay.

---

Maggie tries to come over the next day, but MC can’t face her. She ignores Maggie’s desperate knocking, pretending that she’s asleep and turns her phone off completely. The rest of the weekend passes in a daze, MC unable to do anything but stare at the ceiling and dwell in her feelings.

When Monday rolls around, MC knows it’s time to pull herself together. She doesn’t know how she will, but she has to. 

“No competition is worth this,” she murmurs to herself as she pulls on her favorite blouse and a pair of dress pants. She fixes her hair in the bathroom mirror, putting on makeup to cover the bags underneath her eyes. Her eyes are still swollen and a bit red, but she tries not to draw attention to them.

She finally turns her phone on as she enters the building, her phone vibrating with a billion messages. Most are from Maggie, while some are surprisingly from Jaque. MC doesn’t even bother reading them as she sees the text from Veronica, summoning her to her office.

and i saw sparks

MC knocks on the office door and after a second, she enters. Unsurprisingly, Jaque is already there, engaged in deep conversation with Veronica. They both turn to her as she enters.

“Where have you been?” Veronica speaks, “I’ve been trying to contact you all weekend.”

“Family stuff, won’t happen again,” MC lies, forcing on a smile.

“Good,” Veronica pinches the bridge of her nose, “onto more pressing matters, we’ve had an unexpected request from-”

Veronica keeps talking, but MC tunes her out. Instead, she keeps her eyes glued to the space behind Veronica’s head. MC can feel Jaque’s intense gaze on her, but she refuses to look at her. She doesn’t think she can bear it right now.

“Dismissed,” Veronica finishes and MC nods, swiftly leaving the room. She walks briskly down the hall and into her office. 

Sunlight streams through her windows. Without hesitation, MC slams the blinds closed, plunging the room into darkness. She closes and locks her office door before settling into her chair. The room feels colder somehow, without the presence of either Maggie or Jaque.

MC takes a shaky breath, resting her elbows on the table. She closes her eyes, putting her head between her hands. The darkness of the room brings her comfort. She doesn’t know how much time she spends like that, before she finally pulls herself together.

Turning on her computer, she searches the database for the person Veronica was talking about. MC missed most of the debriefing, but luckily the system had already assigned the client to her and Jaque. She spends some time going through the man’s profile, making notes in a separate document. 

Hours pass like that, MC hunched over her computer and trying to make sense of this “unmatchable” person and finding people who might like him. She has spreadsheet after spreadsheet, trying to do things the analytical way. Jaque’s way, her brain reminds her and it stirs up a bitter feeling.

“I can’t fucking do this,” MC mumbles, standing up from her chair. She can’t matchmake when her own love life is in shambles, when every piece of advice she used and gave to other people made her blind. How can she give advice out, when no one loves her? She has no prospects anymore, it’s pathetic. 

MC paces back and forth, trying to decide what to do. Suddenly, there’s a knock at the door and she freezes.

yeah, i saw sparks

“I know you’re in there,” Jaque’s voice rings out, “everyone else already went home. It’s almost seven.”

MC glances at her phone, to see Jaque’s words are true. She doesn’t even feel hungry, even though she hasn’t eaten today. She just feels empty. Without saying anything, MC sits down in front of the door, resting her back against it.

“Can you unlock the door? Can we talk, please?” Jaque pleads.

“I don’t want to talk to you,” MC says plainly, her voice hoarse still from their screaming match.

“I get it,” Jaque’s voice is softer and MC can hear her sit down on the other side of the door, “just give me five minutes, that’s all I ask.”

“Okay,” MC concedes, closing her eyes.

“I lied on Friday, okay? I was angry and I took it out on you. Veronica’s been like...like family to me. I thought that maybe if her and Richard could get back together, it would be like fixing my parents’ divorce. And I... I was jealous. You’re a really good matchmaker, like really good. And, it’s scary,” Jaque tells her.

“This competition isn’t worth it,” MC ignores most of her statement, “you can have the CEO spot. I’m quitting anyways.”

“What?” Jaque says.

“If I can’t even keep my personal life from falling apart, I shouldn’t be a matchmaker,” MC’s voice cracks, “everything I’ve told my clients, I followed and it didn’t work out. I shouldn’t be here.”

“You should be here, you deserve to be here, are you...are you crying?” Jaque’s voice is surprisingly gentle.

“No,” MC sniffles, tears running down her cheeks.

“Please, just open the door MC, let me explain,” Jaque murmurs, “please baby.”

MC rubs at her eyes, taking in a shaky breath as she stands up and reluctantly unlocks the door. She takes a step back. The door gently swings open, light from the hall flooding into the room.

Jaque is silhouetted by the light, and MC hates how effortlessly put together she seems. Still, when Jaque takes a step forward, MC sees the tears in her eyes.

sing it out

Jaque takes one look at her and then breaks out into sobs. Alarmed, MC’s eyes widen as Jaque’s shoulders shake. She takes a hesitant step forward before wrapping her arms around her. Jaque leans into the embrace.

“I lied, okay? I lied,” Jaque says through sobs, “I love you, I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone in my life and I thought that if I just pushed you away I could win. But I can’t, I can’t deny what you make me feel. This competition isn’t worth losing you, nothing is worth losing you. You’re...you’re my match, MC. As soon as you left on Friday, I ran after you. I got into the first cab and made my way to your apartment. But I couldn’t even take a step inside, I’m a coward, okay? I...I thought pushing you away would solve my problems. But that’s not how this work, love isn’t something you can hide. Fuck the competition, fuck the CEO role, fuck everything. None of that means anything to me, if I can’t have you.”

Jaque clings to her, her fingertips digging into MC’s shoulder blades. MC is content with letting Jaque hurt her, if only to feel her in her arms one last time. 

“You really hurt me, Jaque, one apology won’t fix that,” MC says.

“I know, but would it help if we have makeup sex?” Jaque jokes before sniffling.

“You’re on thin ice,” MC rolls her eyes.

“...That wasn’t a no,” Jaque tells her.

MC pulls back, hitting her on the arm. Jaque yelps before a soft smile breaks out on her face.

“Just please stay here, even if you don’t want to take me back, that’s okay. Just please stay with the company, with Veronica, with-, with me,” Jaque says to her, eyes sparkling.

MC mulls it over before she nods, “Okay.”

“Can I kiss you, please?” Jaque says desperately.

MC rolls her eyes again before grabbing onto Jaque’s collar and pulling her close. Their lips meet, the taste of mint toothpaste mixing with the salt from their tears. It’s a slow, gentle kiss and MC is the first one to break it.

“Did you just brush your teeth?” MC murmurs.

Jaque grins, “Maybe.”

MC lets out a quiet laugh, “You’re a dork.”

“But I’m your dork,” Jaque says.

“You act like I forgive you already, one kiss won’t change that,” MC tells her honestly.

“I know, but it doesn’t hurt,” Jaque smiles before kissing her again.

When they finally pull away to breathe, Jaque grins at her. MC smiles up at her, a half-smile but it’s the most she can muster. The hurt from Jaque’s words won’t fade overnight and they’re far from being official, but MC feels a little less shaky about where they’re at. Maybe it would be good to take things slow, try and approach things like a normal couple would-

“Is it time for makeup sex?” Jaque whispers.

Or not.

[peachyproserpina]

Wickedly Domestic - Roommates and Puppies

Now that I am back on tumblr I figured I might as well upload my John Wick x Fat!OC fic here as well. Maybe I'll find the motivation to write it as well.

TW: Alternate Universe Canon Diverence, Mutual Pining, Slowburn, Sex

If I miss anything please let me know!

There is a consistent thunk, thunk, thunk of her roommates bed hitting the wall. Despite a whole floor separating them she could still hear the sounds of her roommate getting fucked into next week, literally. Usually Maria wouldn’t care that her roommates late at night shenanigans would run into the next morning but, there was more at stake on the agenda today than usual. Maria pressed her pillow over her ears and looked at her phone; it was almost 4 am Monday morning.

There was a meeting in downtown New York that she had to attend, which the commute was a little more intense then she usually had to deal with. Living and working in a suburb outside of New York City allowed for a stress and traffic free drive to work, usually 15 minutes or less, but driving into the city always was a hassle, that drive tends to be close to an hour. Maria rubbed at her eyes and unlocked her phone, she still had 3 hours before she had to be downtown. She felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up, this meeting was with the CEO. Those kinds of meetings either ended up in promotion or termination, she buried her face into her pillow. She could still hear the thunk and a few giggles from her roommate and company. Considering she was already up and too anxious to go back to bed she might as well get her workout in now instead of later.

Heaving herself up and out of bed with a groan she let out a yawn before looking around for her workout clothes. Pulling on her leggings and finding a clean shirt she fished around her room for her headphones. Despite living in New York state for a little over 3 months now she still hasn’t completely unpacked. Moving boxes were still stacked around the room and there was a stack of art needing to be hung up.

She wasn’t planning on moving when she did, the roommate who was busy getting fucked, offered her a place to stay. All she had to do was pay utilities and cook for the house once a week. The home had been a surprise to her roommate Cooper. An estranged great Aunt had willed it over to her, Cooper was already living in New York, and the full ride she received was barely enough to cover the dorm she had to split with 2 other people. When she was contacted by lawyers telling her she is now a proud homeowner and didn’t have to worry about student loans for the rest of her life.

One of the first things she did was reach out to Maria. Cooper was well aware of the tension at home, brewing in Maria’s family since they met in high-school. Unfortunately she had first hand seen more tear stained faces and frustration that Maria was put through. They spoke often and were close, promising to push each other to do amazing things. Sometimes amazing things means moving across the country but their love and friendship didn’t diminish over the distance. So offering the room

All Maria had to do was fund the move and drive 30 hours across the country. Dying to get out of the town she has spent her whole life, as well as always loving the east coast, she packed up, put in her two weeks at her current job and submitted an application to anywhere within a 10 mile radius of her new address. She thanked the stars when a local bank picked up her application and allowed for Skype and phone interviews, giving her the job before she even moved out there. She was introduced to her coworkers through a group chat and she fell into her role easily before she even met them in person.

The hardest part had been leaving old friends, leaving her family on the other hand had been a blessing. Her father and his side of the family had always been hard to please and any relationship with them over the last couple of years had been more of a formality than anything else. Her mother was a different story, tears were shed and a few fights were had due to this hasty decision on moving across the country. Maria’s mother had always wanted more for her daughter than what she currently had but packing up and leaving across the country in less than a month gave her mother bad feelings. Her mother backed off and gave Maria her blessing once she got her job, knowing how stubborn her daughter is once she puts her mind to something.

Her siblings had felt the same way, constant calls and texts were exchanged during the long drive while everyone was proud and knew she would be better for the move. It still hurt, promising to visit during holidays and letting them stay over if they ever visited. But it was like ripping off a bandaid. It had to be done or else it festers and could lead to infection, staying stagnant had been driving her crazy.

Once changed and headphones found under some papers she had been reviewing at her desk, she slid them over her ears and made her way upstairs, closing the door and making sure it was locked behind her. Her cat had the habit of running outside and getting lost or turning up at the local shelter and the last thing she needed was to also be worrying about her cat while she was working in the city.

She jogged down to the gate and opened it before she got into her car and made her way to the nature preserve just a few minutes away from her home. She could have ran there but she wasn’t quite ready to commit to the workout while the air was so chilly. By the time she has parked and started her stretches the world had started to wake up around her, birds chirping and the distant sounds of honking while she tried to figure out what playlist she wanted to run to. Deciding on something beat heavy she started down the trail that would lead over the swamp, it had been a while since she had run outside, usually opting to do her cardio in a class setting or on a treadmill while she binges whatever series she is watching on Netflix at the moment.

She was only half a mile in the trail before she had to stop for a moment. Her “ultra support” sports bra did not help as much as she hoped, having big tits was a blessing and a curse. They made working out hell on earth but it got her more free drinks at the bar then she would like to admit. But it also kept her from being able to run as much as she would like to before she has to stop and readjust.

She pulled out her phone and checked the time, quarter past 5 am, she still had time. She could do a mile before she went home and showered and get ready for a grueling day. She paused her music, taking deep breaths before she started up again, she thought she heard rustling behind her. Which despite being close to the city the swamp held more wildlife than she thought it would. She sat and listened, chancing a glance behind her. The sun was nearly up but running by herself in public always put her on edge. There was always the chance of someone grabbing her and doing whatever they would like to her, she shuddered and unlocked her phone, sending her location and a text as to when she would be back to the roommate group chat. Just in case she were to get snatched up at least her roommates would know where she was last.

She started up again, turning her music up all the way to drown out her heavy breathing and the sound of her feet hitting the trail. It wasn’t until she was almost across one of the many bridges in the nature preserve stretching her calf muscles when she felt something warm and slimy against the skin of her leg. She screamed and pulled her head phones off, looking down to see if she had unknowingly picked up a slug or if some creep had managed to sneak up on her. Letting out a sigh when she saw it was a small Beagle, whining and licking at her leg. She crouched down pet the dog who was whining at her feet.

“Hey baby, where are your parents?” She picked up the dog and looked it over, she saw a name tag, “Daisy- that’s a cute name. Matches my tattoo,” she flipped over the name tag and saw an address, thankful she wouldn't have to drop the dog off at home and try to find her owners later. Daisy fell asleep in her arms while she walked the pup back to her car, the thought on finishing her run gone from her mind. Once the dog was rested safely in her front seat and plugged the address into her phone. It was a quick drive back to the owners house thankfully, it was getting dangerously close to 6 am but she couldn’t not take the sleepy baby home.

She knew if her cat went missing longer than usual or her roommates dog she would be worried sick. No parent should be worried about their baby, that was the biggest motivator for her as she snaked through the neighborhood following her GPS until she pulled up to one of the biggest houses she had ever seen. She knew she lived in affluent part of the state but pulling up the gravel driveway of what was basically a mansion she started to sweat. The bouncing of her car woke the puppy up, who was happily wagging her tail, grateful to be home after wandering away in the early morning. Maria smiled, happy that the pup was glad to be home.

“Lets go baby, let's get you back home.” Daisy ran up the door and pawed at it. Maria knocked and waited a moment, when she didn’t hear any movement in the house she rang the doorbell. Daisy was sitting by her feet waiting patiently for the door to open, it felt like hours while she stood in the massive door hoping someone was home to take the pup in. In reality It had probably been only 5 or so minutes, she chanced a glance around the driveway and didn’t see a car. Figuring that whoever would have been home was gone she turned and started walking back to her car, calling for Daisy, she could take her home and try again after work. Knowing her roommates would be sympathetic to the lost puppy and take care of her until she could try again. It was then she heard the large door open. She turned and nearly lost her balance when she caught a glance at the man who opened the door.

[fi-chanwrites]

Read at 19:00

Pairing: Miya Atsumu x Reader Wordcount: 1.4k Warning: Angst (I’m sowwy), Atsumu being a dick, low-key cheating. A/N: AH HA HA this is based off things that have happened in the last like 2 months, buckle up buckaroo

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I love you. The message flashed up on your screen making your heart stop, you felt like you were suffocating, drowning in a sea of your own emotions. The onslaught of feelings making your eyes fill with tears and your mouth fill with the taste of bile. 

What? That's all you could respond to him, your mind fogging over with the thought of him liking you back. You were confused. But apparently so was he. He didn’t respond to you. He had opened the message. He had ignored you. You fell asleep with the sour taste of dread in your mouth.

It was the next morning and still no word from the boy plaguing your mind. You poured coffee and made yourself breakfast. Operating completely on autopilot the entire time. Your fingers were numb. Scratch that. Your entire body was numb, fear coursing through your veins making your blood run cold. Your face was blank as if in an intense game of poker was occurring but the cards were on the table now. He loved you? The question ran in circles around your brain like a dog chasing its tail. 

You could’ve seen it coming really. He had been furiously flirting with you for the past year but of course, in an attempt to protect your feelings, you never got your hopes up and he never confessed. You knew that Atsumu was a notorious flirt and you were not about to allow yourself to be caught in that trap. But you did get caught. You had been caught since the day you met it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You had met him through Osamu in the summer of your second year looking back you wished you hadn't. It was infatuation at first sight for you, he was charismatic, funny, and fucking gorgeous, 'Samu warned you against falling for him but you went and did it anyway, wrecking your heart in the process.

You and he were like fire and ice, you shouldn't have worked, your connection should have started and ended with his brother but the world had other ideas. fast forward one year and you were inseparable You would catch the train home together every single day, you became a manager for the volleyball team to make your schedules line up better, you spent the weekends in his room, watching some dumb show from America, crying with laughter, falling into each other, sharing each others warmth, cuddling on his bed until the sun sank so low on the horizon you had no choice but to leave.

"Ya looking real gorgeous today doll" 

"You say that every time you see me 'Stumu." You giggled, your heart clenching wildly at the words spilling from his beautiful mouth.

"And it's always true." He countered, flicking your nose with index finger making you flinch away from his touch.

The two of you walked in synch, hands swinging at your sides knocking your knuckles together, you were nearly holding his hand in yours, you could almost pretend you were together. The image in your mind was shattered by her. She ran up to the two of you, completely ignoring your existence to concentrate on the boy next to you, wrapping her lithe arms around his neck and practically hanging off of him as she shoved her tongue into his mouth. You looked away, giving the two privacy by walking away. Your heart sank to your feet as you walked away, each step feeling heavier and heavier.

"I like him Osamu, I really, really like him and I don't know what to do." You exclaimed, head falling to the desk with a thud and a sigh from your lips.

"Yer hopeless (y/n), and you're so much better than my brother." He mumbled, running his hand through your hair to soothe you.

"That's the thing though. I know what he's like. I know we wouldn't work out. And yet, I still find myself enraptured with the fucking idiot." Your words were muffled by the desk beneath your lips.

"I told ya to be careful but no, no one listens to Osamu." He teased, continuing his ministrations, almost sending you to sleep with the feeling of his course, callused fingers running across your scalp in circular motions.

"I'm sorry 'Samu, I'm an idiot, we all know I'm an idiot"

"No, your heart's just in the wrong place (y/n)" His mouth pulled in a tight line as the words fell from his mouth.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Another painful three years had passed. Atsumu had had a long string of horrible relationship after horrible relationship. You had struggled to keep a relationship for longer than a few months, all of them realising your love for Atsumu and not being able to compete with your schoolgirl crush on your best friend.

You just couldn't seem to get over the boy, and it didn't help that majority of your free time with him, continuing your traditions of binging shows on a Saturday but now you would stay with him, cuddling long into the night, wrapped in each other's arms and also wrapped in your mind, your need for him growing with each passing second.

Those moments were fleeting, you could pretend that you were with him for one night at a time but the moments had to end, you had to go home at some point, the illusion had to be broken. He never stopped his flirting though, and it never stopped making your heart flutter.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 15:00, it was 3 pm and still nothing. 16:00. Finally, your phone flashed, his name coming up on the screen.

Assumu is typing... Those three words were enough to make your heart race, your fingers hovered over the notification, daring to open up the app. Message from Assumu. Assumu: Aha sorry babe, I don't remember sending that. You: Oh Assumu: Yeah, I was really drunk last night. You: ok. You: So you meant nothing by it? Assumu: I mean I say it to my friends all the time.

You dropped your phone, the clattering shaking you from your reverie, so he meant nothing by it. Your heart had been thrown into a strange dance all night for him to not mean anything. You contemplated confessing, getting it all off your chest, letting the words hang in the air, you might finally get a break from the aching in your chest. You might be able to breathe again. You might be able to think of things other than him when getting into a relationship. It might give you the chance to be free of him. You: Okay, this is really difficult for me to actually say but like when I saw that message from you from last night my heart just dropped. I've liked you for years Atsumu and I never said anything because I never wanted things between us to be weird or just have you not want to talk to me anymore. But that's why you flirting with me always made me uncomfortable because I knew you didn't see me the same way I saw you. I don't want you to feel like you have to respond and return the feelings, I just said what I've been meaning to say for four years. I hope we can stay friends after all this. You waited. Ten minutes. Twenty minutes. An hour. Still nothing but radio silence. Tears tracked their way down your face, sobs wracked your frame, the pain you felt stabbing into your heart was like a white-hot dagger. Then your phone lit up once more. Assumu: I'm so sorry babe. I really never knew you felt that way. I don't feel the same. I never have, I never will. I'm talking to someone and have been for a few months now. The text last night meant nothing. Your knees buckled underneath you and you fell onto your kitchen floor, the mug that was in your hand shattering on the floor next to you. You couldn't breathe. Your lungs failed you at that moment, the pain spreading throughout your chest.

You: I’m sorry Read at 19:00 Atsumu had shattered your heart once more, and this time there was no one there to pick up the pieces.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[richincolor]

We've got six books on our radar this week! Did we miss anything? What's on your TBR list?

The Other Side of Perfect by Mariko Turk Little Brown/Poppy

Alina Keeler was destined to dance, but one terrifying fall shatters her leg--and her dreams of a professional ballet career along with it.

After a summer healing (translation: eating vast amounts of Cool Ranch Doritos and binging ballet videos on YouTube), she is forced to trade her pre-professional dance classes for normal high school, where she reluctantly joins the school musical. However, rehearsals offer more than she expected--namely Jude, her annoyingly attractive cast mate she just might be falling for.

But to move forward, Alina must make peace with her past and face the racism she had grown to accept in the dance industry. She wonders what it means to yearn for ballet--something so beautiful, yet so broken. And as broken as she feels, can she ever open her heart to someone else?

Where the Rhythm Takes You by Sarah Dass Balzer + Bray

Seventeen-year-old Reyna has spent most of her life at her family’s gorgeous seaside resort in Tobago, the Plumeria. But what once seemed like paradise is starting to feel more like purgatory. It’s been two years since Reyna’s mother passed away, two years since Aiden – her childhood best friend, first kiss, first love, first everything – left the island to pursue his music dreams. Reyna’s friends are all planning their futures and heading abroad. Even Daddy seems to want to move on, leaving her to try to keep the Plumeria running.

And that's when Aiden comes roaring back into her life – as a VIP guest at the resort.

Aiden is now one-third of DJ Bacchanal – the latest, hottest music group on the scene. While Reyna has stayed exactly where he left her, Aiden has returned to Tobago with his Grammy-nominated band and two gorgeous LA socialites. And he may (or may not be) dating one of them…

Inspired by Jane Austen's Persuasion, Where the Rhythm Takes You is a romantic, mesmerizing novel of first love and second chances.

From Little Tokyo, with Love by Sarah Kuhn Viking Books for Young Readers

If Rika’s life seems like the beginning of a familiar fairy tale–being an orphan with two bossy cousins and working away in her aunts’ business–she would be the first to reject that foolish notion. After all, she loves her family (even if her cousins were named after Disney characters), and with her biracial background, amazing judo skills and red-hot temper, she doesn’t quite fit the princess mold.

All that changes the instant she locks eyes with Grace Kimura, America’s reigning rom-com sweetheart, during the Nikkei Week Festival. From there, Rika embarks on a madcap adventure of hope and happiness–searching for clues about her long-lost mother, exploring Little Tokyo’s hidden treasures with a cute actor, and maybe…finally finding a sense of belonging.

But fairy tales are fiction and the real world isn’t so kind. Rika knows she’s setting herself up for disappointment, because happy endings don’t happen to girls like her. Should she walk away before she gets in even deeper, or let herself be swept away?

Illusionary (Hollow Crown #2) by Zoraida Cordova Little, Brown Books for Young Readers

Reeling from betrayal at the hands of the Whispers, Renata Convida is a girl on the run. With few options and fewer allies, she's reluctantly joined forces with none other than Prince Castian, her most infuriating and intriguing enemy. They're united by lofty goals: find the fabled Knife of Memory, kill the ruthless King Fernando, and bring peace to the nation. Together, Ren and Castian have a chance to save everything, if only they can set aside their complex and intense feelings for each other.

With the king's forces on their heels at every turn, their quest across Puerto Leones and beyond leaves little room for mistakes. But the greatest danger is within Ren. The Gray, her fortress of stolen memories, has begun to crumble, threatening her grip on reality. She'll have to control her magics--and her mind--to unlock her power and protect the Moria people once and for all.

For years, she was wielded as weapon. Now it's her time to fight back.

Angel & Hannah: A Novel in Verse by Ishle Park One World

Hannah, a Korean American girl from Queens, New York, and Angel, a Puerto Rican boy from Brooklyn, fall in love in the spring of 1993. Hannah, who comes from a strict Korean home, meets Angel, a free and beautiful boy, at a quinceañera:

Beyond flushed, sweating bodies pushed, pushing like cattle below black & buzzing speakers, under a torn pink streamer loose as a tendril of hair--lush-- his eyes. Darkluminous. Warm. A blush floods her. Hannah sucks in her breath, but can't pull back. Music fades. A hush he's a young buck in the underbrush, still in a disco ball dance of shadow & light Their forbidden love instantly and wildly blooms along the Jackie Robinson Expressway.

Told in seasons Angel & Hannah holds all of the tension and cadence of blank verse while adding dynamic and expressive language, creating new kinds of engrossing and magnetic forms. The hip-hop sonnets and poems are dynamic, arresting, observant, and magical, conveying the intimacies and sacrifices of love and addiction and the devastating realities of struggle and loss.

Committed to cultural details and the vernacular of Queens and Brooklyn, this is a hip-hop love story, not of the Capulets and the Montagues, but two New York City kids trying to survive and grow within their families and communities, driven by an all-consuming love.

The Eid Gift: An Adam and Zayneb Story by S.K. Ali Simon & Schuster

Even though it’s during Ramadan, a month of fasting and spiritual devotion, A and Z can’t help spending any and all free time with each other. Enter parents and their idea for a nikah at the end of Ramadan, on Eid day itself.

Which would appear to be the greatest Eid gift of all — except that, unbeknownst to each other, A and Z have been working on spectacularly surprising Eid gifts for the other all along.

The only thing? In true “The Gift of the Magi” fashion, these Eid gifts are at complete odds with the other. Along with a nikah day over-run with “benevolent” family interferences, A and Z are up for either recording this Eid as the best one ever, as a real marvel...or as a completely upsetting oddity.

Author's Note: WHEN IT TAKES PLACE:

The Eid Gift is a part of the Love from A to Z storyline; it occurs shortly before the epilogue. (If you haven’t read Love from A to Z yet, please consider doing so before reading this story—some of what occurs will not make sense otherwise.)

SOMETHING TO KEEP IN MIND:

While there’s nothing explicit in the story, it is more mature than S. K. Ali’s previous YA novels—there’s more physical touch here than in Love from A to Z— so readers are asked to exercise awareness of their reading comfort zones.

[nerdyfangirl67]

If You Only Knew - Criminal Minds Reader Insert

Pairing: Hotch x reader

Warning: angst, language, depressing thoughts, fluff ending!

Word count: 1725

Something takes place between Hotch and the reader. The reader tries to live without him but soon realizes that he is her grounding force.

A/N: I got the idea for this one from the song If You Only Knew by Shindown. I suggest listening to it at some point when reading this, or before, because it really adds to the mood. Perfectly okay to read it without though. It was a bad day for me so I didn’t get this proofread. If you find anything, and I haven’t gone through and fixed it, you can totally let me know.

Numb. All you had felt for the last month was numb. Sure, you had felt pain in the beginning, followed swiftly by anger and then rejection, but for the last month, all you could remember being was numb.

When he had been in your life, you had never realized how much he grounded you, in a good way. His presence alone had you feeling as though you could achieve anything you set your mind to. Now though, he was gone. And you had come to realize that you were floating away, with nothing to hold you in place.

Aaron had left with barely a warning. He gave you the simple, “I’m not good for you” speech and had walked away. You hadn’t believed that he was the kind of person who would do that, especially because you had quickly and quietly given him your heart in the short year the two of you had been together.

The first week after he left, when all you felt was pain, you had spent on your couch, surrounded by used Kleenex, empty ice cream containers, and all the comedy DVDs you owned. You had hoped that if you stayed there long enough, it would all turn out to be a dream. A cruel, pointless dream, but a dream none the less. Then, after forcing yourself out of your pit of despair, you had written letters. Letters intended for Aaron, that you used as an outlet for everything you felt for him. You wrote letter after letter, sometimes three a day, but you never sent them. You had gotten as far as addressing the envelopes, and even put stamps on a few.

As the rejection crept in on the pain squeezing your heart, you had spent many a night surrounded by empty bottles of cheap beer and an increasing need to see him, to hear him, and feel him, as you used to. There were even the handful of nights you had driven all the way to his apartment building, intent on giving him a piece of your mind and admittedly wanting to see him again outside of the Aaron in your longing  imagination. Yet, all you ever ended up doing was sitting outside of the building in your car, some nights for hours.

Then after a few weeks of pain and building resentment towards him and what he did, you stopped feeling anything at all. Period. It was as if all the feelings you had ever felt, or would ever feel, were simply gone. Try as you might, you couldn’t find joy in any of the things you used to. And you hated yourself for it. You hated that, in the last year, your happiness had become dependent on your relationship with Aaron.

At this point, you had used all of your vacation days, and even some sick days, from work. The thought alone that you might run into Aaron when you returned, even though you worked in the Cyber Crimes unit on a different floor, had you scrambling to try and come up with an excuse good enough to earn you a few more weeks off. In the end, you were unable to come up with such an excuse.

Your first day back was a Monday and had you been thinking clearly, you may not have told your best friend, who just so happened to work for the FBI as well, that you would be returning. You didn’t think you would be able to fake having actually been on vacation, rather than experiencing one of the most painful breakups of your life. Especially if your best friend was the ever-enthusiastic Penelope Garcia.

But you hadn’t thought enough about your return, other than how you were going to avoid Aaron, so when you walk your desk Monday morning and see Penelope waiting there for you, you quickly have to decide whether to tell her the truth or make up a vacation story.

“Oh Y/N/N, what happened?” Apparently Penelope didn’t have to be a profiler to read you. You grab your chair and roll it towards her, resting your head on her shoulder when you get there.

You didn’t even know where to start. Penelope knew you had been dating someone, just not who. “I--my, uh boyfriend left, I guess. He decided he wasn’t good enough for me or some shit like that.”

Penelope grabs your hand gently, lacing her fingers with yours. “He still loves you.” Her simple words have you sitting up and looking her in the eyes.

“What? How do you know?” The slight confusion is evident in your voice.

“It’s so obvious Y/N who ‘he’ is. You guys are always giving each other googly eyes. And ‘he’ has been a real mess these last couple weeks.” You feel both a sense of relief, at not having to hide the truth from your best friend any longer, and an intense wave of pain, one that you hadn’t felt for weeks, at the thought of Aaron suffering.

“I-I can’t. I don’t know what to say to him. All I want is to feel his arms around me and for him to tell me ‘everything is going to be all right’.” You whisper, no longer able to hold back the truth of what you were feeling.

“Oh baby, you gotta tell him. He won’t come to you, he’s too stubborn.” She gently states, giving the hand you were holding a soft squeeze.

You nod your head in agreement and after a few minutes of small talk with Penelope and a promise for a girls’ night soon, you get to work on the pile of case files on your desk. The day drags by slowly, with you only risking leaving your desk for lunch and the occasional bathroom break.

——-

The week continued in a similar fashion. You worked close to your desk, with little interaction to anyone outside of your unit, other than Penelope. You were caught up on all the paperwork that had piled up on your desk by six o’ clock Friday evening and decided to head home.

After a quick stop at the supermarket, in which more bottles of wine than you actually needed end up in your cart, you arrive home. You are quick to change into lounging clothes and pour yourself a glass of wine before moving to the couch. Turning on your favorite TV show, you binge-watch late into the night.

It’s one AM before you finally drag yourself to bed. And although it’s the middle of the night, you have trouble falling asleep. In fact, you spend a majority of the remaining hours until dawn tossing and turning in bed.

When you do finally look at the clock, after a night of little sleep, the time, 4:03 in bright white digits, stares back at you. You let out a sigh of defeat as you push away the covers and climb out of bed. It is as if your body is on auto-pilot as you unconsciously pull on a pair of sneakers and slip on a hoodie. You quickly make your way through your apartment building, down the stairs and out to the parking lot.

You are halfway to Aaron’s apartment before you truly realize what you’re doing. Even once you do realize where you’re headed, you keep going. You were tired of being apart from the man you loved and even if all you get is ten minutes with him, you were going to make it worth it.

Ten minutes later you were knocking rapidly on Aaron’s door. A moment of silence follows before the door is being swung open. You shove past Aaron, not wanting him to slam the door in your face. He turns to you, watching you but not speaking. His eyes, usually the color of warm whiskey, are darker now. His brow is creased and his stance tense.

“What are you doing here?” He asks in an emotionless tone.

Your heart jumps to your throat and you struggle to get the words out. “I-I can’t do this Aaron. I can’t spend my life having let you go. I know it’s cheesy,...but you, and Jack. are quite literally the ones who make me complete. I tried Aaron, I did. But you and Jack are all I need and now that I know what it is like without you, I can’t ever live that life.”

Aaron’s eyes scan your body hungrily and you take a step towards him, holding a hand out as you gently approach him. He doesn’t move as you tentatively brush a lock of hair away from his forehead. Standing this close to him, you notice the dark circles under his eyes and the wrinkled appearance of his T-shirt. He doesn’t move when you touch him so you close the remaining space between you.

“Kiss me?” You ask softly, your voice thick with want and anticipation.

He doesn’t move right away, but suddenly his lips are roughly pressed against yours. You kiss him back with an equal amount of need and intensity. You feel him weave a hand into your hair and grab your hip to pull you closer to him. You grip the front of his T-shirt tightly in your hands. The kiss continues until the two of you break apart for air.

You pant lightly, keeping your hands on his chest. He removes his hands from your body, placing them over yours. The warmth fades from his eyes and is replaced with a serious glint.

“You deserve better than me. I’m never home, I work all the time and whenever I am free, I spend time with Jack. You deserve someone who will take you out for dates, who will be there to fall asleep with you, and give you the life you want.” As he speaks he moves to put space between the two of you.  

You shake your head violently. “No. You are all I want.” Your voice is firm as you take a step closer to him. He stares at you for a long moment, not moving or speaking. Then he hesitantly steps forward and wraps you into a tight embrace. You lean your head against his chest, listening to the dull thud of his heart. And for the first time in weeks, you feel whole.

[khunfounded]

Got Me In Check

[This was done for the wonderful @tower-of-chess collab!]

It was the late afternoon, sunshine pouring in through the dorm’s cloudy windows, and Khun was pretending to pay attention to his online probabilistic graphic models lecture while actually watching BEST 2 HOUR LONG FUNNY CAT COMPILATION  in another browser. It didn’t matter anyways, he was already ahead in all of his work, and he could answer the professor’s questions without even paying attention.

Cats were a much more important endeavor anyways.

Suddenly, the door slammed open, and his roommate, Bam, came racing towards him. His golden eyes were filled with desperation, and he was panting as if he had just run a marathon. It was unfair how Bam could pull off the hot and sweaty look (with emphasis on the hot) whilst Khun was stuck with frizzy hair and blotchy cheeks anytime he went sprinting across campus.

“Khun, I’m in trouble!” Bam wailed, hands gripping the armrests of his roommate’s chair, “I need your help”.

Khun’s eyes widened with concern, “Are you okay? What’s wrong? What can I do?”

If this was another Rachel problem, Khun swore to god he was actually going to stab her this time. He couldn’t put up with how easily she manipulated his friend, leading him around by the ear. Bam insisted that she was a good person, but her actions showed the exact opposite. What kind of person constantly gaslit and negged their friends? Khun knew the answer. An absolute asshole, that’s who.

But instead of what he expected, what came out of his friend’s mouth was, “I need you to teach me how to play chess!”

What.

“What?” Khun asked incredulously. 

Bam must have realized how he sounded, because he pulled away and tilted his head down to hide a prominent blush. He bit his lip and mumbled something incoherent.

As adorable as that was, it really wasn’t helping Khun’s confusion, “I didn’t quite catch that”.

Bam looked back up and his face got even more red, the blush spreading to the tips of his ears. He fidgeted with the loose strand of his t-shirt and cleared his throat.

“You know how I’ve been wanting to make more friends?” Bam hedged.

Khun did. Bam was a social butterfly, he needed friends to thrive, but ever since they moved away for college, he had been having trouble making them. Khun’s heart ached whenever he saw Bam looking longingly at groups of people messing around and laughing on the campus green. He and Bam were best friends, and they spent almost all of their free time together, but Khun knew that that wasn’t enough. He had no idea why Bam wasn’t surrounded by people at all times, honestly. His natural charisma could fell even the most stoic man. Though maybe he was a little biased.

“Yeah?” He asked.

“And you know how you suggested that I join some clubs to meet people?” Bam didn’t stop to let him answer, voice going a mile a minute like it did whenever he was emotional, “Well I met a really cool group of people, and their club president invited me to join and I said yes”.

Khun could guess where this was going.

“But?”

Bam covered his face with his hands and groaned before answering, “I said yes without realizing that it was the chess club. I don’t know how to play chess! But I already agreed and I don’t wanna flake out and I really, really want to be friends with them”.

Bam lifted up his head and grabbed Khun’s hands, pulling them to his chest. Khun’s heart rate tripled. That probably wasn’t good. But, hey, he wasn’t a physio major, what would he know?

“I had no idea what to do but then I remembered that I know the smartest person ever, and if anyone would be able to help me it would be him”.

“You’re just saying that to butter me up,” Khun chuckled.

“Please?” Bam pouted, “For me?”

Oh god, how could he say no to that? Curse Bam for knowing that he was Khun’s ultimate weakness. He sighed.

“You’re lucky that I used to play chess with Ran, otherwise you’d be screwed”.

Bam let go of his hands, doing a fist pump in excitement, “Yes! Thank you so much!”

“But next time we go get pho, you’re footing the bill”.

They decided to get started later that evening, borrowing a chess board from the desk assistant and bringing it to their floor’s rec room. Luckily, the only other people there were Wangnan and Quaetro, who were busy trying to murder each other in Mario Kart, and Hwaryun, who was working on her laptop. Khun assumed that she was editing a video for her terrifyingly popular conspiracy theory youtube channel. He and Bam sat on the floor in the corner of the room, far enough away that Quaetro’s evil laughter was a bearable volume.

Khun took out the pieces and placed them on the chess board, explaining each of them as he went. Bam was looking at him intently, eyes full of interest. Khun had to avert his gaze just so he could be able to focus and not turn into an incoherent mess. He fondly reminisced about the days long past when he was able to pull off being aloof and cool. Bam had left his reputation in ruins.

When he got to the Queen, he said, “She can move in any straight direction as far as possible as long as she does not move through any of her own pieces. She is the most powerful piece of the game, so use her wisely”.

“So she’s like Khun!” Bam grinned brightly.

“What do you mean?” Khun asked, rubbing his thumb against the edge of the Black Queen.

Bam reached out and took the White Queen, cradling it in his palm and smiling softly, “You’re the most important, too”.

Khun felt his cheeks heat up. Was this flirting? Was Bam flirting with him? No, of course not, that wouldn’t make any sense. There was no way it could be possible, but how the hell else could he interpret that?

Khun had long accepted the fact that his crush on his best friend was hopeless and would never be reciprocated, but lately things kept happening that made it impossible for him to not get his hopes up. Bam had always been affectionate, but it had increased ten fold in the last few months. When they sat on Khun’s bed (which Bam always claimed was far superior to his own) and binged youtube videos together, Bam would cuddle right up against him like a content cat.

Once, when Bam had had a particularly long day at work, he had walked straight into Khun’s arms and just held him for several minutes, tears of exhaustion seeping into Khun’s shirt. Afterwards, they had sat close together on the dorm room floor and Bam spilled out all his frustration and anxiety, fidgeting with Khun’s hand the whole time.

Sometimes, when they were walking downtown together, Bam would just take Khun’s hand and intertwine their fingers, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. He wouldn’t even stop his excited rambling, just continuing on as if nothing had happened.

But something had happened between them, and Khun needed to find out what or he was going to go insane.

And in this moment, he decided that, fuck it, two could play at that game.

“So does that mean you’re my King?” He asked, smiling when Bam’s eyes widened and he ducked his head.

“If you’ll have me,” Bam murmured, biting his lip.

Were they still talking about chess? Khun wasn’t sure.

“How could I say no to that?” He said just as softly, before clearing his throat and picking up the White King, “Anyways, the King can only move one square in any direction, and he can never move himself into check”.

The moment was successfully derailed, but the electric charge of something was still in the air, even as Khun led Bam through some easy strategies.

“Now, you should make sure that you focus on the center four squares of the board,” he guided Bam, “Whoever dominates those dominates the game”.

Bam’s eyebrows scrunched up, and Jesus, why was he so cute? It should be illegal. Put him away for life.

“Okay,” he told Bam, “When you can get into a draw with me, that’s when you’re ready”.

And so began Bam’s week-long training, which he said was more intense than anything he’d ever done at Jinsung’s dojo. It was also much harder on Khun’s side, to hold himself back from absolutely decimating his friend in three moves, which Bam made sure to make fun of him for.

“I think it’s cute!” he said, “You’re trying so hard just to help me”.

“I’m not cute,” he grumbled as he took Bam’s Rook out of spite.

The entire thing was a learning experience for both of them. Bam was learning how to play chess, and Khun was learning that Bam had absolutely terrifying game rage. His eyes practically crackled with electricity and Khun heard him cuss more times in those few days than he had in his entire time of knowing him. Baby Khun would be distraught, but Adult Khun was kind of into it.

“Fuck!” Bam cursed when Khun got him in check, startling the sleeping burrito Laure, and making Khun burst out laughing. Bam stuck his tongue out and flicked Khun’s Queen, toppling her over. 

Khun moved the chess pieces back a few moves, and guided Bam’s hand to moving the Knight in a way that would have trapped him.

“This is where you went wrong,” he said, “Your instinct is good for your dancing, but you need to plan ahead with chess”.

But Bam didn’t seem to be paying attention. In fact, his eyes were glued to where their hands were touching. Khun jolted back when he realized what he had done, but Bam took his hand before he could move away, shifting so he was holding it. Khun died a little, but he was pretty sure he didn’t let it show. Relatively sure. Kind of.

They managed to play with their hands together, but Khun’s brain was mush. That was when Bam finally got a draw. Khun would have protested, but that would mean admitting why he was distracted.

As Bam was cheering and texting Isu that he was coming to the next meeting, Khun put away their pieces, trying not to feel loss. Bam didn’t need him anymore, at least not for this. He had always known it wasn’t permanent, but a part of him had hoped it would last a little longer. Khun bit his lip.

“Hey, Khun?” Bam said, voice still brimming with excitement.

“Yeah?” his voice sounded hollow. Damnit.

“I was wondering if you wanted to come, too? I just thought, you’re really good at it, and I think you’d like everyone there, and I want you to be friends with my friends”.

Khun blinked. He blurted out his answer before he could even think.

“Yeah. Yes, I would love that”.

Bam grinned, face lit up like the sun.

He reached over, hands gently cupping Khun’s face, and brought him in close. So close they were breathing the same air. Bam’s smile turned soft and he nuzzled their noses together before his sunshine eyes flickered down to Khun’s lips.

Oh god, was this happening? It was happening. Oh god. Khun’s brain stuttered and broke down. There was never a time in his short, short life where he thought that this would ever be possible, that Bam would ever think of him in this way. But Khun had always been a selfish person, he wasn’t going to take this gift for granted.

He leaned in, bridging the gap, and then they were kissing over the chess board and it was everything. Bam hummed into it, pecking Khun’s lips once, twice, three times. Khun tugged him in and kissed him for all he was worth, knocking the chess pieces over in the process. After one last kiss, Bam pulled away, giggling.

“You’re the best boyfriend ever, Khun!”

[jayjaysocks]

Listing my favorite animes (because I’m jumping on the bandwagon)

❗️⚠️ *spoilers!! (Duh)* ❗️⚠️

5. Deadman Wonderland

I was really really sad when I found out this anime got cancelled. The music was fantastic, the animation was really good, and the voice acting was incredible. Even the fucking dubbed version (I loved the voice they chose for Senji. God he was hilarious). I binged this show so fucking fast it wasn’t even funny. I loved watching the characters go through their own struggles and grow as people in the very small amount of episodes provided. There was a lot of development within the snippet that we actually saw, and I was thoroughly impressed with how well it was done. I wanted to scream or something when I found out there wouldn’t be a second season.

Sigh. Oh well. At least we got some of the manga’s masterpiece translated into a show, even if we were missing some fucking awesome characters.

4. Guilty Crown

Ugh, don’t even get me started. This anime was beautiful and I got so invested so freaking quickly. I literally go back every few years to rewatch it because I get ship starved.

Shu and Inori’s story was so beautifully done; between Shu uncovering his courage and Inori’s journey of self-discovery, I was continuously awe-struck and filled with feelings—I mean, I had never felt such raw emotion while watching something and I was completely blown away by the affect it had on me. Anger, hatred, sadness, it was all there (even for the main character lmao) and it was one of the first times I had ever felt a ship so heavily that I literally cried at the end. It was one of the very first Animes I’d ever seen and was one of the reasons I got such a taste for them. Thanks for throwing me down that rabbit hole, GC.

3. Soul Eater

This was literally the first Anime I’d ever seen, and my god I couldn’t have asked for a better starter. What I like about this one is that it’s style is so unique and different. It’s very punk and grunge, something I admired and appreciated in a genre that is normally the opposite (like Guilty Crown, for example). Also the fight scenes were badass, like holy shit just look at that gif ??? Freaking amazing.

I loved the way the show transitioned from light hearted to intense and adrenaline pumping so effortlessly. That can be said about a lot of shows, but this one went from *haha cute show* to *holy shit, like they’re actually gonna die ohmygod howaretheygoingtosurvivethis* so smoothly I was genuinely surprised. They made one of the main villains actually cool and each character had their own beautifully done arc. I loved and adored how the show solidified and expanded on the different friendships/relationships that were involved—specifically Soul and Maka’s (also, holy shit, Stein’s arc? Fucking prime, dude). There was a lot of growth in each and every friendship (CRONA!!!), and that really pushed the viewer to invest in the individual characters.

I am fucking delighted that this was my first anime, and (though the ending was a little anticlimactic) it remains one of my top favorites to this day. It set the bar pretty fucking high, and for that I am extremely greatful.

No one asked for Soul Eater: Not! It is the unspoken sin of the Soul Eater world (then again, it is called Soul Eater: Not!)

2. Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood

If you have been following me for a while, then you are no stranger to my love of FMAB. Some of my most popular posts are about this anime, and for good reason.

Unfortunately, I was late to the party. I actually didn’t watch this until last year, but got invested really damn quick. I have a tendency to be extremely picky about the animes that I watch/like (which is why NONE of these shows are that recent), to the point that I will literally research them before I start watching (a bad habit, do not copy me). I have an incomparably hard time finishing a show when I start, because I get bored really quickly, but this was an exception. I started watching and I just... didn’t stop. I spent a straight week watching FMAB, gobbling it up during any small amount free time I could manage, and finished it before I even knew what happened. I wasn’t picky about it, I didn’t research it, I just dove right in and gosh, I was not disappointed.

The subtle romance that was alluded throughout the entire show was super cute, the devotion the brothers had for each other was to die for, and the struggles that each person went through was more than moving. I never once found myself bored while watching, and that’s saying a lot for my adhd ass. I was invested in each and every second of that damn anime and I was never, ever left underwhelmed. That probably had to do with the fact that every. Single. Character. Had a purpose. I’m not even kidding. Every single person contributed to the big fight at the end and that alone is fucking fantastic.

Not to mention ALL the women, every female character, was a badass bitch. None of them were reduced to sex appeal or romantic subplot, they all had real feelings, real arcs and real, unadulterated badassery that I thoroughly admired and appreciated. I could watch this anime over and over again every single month and I wouldn’t get bored. Between the emotional struggle, self discovery, and personal development of each character, I promise you will not see a lack of plot or meaning here. The more you watch, the more you discover and that is not a lie. There are so many layers to its story, which only makes me wish I had watched this sooner.

There is nothing I have to offer in the ways of criticism, and for that I couldn’t be happier. Thank you, Hiromu Arakawa, for such an incredible piece of art. You deserve every bit of love that this manga/anime gets. You go girl.

1. Cowboy Bepop

Holy shit holy shit holy shit this anime is so fucking good and it has been my favorite for so damn long. I have been watching anime for years, and while some of the shows in my list have moved around, this one has yet to be bumped down from the top (and I doubt it ever will). There’s a reason it became such a cult classic.

For starters, the animation. I mean, just look at Spike and the way they animate his fighting (yes I am aware that this gif is from the movie, but that still doesn’t change my point). The sequences in the show/film have been reused in many other shows and for good reason. It’s good, incredible, actually and they make him look so badass with just a few hand movements. I was consistently impressed with the way the fight scenes were portrayed and wasn’t ever left underwhelmed or disappointed (or, for that matter, feeling like they completely over exaggerated/overcompensated the scene with huge close-ups and tons of debris and lights). I loved watching this and my heart was always pounding with every intense interaction. I didn’t feel bored during any of the episodes and always found myself laughing when they cracked a joke—pretty much all of their funny lines hit and that’s saying something, dude.

The show, while having a lighthearted surface, has a heavy meaning that you don’t see at first glance. It’s about dealing with grief and loss, and how the characters themselves accomplished that in different ways. The most prominent quote is the biggest indication of its moral “you’re gonna carry that weight”. Basically: ‘You’ve gotta pick up your baggage, because the world moves on, with or without you’. Or ‘You’re going to carry that weight whether you like it or not, because life keeps going’. When I figured out the show’s actual message, while staring at my ceiling in the long hours of the night, I almost cried. This realization brought something entirely different to the table, a new understanding of the show’s characters and overall essence.

The main characters, all of them, had depth. They had real, palpable depth, and even if you didn’t want to care you found yourself seriously interested in their lives. Each of them had relatively shitty pasts. Faye with her lost memories, Spike with Julia and the people who fucked him over, Jet with his old flame and the ISSP, Ed and her/his father... throughout the entire show we got to see how all of them dealt with these things, whether they wanted to continue on with life or not. The way they portrayed it was engaging, because the characters individual, contrasting journeys weren’t repetitive or one note. The beauty that the show holds so achinging close to its core, the layers of grief that the characters are wrapped in so delicately is almost suffocatingly real—because they’re all different. It’s something you discover when you think on the subject in a deeper light, which is another reason why I enjoy it so much. It has both a surface story and a deeper one. You can either take the show at face value or choose to understand the underlying moral.

This show inspired my very first, thoroughly fleshed out OC, and continues to inspire me to this day. It has contributed to my own personal growth, and has helped push me to continue my art and writing. It is beautifully written, beautifully executed and even though some of the episodes seem like filler, it has never disappointed me. I rewatch it all the time because there’s something so infinitely refreshing about the beauty of this anime, whether it be the way we watch the characters develop or the overall moral it portrays. This show has given us a message that is essentially timeless, it can be ‘carried’ through generation after generation, and still have the same impact—something I absolutely fucking adore.

I owe so much to this anime, including my very own artistic development. I discovered it during a really shitty time in my life and I couldn’t have asked for better timing. I will never tire of the bittersweet message or the thoroughly fucking fantastic animation. Everyone who contributed to this masterpiece deserves love, because it’s seriously fucking gold.

[polyamorousmisanthrope]

📷I took five minutes to vacuum my closet the other day. It was part of my routine cleaning, no big deal. It was just a quick thing to check off on my cleaning list. I removed some boxes of stuff in the bottom, a few pairs of slippers, and vacuumed. I replaced the stuff and went on with my---

No. I didn't.

No, I looked at the bottom of the closet in a state of shock and burst out laughing.

I have spent a large portion of my life trying to get organized. When I was a child, "cleaning my room" really did mean tossing everything I could think of where to put it in a closet so that it looked tidy when Mom poked her head in. I was the child with the cubby under the desk in grade school so stuffed with papers and junk that it was simply impossible to add or find anything.

This level of disorganization bothered and embarrassed me. It really hurt and made me feel like a failure.

As a teenager, my backpack also became a mess of papers, random items, books, and paraphernalia (no, not that kind. In many ways, I was hopelessly square)

As an adult, it wasn't much better. My desk was full of bills to be paid, papers I didn't want to face, things that were vaguely sentimental but not enough to display anywhere. My closet?

That was still the place where I hid stuff I didn't have a place for but wanted the room at least to appear a little tidy.

How long from a stuffed closet to a tidy closet?

It took about thirty years.

I wasted a lot of that time, though. I addressed it in cycles. "Starting now, I'm finally going to get organized!" I'd spend several hours a day over a few weeks cleaning, organizing, and playing possessions Tetris with my home. After a month or so, know what? The house would look great!

Then, inevitably, the house would no longer look great. I'd clean the kitchen well enough to prevent food poisoning, but more than that? Not so much.

Ever done that? C'mon, it's okay. We all have.

Being tidy over time is all about consistent action.

You can, indeed, get the house clean with heroic effort, just as you can work really hard to train for an athletic event.

The problem comes in when you do something intense for a short period. As I mentioned in my last post, heroic effort is unsustainable.

Several of my favorite housekeeping systems (Flylady and Unfuck Your Habitat) talk about starting very small – shining your sink or making your bed. They are so right!

It's not about getting tidied or organized quickly. It's about developing consistent habits. For a lot of people, that's enough.

But for some…

Executive dysfunction can interfere with consistency.

If you have organizational or distraction issues, habits may not be enough. Autism, ADHD, and a host of other neurodivergent issues centered around executive dysfunction make it hard to do things that seem pretty obvious to the neurotypical person. What? You need to wash the dishes after a meal? No kidding. Go do it!

As I was writing this article, I broke for dinner. Guess what is in my sink right now?

I thought about it, got up, scrubbed the pan a little, realized it needed to soak some more, and sat back down here to write. Sure, sure, I'll get to it after I finish this, no biggie. But if my sink was full of dishes other than that pan, if I had laundry on my sofa, a desk drawer full of unaddressed bills, and my phone beeping that I needed to get up and get my car to the garage to get the brakes done, would I be getting back to that pan in any reasonable amount of time?

*Hollow laugh*

People with executive dysfunction issues can find their problems painful.

Maybe some people laugh and think it's cute to be disorganized. It never felt cute to me. It hurt because I had a hard time doing what I wanted to do. I was utterly desperate to get my life under control. Completely and utterly desperate from the time I was nine years old. That's a heavy load.

Jokes about executive dysfunction aren't cute.

I know the whole "squirrel!" joke about distractibility is mean to make people feel better and okay with themselves. I never wanted to be okay with chaos. I wanted the chaos to stop. It hurt. It interfered with accomplishing what I wanted to. It was exhausting. It used up time I wanted to spend on other things. I wanted a clean canvas so that when I jumped from obsession to obsession to obsession, I could feel like I was using that time intelligently rather than as a distraction from things that were bothering me.

Late fees, court cases, and lost jobs aren't cute, either.

There's an ADHD vlogger that I really like named Jessica McCabe. She's brilliant and adorable, and being a little bit of the manic pixie thing is part of her brand. It gets people to listen to broad issues of executive dysfunction. People will accept and listen to that stuff sometimes and find it palatable if someone is small and young and cute. (She's a LOT older than her looks or mannerisms would indicate, by the way).

So, the brilliant part. Quite sure McCabe knows what she's doing with that because sometimes she drops the adorable thing. The pain of being disorganized or having a hard time directing attention is very, very clear. If she weren't so cute, it would be unlikely as many people would listen to the important things she is saying. There's more to her than cute by a long shot. (And don't get me started on the sexism of it).

But that whole "cute" thing about disorganization. It's not so cute when unpaid bills land you in court. That has happened to me. With money in the BANK, that has happened to me! (Or without money. *shrugs* That, too). It's not cute when you have to buy a car at interest rates that are close to what you'd pay on a credit card. Yeah, that's happened, too. That we're in good financial shape now is a miracle.

There is a cultural narrative of *giggle* *giggle* "I'm so distractable!" to try to ameliorate the pain of being disorganized. Know what? It's not funny. It hurts.

Proscriptive solutions won't work.

I use a Bullet Journal just about with the out-of-the-box method that Ryder Carrol posted in that first video he did about it. I tried it, and it clicked.

Know what wouldn't have clicked? Someone making me do it when I was fifteen.

This is where you, if you have problems with executive dysfunction, might wonder if I can provide an answer for you. Know what? I can't.

I can say, "You need a Bullet Journal." I mean, I'll think it. I wouldn't say it. Know why? It won't necessarily work for you.

What I will say is that you need to find methods that work for you.

"Okay, smartybrat," I hear you cry, "if you can't offer a solution, what do I do?"

Create systems that support you

This is going to look different depending on how you think. Does a beepy reminder go bing! and prompt you to do stuff? Do you like to have a menu of tasks that you choose from depending on how easily they grab your attention in the moment?

What primes you to take action?

What plans have you followed through on (c'mon, you do have some if you're alive past 20), and what about them made you feel good?

My husband doesn't use a Bullet Journal. He plans his day using a calendar app. If there's an interrupt to a task, he'll move it to another free time. When you first try this, I strongly encourage you to multiply your estimation of task time by at least four until you get good at estimating how long something will take. If you have executive dysfunction issues you're struggling with, I'd bet at least a nickel that you're not good at estimating how long things take yet.

What stops you from taking action? Can you remove the interrupts?

A simple example would be to take the dirty clothes hamper's lid off if that's enough to discourage you from tossing your clothes in the hamper. Still, I'm not talking about "Tips 'n Tricks" here. I hate tips 'n tricks! They're like taking a Tylenol when you cut off your leg. You need to extrapolate that to life systems to support how you want to live.

Your system is useless until you define "good enough."

I could skip the next two or three times I need to vacuum my closet, and I wouldn't care. If I get to it every year or so, it's absolutely good enough. "Good enough" means I address my paperwork file once a week and clear it out. I don't have to do it every day unless I feel like it. "Good enough" is walking for five minutes on the hour around my living room until I get my 10,000 steps in. I don't have to walk for three miles unless I want to. "Good enough" is spreading up the bed and tossing the shams at the head. I don't have to bounce a quarter off the damn thing unless I get a wild hare to do that sometimes. Don't give yourself an image of perfection you have to attain, or you'll do nothing.

It's okay for "good enough" to change

Remember how it took thirty years to get to vacuuming a closet? There was a time when that chore wasn't on the "good enough" list, and ya know what? That's fine. Have your "good enough" be slightly, but only slightly, ahead of what you're currently doing if you want to make improvements. Incremental improvements over time, and I mean decades, are pretty dramatic when you look back.

Good enough can stay good enough

My exercise parameters have me getting in an average of 10,000 steps a day as measured over a month. That is never going to change. If the Spirit moves me, I'll do more. But I'm not going to keep raising the bar over and over and over. This is it. I'm good. I'm maintaining.

It takes decades to get your life in order. What small thing will you do today?

[cockroachmotherfucker10]

I’m worried about heart damage from previous anorexia based on some symptoms I’ve had for years now but can’t quite explain well. I only recovered because I noticed that my heart was beating less and less. Forty pounds later and it might have been too late, anyway. But again, I don’t know how to phrase any of this to my doctor in a concise way. I feel lost and kind of scared.

Anon, I totally understand how you're feeling. Before I give you my advice, I'm going to share my own experience, but if you prefer to skip that (totally fine!), I've added a large heading before my advice.

My Experience

I already had a heart condition (reflex anoxic seizures [RAS]) before my anorexia started, but at my worst, it got...scary.

The chest pain was constant. At night, the pain of heart palpitations--all those irregular flips and pauses and stutters--would keep me up for hours, and I'd pray with every ounce of faith I had to wake up alive in the morning. My heart felt like a fragile, fluttery thing, weak and untrustworthy. But I tried to ignore it, tried to blame it all on my RAS.

Of course, when I entered recovery, my heart issues improved very quickly, as did my breathing problems (it used to be that I constantly struggled to get a full breath and always felt like there was a steel vice constricting my lungs, or like I was trying to breathe underwater)--because my RAS was never the cause. Starving was.

What's interesting is, my heart issues started before I became severely underweight. I had had them for the entire 3-4 years before I entered recovery. It's TERRIFYING how quickly anorexia gave me health issues.

Now that I have spent a year in recovery/quasi-recovery, with relapses here and there, I still worry about my heart. If I go for a short jog in the evening, I will lie in bed hours later and have heart palpitations. If I go too long without eating, my heart will start to feel fluttery and weak again. I have low blood pressure and feel like I'm going to black out if I stand up, or sit up, or straighten out my posture.

And I will be 100% honest with you, Anon: I haven't told the doctor about it. I go to my yearly checkups, but I haven't mentioned my concerns, because I am so scared of finding out that my fear is justified.

I absolutely understand how scary it can be, Anon. I am so sorry you are going through this.

My Advice

My best advice is to make a plan for what you will tell the doctor. First, what do you think they might need to know? I have some ideas:

The symptoms that concern you now

Symptoms you had in the past

Why you think you are having problems

Now let's break it down further. Let's look at the first category: the symptoms that concern you now.

What are these symptoms? (e.g. chest pain; irregular pulse; dizziness; paleness; cold, blue, swollen, or numb extremities; shortness of breath; fatigue)

Can you describe them in detail? (e.g. pain--is it stabbing, burning, aching, squeezing? Irregular pulse--does your heart beat too fast, beat too slow, pound, flutter, skip beats?)

Where in your body do they occur? (e.g. your heart; your whole chest; the left side of your chest; your extremities)

When/how often do they occur? (e.g. every day; at least twice a week; when you lay down)

When did they start? (e.g. X years ago; when your eating disorder started; when you reached X weight)

Have you noticed any triggers that make them worse? (e.g. exercise; skipping meals; caffeine)

Have you noticed anything that helps? (e.g. relaxation techniques; drinking water; eating)

The next category is symptoms you had in the past.

What were these symptoms? Can you describe them in detail? Where in your body did they occur? When/how often did they occur? What made them better/worse? When did they start?

When did they stop? (e.g. X years ago; when you started recovery; when you reached X weight)

Did you make any changes before they stopped? (e.g. increased caloric intake; gained weight; changed exercise habits; was hospitalized; started taking vitamins; changed contents of diet)

Do they ever come back? (e.g. every couple months; only after intense exercise; never)

And finally, why you think you are having problems.

What do you believe caused these symptoms? (e.g. anorexia, restriction; e.g. anorexia, binge-purge; bulimia)

How long did this last? (e.g. X years; most of high school)

What potentially harmful behaviors have you engaged in? (e.g. extreme weight loss; being underweight; undereating; fasting; laxative abuse; excessive caffeine; overexercise; purging)

Can you describe these behaviors in detail? (e.g. X-lb weight loss in X months/years; weighing X lbs; ~X daily calories; ~X hours/days of fasting daily/weekly; ~X hours of cardio daily; ~X times purging daily)

How often and for how long did you engage in these behaviors? (e.g. every day; on and off for a few months at a time; at least twice per week)

When did you stop engaging in these behaviors? (e.g. X months ago; tapered off starting X years ago; after hospitalization in 20XX)

Do you ever engage in these behaviors now? (e.g. every few months; after noticing weight gain; never)

What have you been diagnosed with? (e.g. anorexia nervosa, binge-purge subtype; reflex anoxic seizures; hypotension; iron deficiency; nothing but should have been)

What medications and supplements are you taking? (e.g. Prozac; blood thinners; multivitamins; ibuprofen when needed)

What is your family medical history? (e.g. hypotension runs in the family; father had heart attack at age XX; grandmother died of stroke; most female relatives struggle with disordered eating)

Okay, now that we have a list of some things the doctor might want to know, it's time to make notes. Get a piece of paper, a notebook, a Google Doc, or whatever, and start writing down the answers to these questions. If you can think of any more questions or relevant information the doctor might be interested in, great! Write all of that down too.

If you want, you can bring these notes to your appointment to help you remember the info, or even to show the doctor. If you don't bring your notes, you'll still be prepared for the questions the doctor might ask you.

Now it's time to schedule an appointment. I'd recommend going to your primary care physician first; if they recommend seeing a specialist, then it may be time to book an appointment with a cardiologist.

When you make your appointment, just give the basics of your symptoms. For example, "Hi, I'm _______. I'd like to schedule an appointment with Dr. _______. I've been having heart palpitations and chest pain and I just want to see what's going on."

And now comes the hard part: talking to the doctor. Start with the most important information first (when I listed the questions in blue text, I tried to put the most important ones first in each category), and expand on it when asked.

If at all possible, I would strongly recommend telling the doctor about your history with anorexia in as much detail as they ask for (I'd also recommend asking the nurse not to tell you your weight!). However, I know it might be hard to talk about your eating disorder. Just give as much information as you can, even if it means having to say something vague like "I lost a lot of weight a few years back."

The important thing to remember is that your doctor will not judge you for your history with anorexia. Doctors have seen everything; all they care about is treating their patients as best they can. It's scary to think that something could be wrong, but it's better you discover any problems and start looking at treatment options now, rather than later.

You can do this, Anon! I'm proud of you for wanting to talk to your doctor. You make me want to seek help for my own heart problems. I believe in you, and I wish you the best of luck! ❤️

-Mod Lia

[ohwereusingourmadeupnames]

Happy Birthday, Tony Stark

Pairing: Peter Parker/Tony Stark Rating: Mature (M) Word Count: ~11k Notes: Tony’s birthday is an important holiday in my life - so I decided to celebrate with this cute little fic. @stark-bb supplied the beauty for the end & I’m really happy with the way it turned out. Happy Birthday, Tony - this is how 50 should have gone for you!  Warnings: endgame fix-it (kind of), NSFW stuff, hurt/comfort, insecure!Tony Summary: 

It's Tony Stark's birthday - which means there's tons of reasons to celebrate. Check out his relationship with Peter over the course of two birthday's.

For his 50th, Peter goes all out - but is it really the night that Tony wanted?

Or, the one where Peter plans a party and all Tony wants is his love instead.

Read it on A03 here

In retrospect, after Thanos, actually getting to 50 was a miraculous thing.

It took him and Bruce 6 months to figure out how to bring everyone back after the snap. The easiest part of it all was going back in time to collect all of the stones – despite a couple of little hiccups, the job was well done. The gauntlet Tony constructed could easily be coined as one of his greatest technological masterpieces – and when Cara Danvers came back looking for Nick Fury, their answer to who would yield it was nicely answered.

There wasn’t much time between the stones being used and the gauntlet being stolen right out from under their grasp. With the total annihilation of Avenger’s tower, it didn’t seem all that surprising that they were all of the sudden looking down into the abyss of a full-on war. There were so many of Thanos’ troops that for the first little bit of the battle – it didn’t seem like they were going to get anywhere close to winning.

Then, the portals opened up and every single person Tony could remember ever hearing about or seeing stepped through. His eyes caught and kept Peter’s when Cara pulled him out of the ditch with the gauntlet held tightly in his arms. There were so many other things that were important in that moment – the world was on the cusp of decimation once again – yet, he couldn’t break the eye contact. He didn’t want to.

Pulling Peter into his arms the second he could felt like the most natural thing in the world – when the kid dusted in them not that long ago, the world felt a little less special. Now, the scale shifted back to normal. The picture of him and Peter they took when he put together his ‘internship’ was one of the biggest catalysts in his adamancy in figuring out how to solve the time travel issue and put things back to right.

He didn’t plan to press the kiss against his cheek – the adrenaline of battle and finally succeeding made it easy to override the thinking portion of his choice of actions. Peter melted into him and it suddenly felt more than okay. The mumbled “this is nice” drove home the point and Tony let himself have that – the embrace, the comfort, even the solace that came from having Peter back again.

The rage of battle swept them away from each other and for a while, Tony was focused on being the perfect distraction for Cara – her final move of sweeping and engaging just enough to get the stones off of Thanos and onto the gauntlet the single greatest in Avenger history. Watching Thanos drift away into nothingness felt more satisfying than Tony cared to admit – and when he fell to his knees, it was from being overwhelmed that maybe, just maybe, they saved the world for good.

Aftermath in the face of a tragedy that only half of the population remembered was a little weird. It took a lot of explaining to the ones they lost for everyone to make sense of the missing time – of the life that got put on hold because of a crazy vendetta. Tony tried hard to document the progress he and Bruce made through the construction of the time machine and their ideas about the stones so he could explain to anyone that asked. Though – it was unsurprising that Peter was the only one that even wanted to know.

So – Tony explained it to him. They talked through the schematics he initially drew up when solving the irregular blip that Bruce initially couldn’t. Peter’s questions were educated and the things he inferred before Tony could tell him were some that even Bruce did not conclude. He can’t help but be impressed by the kid’s true intelligence. Tony spent so much time trying to protect him, he never took the time to pay the closet attention to him as a person – to the extremely smart and talented individually Peter absolutely was.

In the end, the boy left with a much clearer understanding of the ins and outs of the journey to get him back. It appeased him a grand total of two days before Peter came knocking again. His excuse didn’t seem nearly as sound this time. He kept listening for May to come through the door even though he knew she was working the overnight shift – Tony could see it for what it was, a plea for distraction, for the company of another human being that wasn’t going to ask questions or wonder out loud about things that shouldn’t be spoken about ever again.

It quickly became a routine between them – Peter showing up later into the night with a feeble excuse to come in and spend time with Tony. Tony didn’t spend any time pretending, though – each time it happened, he opened the door and let Peter come in without worrying about the muttered excuse thrown his way.

Dealing with shit was a personal thing, the understanding of that was something Tony knew very intimately.

His own special way of dealing pulled him away from Pepper – their relationship crumbling at the seams when Tony refused to give up the suit. After everything, he felt it to be too big of a compromise – he loved her, but some things were bigger than ultimatums and their inevitable consequences. Losing half of the population made that pretty clear.

And though Tony hated to admit it, he came to rely on the kid’s presence – their late night tv binges one of the only things that chased the nightmares away. Despite seeing him on an almost daily basis now, Tony still dreamt about the way Peter faded from his arms, the impossible to hold feeling of dust running through his hands the worst part of it all. He figured they would stop when the world started to spin the right way again – yet, he couldn’t escape them. It took a lot more brain bytes than he originally thought to push away the few reasons he could come up with as to why that actually was.

No matter how much he didn’t want to think about it, letting Peter in all of those nights ago set the course for them. Tony couldn’t deny that he learned to heal a little more every single time Peter came through the door – the ease in their conversation slowly but surely becoming something that Tony couldn’t live without. They forged a closeness with every night that past – one that Tony quickly had to put in a safe category. There were so many times he found himself wanting to reach across the couch and grip Peter’s hand in his own. So quickly, Peter became a steady source of comfort.

Sooner rather than later, the Avengers were suiting back up – the idea of instituting regular rounds and patrolling schedules winning without question when Steve brought it up. If they were going to deal with entities like Thanos ever again, the need to be better prepared reigned supreme. Luckily, the rest of the group recognized his and Peter’s familiarity and always paired them up. It felt nice to work with him and Tony absorbed every single second of it. They were constantly learning together and when the time came to actually fight, they’d be prepared – some of their tag team moves way more than enough to truly debilitate an opponent.

Of course, being patrol partners meant dealing with the times that things turned to shit. Though there weren’t big time things forcing all of the Avenger’s to assemble, they still dealt with things that were dangerous. Peter, no matter how many times Tony shouted at him about keeping it on the safer side, refused to ignore intuition – even if it led him astray nine times out of ten. It was extremely frustrating, and the only downfall Tony could find with being back to saving the world so soon after the last time.

Things got interesting when Peter almost died taking down Mysterio. It took them a few minutes longer than they expected to get across the pond and into a position where they could help – so Peter handled a lot of it on his own. Tony was glad they spent all the time they did training – some of the moves Friday showed him were truly impressive and genuinely lifesaving. It felt shitty to find Peter broken and bloody – there was no mistaking the pure intensity of the battle that raged before him.

Tony pushed aside all of his personal feelings and helped solve the problem – the best thing he could do for Peter was get things under control, there wouldn’t be any need for the younger man to have to fight so hard after that. It took the two of them and some well-planned drop-ins from Steve and Natasha to put everything to rest. When things were finally over, Peter slumped over against Tony and howled, the tears just as much from frustration as exhaustion and pain. He didn’t let Tony detach the entire time Dr. Cho took a look at him – he stayed by his side and talked him through what happened – tried to keep him calm when a bone was reset and his body temperature worked off the sedative before it could actually numb anything.

It felt hard to separate Peter from the thoughts of caring, and protection, and on the weakest of days – love. He figured the idea of being a father figure wouldn’t be too bad. Tony wanted to believe that Peter leaned on him the way he would May or Happy. There were signs, though – signs that said the younger man’s feelings were way deeper than either wanted to think about at the moment. For the sake of allowing independence and growth, Tony didn’t pursue the obvious.

That mindset didn’t last very long  – Peter had a way of being pretty persuasive. His 49th birthday crept toward them without anyone really noticing. Everyone was trying to figure out what post-Thanos meant – and the simplicity of a birthday didn’t seem to be on the forefront of people’s minds. It didn’t matter, anyway – the older he got, the more meaningless birthdays seemed to be. The world continued to spin and need protecting and want things regardless of birthdays.

When the day came, it surprised him to see candles sticking out of a big pile of Belgian waffles that morning – a smiling Peter and Bruce carrying the plate over to him. He shook his head and blew out the candles, the cheesiness of it just that – cheesy – but also very thoughtful and way more than he wanted or imagined. The waffles tasted just a little bit better that morning, too – which was quite the feat, because Tony loved waffles; absolutely fucking loved them.

The rest of the day past in a haze of bowling in the alley in the SI building, eating disgustingly shitty food, and good company. Bruce begged out after the third game and left Peter and Tony alone to duke out games four and five. Peter’s incredible strength worked against him in the end, Tony grabbed both the games and the overall win count for the day. It wouldn’t have hurt his feelings if Peter let him win, either – it felt good to feel good for once.

Heading back to the penthouse, Tony wasn’t surprised when Peter followed him up. From the beginning, Tony made sure to keep May in the loop – and at this point, as long as Peter was somewhere safe, she didn’t seem to mind. Peter probably took more advantage of that little giving piece of her, but Tony wasn’t one to complain when it benefitted him just as much. He watched the kid go straight to the fridge, the massive quantity of junk food they consumed just hours earlier obviously not enough.

“What do you want to do for dinner, Tony? Your fridge is kind of empty,” Peter said after a couple of minutes of leaning over and looking, then stepping away – like if he looked enough times, things would show up eventually. Grinning, Tony sank into one of the stools tucked into the kitchen island, his fingers knitting together.

“I hadn’t thought about it – I’ve eaten more today than I usually do in a week. Want me to order something? I bet we can get that Vietnamese place you like to deliver out here,” Tony mumbled in reply. He brought a finger to his glasses and tapped into Friday’s interface. “Can you order the usual, doll?”

Peter stood on the other side of the island across from him, his cheeks flushed. “You didn’t have to do that. I found an egg in there,” he remarked, his thumb hiking over his shoulder towards the fridge. “It’s your birthday – we should be doing what you want.” Peter tried for a serious look in his direction but failed at the last second – the soft ‘for Tony’ smile he’d come to be very familiar with over the last few months spreading across his lips. He leaned down onto his forearms, the two of them closer than ever now.

“We’ve done enough, Pete. Let me be an old man for the rest of the night, huh? Besides, we’re almost done with The Sopranos – I’m ready to see how it all ends.” Tony wasn’t lying, either – there wasn’t anything else he’d rather do. The thought of getting dressed to go out or partying the night away made his head spin. After all of the bull shit of the life he led, sitting around with takeout and good company didn’t seem all that bad.

The boy seemed to understand, the softness in his eyes answer enough. He shrugged his shoulders and pushed away from the island – Tony watched as he went over to the bar on the other side of the room and grabbed a small rock glass. Without much effort, he poured two fingers worth of whiskey into it and walked back across the room, the glass being passed to Tony before he could even understand what happened.

“You’re going to need that, then,” Peter finally uttered, his face breaking out into a smile. Tony watched the grin grow and internally documented all of the lines and grooves that played across the boy’s face. Peter must have noticed because his smile grew a little bigger. “Want to go hangout in the lab until the food gets here?” The question was shy, despite what felt like millions of hours they spent there together already.

Slamming back the liquid in the glass, Tony let the burn clear his head – his mind in all sorts of places it probably shouldn’t be. He caught Peter’s eye and nodded, his own grin slipping across reluctant lips. “It’s funny that you even need to ask.” Tony got up then, his neck swiveling to crack the stiff joints. “Shall we?” he asked, his head tilting when Peter didn’t move or even say anything.

He didn’t expect the clumsy hands Peter answered with, the boy grabbing his hips a little too tight, the strength in his arms bringing Tony against his chest. Tony let out a breath, his secret wants and desires coming to life before him – his brain shortcutting with the responsible thoughts that tried to break through the haze. His arms wrapped around Peter’s shoulders on their own accord, Tony losing the fight against himself with every passing second.

“Pete – “ Tony tried, his arms opposing his words, the muscles in his shoulders, chest, and biceps tensing and clenching, every fiber of his being wanting to be that much closer. Peter tilting his head until they were looking eye to eye stopped him in his tracks, though – the boy’s eyes bright with many things unreadable, except for one. Slamming his own shut, Tony pulled in a long breath, the look too much.

Then, lips were on his, and all thoughts ceased to exist for the few seconds that clumsiness turned into the hottest thing he���d ever felt. Peter’s hands moved from his hips to frame his face, the tightness of them bringing their lips closer together – Tony tilting his head at the very last second to stop their noses from colliding painfully. He sunk into it and forgot for a second what he needed to do when they broke apart.

The soft moan leaving Peter’s lips when the kiss broke made him press back in for another couple of chaste pecks – Tony hoping more than anything that it was enough to engrain the taste of Peter onto the surface of his skin. Dipping his head, Tony pressed their foreheads together, his eyes closing.

“You figured out what I really wanted,” Tony whispered, a laugh leaving his lips at the sound of the words in his own ears. Up until that point, he hadn’t allowed himself to even think like that. With Peter in his arms – it was easy, though. Like their embrace on the battlefield, Tony couldn’t help what his lips did this close to Peter’s person.

“You’re just a couple months too early,” he managed to get out, the few seconds of hesitation before doing so just enough to soak this intimacy in a little bit longer. “You know we have to wait.” Peter’s head became a little heavier against his own for a second, then he felt the slightest of nods – the boy way smarter than Tony ever gave him credit for. Pulling back, he put a bit of space between them, the only point of contact now his hand on Peter’s cheek.

While his thumb brushed the sharp bone there, Peter leaned into the touch – his eyes shut, the storm inside them kept under control by the lids covering them. Tony let himself look his fill until Peter was the one pulling away – the saddest little smile on his lips. “I know – I just – I couldn’t wait. I – Tony, you’re everything.” The words were earnest and if this were anyone else, he wouldn’t have even given thought to believing him. Peter constantly showed how much respect he deserved, so Tony gave it to him.

“Save that for later, okay? We’ll make your 18th one to remember.”

“Okay. Happy birthday, Mr. Stark.”

----

And boy did they – even a year later, Tony can still remember the entire day they turned into a week rather vividly.

He told Peter to pack a bag and let May know they were staying in the city for the week. For the first time in almost two months, Tony was finally letting him stay over again. He knew if he gave either of them any opportunity to give into temptation, they would – and this seemed like too important of a thing to screw up before it could officially be a thing. He didn’t want to give anyone – including the person who trusted Tony to be a good part of Peter’s life – the ability to question anything between them.

The second Peter walked through the door; the boy was on him – Tony barely able to get his glasses off his face before they were kissing. It didn’t make it past the necking stage, of course – Tony had too many plans to lose his shit on the couch in his front room – but it was nice to finally let himself touch and feel, to give into the want that so obviously coursed through them both. He let Peter squirm against him until he let out a satisfied huff and finally came up for air. “Happy birthday, Petey,” Tony mumbled against his forehead.

Coney Island took up the rest of the day – Tony laughing and smiling harder than he could remember, especially since Thanos. The ride on the Cyclone threw them into each other and when they got off, Tony wrapped Peter in his arm and steered them back towards the line, the two of them riding the coaster two more times before moving on. Peter insisted they finish the day at the aquarium – the boy totally obsessed with the penguins and otters.

When they got back to the penthouse, Tony led Peter into the bedroom, straight past the bed, and into the attached bathroom. He pushed him down until he was sitting on the edge of the tub and went about putting the necessary stuff for a bath in it. While the water ran, Tony took Peter’s clothes off one article at a time, his lips following behind caressing the newly exposed skin. Getting down to his boxers, Tony had him stand up and pulled them very slowly down Peter’s legs, the tips of his fingers tracing the same path as the fabric.

He stayed on his knees and lavished the skin on the inside of Peter’s left knee, then nosed his way up his right thigh – his lips landing on his hip, eyes looking up. “Get in the tub,” he mumbled, his eyebrows raising in invitation. Peter didn’t waste any time complying with the request – a soft sigh leaving his lips when he sank into the warm water.

Stepping back, Tony started the actual part of the bath that was for Peter. He slipped the buttons out of the slots on the vest he was wearing and let it hit the ground. The shirt came next, his fingers slow in the way they moved from one button to the next. A light shimmy had the button down flowing off his shoulders to join the vest on the floor. Kicking off his shoes, he hobbled about for a second to get the socks off – then straightened back out with sexiness written on his face once again.

Peter’s eyes were glued to his every move, Tony happy to see red trail down his cheeks, neck, and onto his chest with each new piece of clothing that came off. The boy was fisting himself under the water, Tony could tell by the wave and ripple of it. Tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth, Tony made quick work of his belt and the button on his slacks, the pants falling without much effort after that. His black boxer briefs stayed on for a second, Tony taking a couple of steps closer to the tub until he could lean down and press a kiss against Peter’s lips.

While they kissed, Tony pulled his underwear off, a little groan slipping out between them when his erection finally hit the coolness of the air around them. “Shift forward a little, babe,” Tony muttered, his body sinking easily into the water with the newly made space. Peter moved back and settled between his legs without any prompting, Tony’s chest now toasty from the combination of water and the boy’s warm skin. Wrapping his arms around him, Tony pulled him even further back – his cock trapped perfectly between his own stomach and Peter’s back.

Touching his lips to Peter’s neck, Tony let himself relax into the warm water and the sound embrace – the boy in front of him doing the same thing if the sagging weight against his chest was anything to go by. “Did you have a good birthday?” he spoke the words right beside Peter’s ear – the gust of breath having the desired effect as goosebumps launched themselves across his skin.

His head fell back against Tony’s shoulder, Peter’s hands moving until they were gripping the older man’s across his stomach. “It’s been great. This is the best part, though – finally getting to spend this kind of time with you.” It was obvious Peter meant each of those words, too; his voice took on such authentic tone when he was talking to Tony. “I love you, Tony. I have for a while.”

Though he suspected, Tony didn’t think he would hear those words for a long time. He forgot how mature Peter could be when he really put his mind to things. Tony moved his arms until he could cup Peter’s cheek, the boy shifting a little bit to look over his shoulder – their eyes meeting. “I love you too, Pete. I’m the worst possible choice for you, but I’m also incessantly selfish. You can have whatever you want from me.” Tony capped his words off with a soft kiss, his lips lingering just because they could.

“I just want you, Tony. I thought for a long time that I wanted to save the world, be a hero – and yeah, I still want that – but I want this, too. Simplicity. Your arms around me. I’m young, I know – I also know what I want, so don’t try and talk me out of it.” Peter practically huffed out, his last couple of words sounding a bit petulant. They made Tony’s heart jolt, regardless – the weight of them surprisingly heavy.

Who was he to dictate any of that part of Peter’s life? Tony did lots of questionable things in his youth – more than a few of them without thinking about it as thoroughly as Peter seemed to. There were no regrets in the pacing of their relationship and how very natural it occurred, so what was there to really hold him back? There were times Tony was selfish about much lesser things and at this point in his life, why hold now? Smiling to himself, Tony relaxed even further into the porcelain of the tub.

“I’m not going to try and talk you out of anything. It might suck for a little while – telling everyone and explaining ourselves, but I’m with you.”

That was about a year ago and while Tony was right – it was a hassle to constantly answer questions and defend a thing that felt so natural to them – things were also too good to really be that upset about it. They went about telling the team first, these people fought with them on a constant basis and needed to understand the decision they made. It took a bit of talking Steve from the tizzy he spun up and a few well placed “I know exactly how you feels” to get everyone to calm down enough to talk to Peter about it.

The old guy of the group grabbed Peter’s shoulder, Steve’s eyes seemingly trying to stare right into his soul. “He’s old, Pete,” Steve started – the rest of the group breaking out into varying degrees of laughter around them. Tony prickled for a second, his pride a little hurt from the implication – but what could he really do? When compared to Peter, he was old – generations older, in fact.

Peter’s hand grabbed Steve’s and dislodged it, usually soft brown eyes serious, his gaze just as sharp. “So are you.” Tony watched him bite into his bottom lip and unsuccessfully trying to stop laughter from bubbling in his chest. “I don’t care. I’m old enough to understand all of your concerns and appreciate them – but I am politely ignoring everything you guys have to say. I want this. He didn’t talk me into it, he didn’t groom me,” Peter stopped then, his eyes trailing over to Rhodey who spoke the traitorous words earlier. “He’s just my person, you know?”

After hearing that, Tony figured no one could stand between them. Not even May – who surprisingly didn’t seem shocked or upset about the situation. She glared at Tony for a long minute, then pulled him into her arms. “If you hurt him, I’ll do the same – got it?” she whispered, the arms “hugging” him tightening ever so slightly.

“Noted,” Tony replied instantly, his hands patting her back lightly. He caught the look Peter and May shared when they pulled away and had to try very hard not to burst out laughing in her face. They were both stubborn, the older man instantly understanding where Peter got it from. Wrapping his arm around Peter, Tony pressed a kiss to the side of his head, the boy relaxing into him.

“The hardest part is over,” he mumbled into Peter’s hair, the hand on his shoulder bringing him more tightly against his chest.

----

Despite being with one of the most caring humans on the planet, Tony’s 50th birthday loomed over him. For whatever reason, it felt like a big one. The age difference between him and Peter never played a part for either of them – yet, he couldn’t stop thinking about how glaring it actually was. Sometimes when he picked Peter up from HIGH SCHOOL, he felt incredibly old – and the closer his birthday got, the more ridiculous it seemed to be picking someone up from secondary school.

He didn’t give a shit about it – not for him, at least. The older person in the scenario always got the better end of the deal. Peter was loving and kind, young to the point where some of the shit he pulled out of his ass to refer to was adorably offensive. No – he didn’t really get what Peter saw in him. At least – lately. Maybe that mid-life crisis was finally sneaking up on him – the idea of that laughable after some of the crazy stuff that went on his life.

In the last couple of weeks, Tony felt some of his self-worth starting to diminish a little bit. Which was literally silly – Peter touched him, kissed him – practically worshipped him on a nightly basis. Feelings weren’t always rational, though. Every time Peter mentioned the big party he was planning for the occasion, Tony felt himself curl in a little bit – his affinity for not hurting Peter seemingly the only thing keeping him from shouting about how little he wanted to attend a party celebrating his old ass.

Peter flourished, though – so he didn’t stop him, not even when his heart started to race when his young boyfriend talked about all of the Avengers and their travel plans to meet at the complex. It was nice that they all wanted to come back and celebrate – he just hated the fact that they were celebrating such a long milestone on Tony’s account. He told himself to grin and bear it, though – it couldn’t possibly be that bad.

And since Peter was really wrapped up in all of the planning, he didn’t get the subtle hints that Tony tried to make. His “maybe it can be just you and me” wasn’t said early enough and when he thought to bring it up – his mind went to all of the plans Peter made; the way his caring, so very loving boyfriend thought every little thing out.

The night of, Tony went through the motions – he donned the suit (because let’s face it, Tony looked damn good in a custom Gucci suit.) The barber Peter paid to come in and clean them up did a good job on his facial hair and the slight trim of the longer strands on the top of his head made him feel the slightest bit better. Whenever Peter caught his eyes in the mirror, Tony could genuinely smile back.

They walked in together hand-in-hand, which Tony still felt a little giddy about. He milled around and did the right amount of small talk – his chest feeling a little warmer with each hug he got from his Avenger family. Tony did all the right things until he found an out, the anxiety that was building starting to clutch at him, the shininess of the night a little too bright for his tastes.

Walking into the lab, Tony breathed a sigh of relief, his muscles unclenching for the first time all night. He slipped off his jacket and got to work on a couple of modifications to the nanotech he was implementing into the suit – the response time still a little slow for his liking. For the first time the entire night, Tony felt the weight lift off of his chest. He got so zoned into what he was doing, he didn’t see Peter walk into the lab – or really acknowledge his presence until a hand was on his shoulder.

“I thought I might find you here. What happened?” His voice was soft – though, Tony also sensed the slightest bit of tension sitting under the surface of those words.

He bought himself some time by swiping across the holoscreen, his work dropping down into the folder to be pulled out at a later time. “It got a little crowded in there.” He mumbled with a shrug, his eyes nowhere near meeting Peter’s. “I got an idea and kind of had to run with it.” That excuse almost as lame as the first one.

Peter’s hands wrapped around his shoulders, the boy’s strength keeping him against his chest – forcing him to give up some attention. “What’s really wrong, though? You’ve been a little off lately.”

So, he did notice. Clenching his eyes shut, Tony gave in a little, his body leaning into Peter, letting the younger man take a bit of his weight. “I’m just old – I didn’t want to celebrate that. But, I didn’t have the heart to say anything.” He felt deflated as the words left his lips – the strain of it finally climbing its way down and off his heart. “I’ve been having a moment and I love the hell out of you for doing what you did. I’ve been doubting why you’d want me and it’s so obvious, isn’t it?” Tony leaned his head against Peter’s, so much defeat within him.

For a man that saved the world, he didn’t feel very strong in that moment. Being in Peter’s arms made him vulnerable and, in that moment, he couldn’t find a way to stop the avalanche tumbling him down the cliff. A couple tears streamed down his cheeks before Tony could even think to stop them. Peter’s thumb was there in an instant, mopping them up without a second thought.

“It is – but that’s okay. I should have noticed – I mean, I did, but I was excited. You did say you wanted it to be just you and me. Can we start that now? I’ve got a pretty decent idea,” Peter whispered, the leverage of his hands on Tony’s face bringing their eyes level. “I love you, Tony – today is about you, not me.” Peter let the words sit between them for a second, the boy giving him time to say no if he really wanted.

Instead of answering, Tony closed the space between them, Peter’s lips warm against his own. Tony gripped the side of Peter’s suit jacket and simply let himself go – the younger man taking control of the kiss without a single problem. Tipping his head to the side, a soft gasp left his mouth when Peter took advantage of the position and started to press his tongue in deeper. The tangle of heat there absolutely delicious.

He felt himself being pushed back, his feet moving on their own accord until the edge of the lab table hit his lower back, another moan leaving his lips. With the kiss broken, Peter put a little bit of space between them and went right for Tony’s belt – his nimble fingers getting the thing undone and his button open within seconds. The innocent Peter from a year ago did not exist – the younger man had no problems pushing his pants and boxer briefs down enough to get access to his cock. Lips wrapping around him pulled a “fuck” from deep within him, his control ticking down to nothing.

“Pete – “ Tony grumbled, his hand camping out on his boyfriend’s shoulder, fingers digging into the suit jacket there. Peter worked him over effortlessly, the boy’s tongue trailing down his length as the swallowed him whole. The tip of his dick hit the back of Peter’s throat time and time again – his hips pressing in that last little inch when the other’s hands reached back and used his ass cheeks to pull him forward. The tears in Peter’s eyes welled, but he pulled him deeper anyway – his mouth stretching obscenely.

The gulping sensation of Peter’s throat restricting against his already pulsing length brought him to the edge embarrassingly quick. He moved his fingers up Peter’s neck into his hair, his grip tight after a particularly delicious suck from the tip of his cock all the way down to the root – Peter’s cute little nose dirtily pressed into the nest of well-trimmed pubes. “Oh god – Pete. I’m going to cum. You’ve got to stop. Pete!” Tony spoke helplessly, his free hand scabbling at the table behind him.

Tossing his head back, Tony felt the snap of too much arousal in his gut – his hips pressing forward totally out of his control. “Pete, fuck!” He let out a series of groans with every hard suck against the head of his cock, Peter obviously very keen on milking him for all that he was worth. Tony forced himself to loosen the grip in Peter’s hair, a soft wince leaving his lips when a couple strands of hair caught between his fingers. Desperate for the feel of those spit slick lips against his own, Tony pulled Peter up off his knees and slammed their mouths together.

“What about you?” Tony mumbled against his lips a couple of minutes later, the taste of himself on Peter’s tongue almost enough to get him ready to go again. His fingers were desperate to get their hands on Peter’s skin – the older man hoping for just a little bit more.

Peter grabbed Tony’s hand and pressed it against the crotch of his pants – the wetness there apparent, the suits pants totally ruined by the mess he made. “I think we should head upstairs and see where the rest of the night takes us.” He grinned and gave Tony another kiss, his hands greedy in the way they helped him get his pants up – in the way he pulled Tony out of the lab and into the elevator.

Surprisingly, Peter didn’t try anything in the elevator – he kept Tony against his chest, arms slung tightly around him. “I love you,” the boy mumbled against the shell of his ear, the ride long enough for the intense zing to cool off a bit – the softness of his words perfect for the moment.

“I love you, too.”

That was just the calm before the storm.

Tony followed with hungry eyes as Peter started to take off his clothes the second they hit the penthouse – his bow tie hitting Tony’s cheek before the older man could process what was even happening. Eyes wide, Tony didn’t hesitate to stay on Peter’s heals and try to touch the newly revealed skin with hungry fingertips.

Getting into the bedroom, Tony expected to find a naked Peter in his bed – instead, the naked man was standing at the edge, an expectant look on his face. “Come here,” he beckoned, his long fingers hypnotizing enough to draw Tony in right away. His feet carried him over there – skintight with excitement of what was to come. “Get on the bed, Tony.” Peter’s grin was too good to ignore, so he complied immediately.

Lithe hands made quick work of his shoes and socks – Tony moving up a little further on the mattress when his feet were bare. Peter continued his exploration by moving to the button on is pants and pulling them and his underwear down his legs without hesitation. Soft fingertips explored the soles of his feet, nails running over the arches. “I love how strong your legs are. You’re not the tallest guy – but you’ve got these legs that carry so much weight.” Tony slammed his eyes closed, his brain not able to take the words and the sight of Peter all at once.

The younger man peppered kisses up his legs, over the ticklish part of his knees and across the long length of his thighs – his skin pebbling with the physical sign of arousal. Peter moved up after that, his fingers getting Tony’s buttons open without much effort – the boy touching the newly exposed skin with reverence – eyes glued to Tony’s. “Your stomach is my favorite. You’re stacked – there’s so much muscle there. And then you’ve got this slight little swell here,” Peter moved his hands to run over the littlest bit of stomach Tony hadn’t been able to get rid of over the years. “Reminds me that you’re human, you know?” He let his tongue swirl across the skin there.

A soft touch to his face had him blinking his eyes open, Peter’s face wide open – the heat there, totally encompassed by the lightness the other was trying so hard to portray. Tony nodded his head then, a little smile playing on his lips. Peter returned it, his exploring fingers moving once against to his chest – his nipples pebbling with their attention. “It’s hard to forget sometimes, too,” Tony whispered, chest coming up off the bed to press into Peter’s touch.

A couple minutes later, Peter urged him to turn over – his teasing touches starting up the second his flesh was on display. The younger man’s fingers pressed into the muscles of his shoulders and back, the touch just as soothing as it was arousing. He made a trail from the back of Tony’s neck down to the valley of his lower back with tongue, teeth, and lips – each nip and lick taking him apart inch by inch.

Stopping at his ass, Peter grabbed a cheek in each of his hands. “This is my favorite, though. You’ve taken to wearing those tight slacks and it’s a total tease. I want to take you apart, but then, I want to see your ass clench and flex in those pants,too. It’s distracting, Tony. And I think you know that.” Peter emphasized each of his words with sharp bites to each round globe – the stimulation of the skin there causing Tony to groan, his muscles clenching.

“I like the way you look at me,” Tony managed to groan out, his hips pressing back to get more of Peter’s touch, anything and everything the younger man could give him. Peter rewarded him with another stinging bite on the meat of his right ass cheek. “Fuck, Pete – “ his words felt a little slurred, each one dripping out with any consent of his own.

“I know – and that’s what makes it hotter. Your ass is kind of forbidden. I can count on one hand how many times I’ve had it over the last year,” Peter drove his point home with a not so subtle yank of Tony’s cheeks apart – the air hitting him cool, a sudden chill rushing over his already tender skin.

Fingers pressing against his hole brought Tony to mere whimpers – Peter was right, he didn’t usually do a lot of time in this position, the vulnerability usually making him uncomfortable. There was something in the way Peter was handling him that made him want to give in and let Peter take and give and bring them both to their fucking knees, though. The other seemed to take his noises as a good sign and got to work.

Despite being 50 years old, Tony never got used to the feeling of a tongue in, around, or up his asshole. A laugh fell from his lips – the feeling their foreign and overwhelming, his gut filling with shame and heat all at once. Peter wasn’t discouraged by anything and went to town – his tongue tracing Tony’s rim before pressing in, the tip absolutely devastating in the way it plunged and caressed. The looser he started to feel, the more Peter doubled his efforts.

Soon, fingers were joining Peter’s tongue, the rhythmic press of blunt fingers and a warm tongue a complete mixture of sensations and stimulus – the feeling absolutely fucking perfect. He didn’t feel old when he gave his cock a little thought – the length was raging, the hardness there throbbing with needy want. It felt good – Peter made him feel good. Groaning at a spectacularly good press of Peter’s fingers, Tony bit into the pillow below him – Peter made him feel so fucking good.

“Pete – I need you to fuck me, please. Show me. Show me how much you want me. Need it – need you, baby.” He couldn’t explain what he said or how he said it or even if it made sense; his brain was running on want, adrenaline, and the dopamine that made being delirious feel like the warmest hug – like it was the most exquisite thing in the entire world. His breaths were coming in pants, Peter’s last few thrusts glancing his prostate deliciously.

He felt the younger man move behind him, the bed shifting with his weight. Tony heard the drawer open and let out a sigh of relief – Peter’s weight draping over him the best feeling of the night. “I’ll take care of you, Tony,” Peter said, the words skating across his skin – Pete’s fingers already working the lube into him, the fingers there not nearly enough.

The party a few floors below them probably heard the loud groan Tony let slip from within him when Peter bottomed out. The stretch of not being all that used to the fullness inside him made all of his limbs break out in what felt like waves of fire – his brain stuck between the pleasure-pain of the feeling. The fact that Peter didn’t give him any time to think about it before bottoming out completely helped and the leering blaze of pain that tried to stick around went straight out the window – the heat in his core pooling once again.

Kisses against his neck and the hands running down his sides relaxed him enough to let Peter move – the younger man’s cock thick, his length the perfect combination of inches and girth. For such a young person, Peter kept amazing control over himself – his strokes long and lazy, the best part coming from the exquisite roll of his hips when bottoming out; his prostate getting a gentle nudge with each one. Tony didn’t do anything other than squirm below him – his mind was everywhere, filled with nothing but the things Peter was doing to him.

“You feel amazing, Tony. Fucking amazing,” Peter babbled, the boy’s strokes picking up without either of them noticing – the pace natural, the steady climb of their love making slowly getting to the ultimate crescendo. “I don’t know how you can do this for as long as you do – I want to cum already. I’m going to coat your insides so that every time you even think about not being enough – you’ll remember the way it felt to have me pulse everything I have so deep inside of you. Fuck. I’m so close – “

Tony shouted – Peter’s words and the increase of pace getting him from hot to completely bothered in no time at all. The other’s weight pressed him against the mattress, every thrust brushing his cock against the soft sheets below him. His eyes were clenched tightly, Tony determined to let his mind and body wander – Peter’s guiding hands the only thing that mattered in that moment. “I love you, Pete,” Tony choked out, his head turning to catch Peter’s glance over his shoulder. When they caught eyes, the look in Peter’s tossed him over the edge – the younger man’s mouthed ‘I love you, too’ way, way, way too much for him to handle.

Peter miraculously held on for another handful of strokes, the younger man keeping his promise – his overused hole clenching with every pulse he could feel. The repeated Tony played in his head like a mantra – Peter’s voice the only one he wanted to hear say his name for the rest of his life.

----

When the immediate fatigue of orgasming within the inch of his life wore off, Tony coerced Peter into the shower – the younger man still covered in sweat and lube. The stayed wrapped around each other trading kisses back and forth – Peter continuing his trend of taking care of Tony; the young man surprisingly thorough in the way he ran his fingers through long locks and scrubbed the dirt, grim, and cum off his skin.

The last couple of hours were exactly what he was looking for – and Tony told Peter so more than a few times between getting out of bed and finishing up in the shower. His boyfriend simply kissed him, the boy obviously not looking for any sort of praise. After all they did for each other, thank you’s were a little meaningless – both men more than capable of expressing their gratitude in many different ways.

Pulling on a pair of sleep pants, Tony got back into bed on Peter’s instruction. The younger man walked out of the room for a couple of minutes – Tony laying back against the mattress, the feeling of contentment lingering in his mind for the first time in a while. There were many things Peter did for him – but this, the never-ending feeling of comfort, that’s what Tony liked the most. Being the 50-year-old man that he was, having a person that could bring him that was the best birthday present Tony hoped to continue to keep on getting.

The snick of Peter’s bare feet on the floor brought him out of his thoughts – the younger man carrying a box with him when Tony sat up to watch him walk back into the room. “I know you said no presents, but I think you’re going to like this one. I only spent money on one part of it – and it wasn’t that much, so don’t be upset, okay? I’m 99% sure you’re going to really like this.” Watching Peter babble about it made up for the fact that his boyfriend once again ignored his wishes (though, the longer they were together, the longer Tony figured Peter did that on purpose – because it was a fun game between them.)

Tony reached out to Peter, his fingers beckoning the younger man into bed. “I won’t be upset – just come sit with me while I open it.” He didn’t care how needy he seemed – today was his birthday and Peter was hell bent on catering to him. Peter didn’t disagree, anyway, he easily slid into the bed next to Tony, the box still in his hands.

“So, I guess I should explain this a little bit before you open it,” Peter started, his fingers playing with the bow on top of the box. “You’re always talking about how you miss everyone – and how it would be a lot easier if you had tangible memories of things. I know you’ve got all the technology in the world and could make that happen if you really wanted to. I mean – you still use Friday to watch me sometimes, you can’t even deny that.” He chuckled then, his face a little red from nervousness – the emotion easily read on his face.

“Anyway – I wanted you to see that people love and miss you, too. That, despite what you might think, the world would not be the same with you and the 50 years you’ve been kicking around it.” Then and only then did Peter let go of the box – his eyes flitting back and forth between Tony and whatever was in the damn thing.

Taking a deep breath, Tony pulled the top off, his head tilting when he saw what looked like a photo album sitting there. He peeked up, but Peter’s eyes were staring at the album in the box, the expression on his face unreadable. Tony took a deep breath and dug in, his curiosity winning out over any other emotion that was vying for his attention.

Opening it, Tony’s breath caught – the cover page was one of the professional photos they got done a couple months ago. The smile on both of their faces was stunning, the love written there obvious. A few of those photos were in frames around the room. In big letters it said, ‘To Tony Stark’ and under the picture the words ‘from the people who love you’ were written there.

He flipped the first page and almost lost it – the collection of him and Rhodey during college making him want to cringe and rush back up to the party all at once. His hair cut during that time of his life wasn’t the greatest – an instant regret for the party in the back look he tried to pull off for a little while washing over him. On the far side of the page, a note was written.

Happy birthday, old man!

When Peter brought this up, I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to embarrass the hell out of you. College is where you changed my life and it’ll always be one of my favorite times in life. Thanks for the memories, Tones – I love you, brother.

Rhodey

Tony glanced up, a few tears streaming down his face freely. Peter shook his head, his eyes moving back to the album in Tony’s hands. “You’re just getting started – keep going.”

He didn’t have anything left in him to argue – so he turned the page, his heart warming up a little further. The shots of him and Bruce in the lab were some he’d never seen before. There were a couple of more recent photos in there, too. The combination of Bruce and the Hulk still something that made Tony laugh to this very day – the symbiosis between the two entities just another thing to add to the long list of things that changed over the years.

Tony,

There’s too much to say and not enough space to say it. Learning and progressing and creating with you over the years is why I am the way that I am. We saved the world together, brother – that’s the ultimate bond. Thankful for you and your arrogantly brilliant ass.

Happy birthday, Tony – enjoy it.

Love you,

Bruce

There were so many pages filled to the brim with photos of him with various people – Happy, Pepper, Natasha, Clint, Thor, even Wanda and Vision. They each wrote individual notes and recalled shared memories and little thoughts and blurbs about his progressive old age and the notedly selfless way Tony could care about people. It was overwhelming – each new page eye opening, his perspective of himself and the relationship he had with these people progressively changing. This was how people saw him? He spent so much of his youth having people slander his name – it almost didn’t make sense that people could feel this kind of way about him.

When he got to the last couple of pages, Tony couldn’t stand it – he reached over and pulled Peter to him, his face settling into the safe confines of the other’s neck. “I can’t believe that you did this, baby. It’s – the best gift I’ve ever gotten.” Tony spoke the words so reverently, his entire being still a little bit in awe of what he’d seen – of the kind words that some of the best people he knew wrote about him, each one way more than he ever could have expected.

Peter wrapped his arms around him and held him close – the younger man pressing kisses against his hair and forehead every few moments. “You’re still not done yet,” the younger man reminded him – Tony pulling back to find a soft look on Peter’s face. “I think you might like these last couple the best.”

Suddenly spurred on by Peter’s words, Tony shifted his attention back to the photo album in his hand, eager fingers turning the page to find pictures of himself. The look on his face in every single one of them radiated love and excitement and pure happiness. He didn’t usually like pictures of just him – no matter how much Peter begged, he didn’t even send the man he loved selfies. Yet, he couldn’t peal his eyes away from these. Lifting them, he looked questioningly at Peter. “What are these from, even?”

Chuckling, Peter reached over and let his fingers brush across the ones within reach, the ‘for Tony only’ smile pulling his lips wide. “I took these, actually. When we first started dating, I got into the habit of snapping a picture of you when you looked happy. Then, it became a thing to catch those looks whenever I could. You’d be surprised by the number of pictures I had to choose from.” Peter spoke the words with pride, the creepiness of them not even registering with the younger man. Tony grabbed his hand and pressed a soft kiss to the knuckles – his eyes alight.

“I’m not surprised by anything that you do, Peter Parker. They’re beautiful – I didn’t know I could look like this,” Tony remarked, his voice carrying all of the awe that he felt. It warmed his heart to know that Peter was the one making him look like that – they were good for each other, but it was nice to get a real example of it.

The thought of what could come next had Tony moving on – the apprehension making his fingers tremble as he turned the page. And man did it completely knock the wind from him. The last page was a collection of pictures of him and Peter – some he’d seen before and a few he hadn’t, the candid nature of them making it seem like they were taken by other people. His chin dropped a little, the evidence that Peter felt the same way right there on the page. Some of these pictures were old – a couple of them obviously before they got together.

Reaching over, Tony grabbed Peter’s hands and tangled their fingers together – he would probably need the added strength to read the long note there. Peter’s words always had a way of bringing him to his knees, he doubted this would be any different. The other’s hand gave his a squeeze, Tony diving in the very next second.

Hey you,

When I first started this, I never thought I’d get to learn so much about you. I especially loved your college hairstyle – totally my favorite.

I know there’s not a lot you can give a person that is both a genius and a millionaire – but I figured memories are priceless and the easiest thing I could give  you. Not just memories between you and I, either. We’re just starting our journey.

I guess what I’m trying to say with all of this is – there’s nothing wrong with the years you’ve lived. They have given so many people things that are priceless. Friendship, love, mentorship, knowledge. All of those things are important. You are a manifestation of each one and that is the person I get to love on a daily basis.

Every single one of your years will always matter, Tony. I’m forever grateful that you want to spend the ones you fought so hard to get with me. That’s not something that I take for granted. You teach me things I’ll never be able to learn from anyone else. You care for me in a way that is devoted and careful – like I’m the most precious piece of china you’ve ever been given. And the way you love me, Tony, it’s something that is unexplainable and completely mind-blowing. You give yourself so fiercely – it just takes a little while to truly understand what that means.

You’re my hero, Tony. And I don’t think I’m the only one that feels that way.

I love you.

& I happen to think that’s inevitable.

Happy birthday, Tony

The tears were falling freely now – the day taking a completely different turn than he expected. Between the tenderness, spectacular sex, and this insanely heartfelt gift, Tony was out of his mind with feelings he couldn’t classify. He never liked his birthday. Whether it was a reminder of how lonely he was or a big spectacle for the people that wanted something from him – it never seemed to be the occasion that others could make out of their own special days. Though it didn’t change his opinion about the day in general, Tony wasn’t afraid to admit that the day with Peter by his side was substantially better.

He didn’t hesitate to use both hands to palm Peter’s cheeks and seal their lips together. His wet face made the kiss a little messy – but neither of them seemed to care. Feeling Peter give into it, Tony tilted his head and deepened the kiss, the closeness just right for the situation. “I love you, Pete. This is – I can’t believe you did this for me.”

Leaning their foreheads together, Peter rubbed his nose against Tony’s, his eyes closing as he leaned into the connection between them. “I love you, Tony. I’m going to take care of you for as long as you’ll have me.”

“Forever then?” Tony asked immediately, the words tumbling out on their own accord.

“Yeah, baby. Forever.” Peter answered, his lips finding Tony’s again.

“Happy birthday, Tony Stark.”

[thekidultlife]

IT'S OUR 2ND ANNIVERSARY! 🎉🥳🥂

@Authors' Note: This is Leanne and Hyeri's story. Please bear with us as we try to reminisce over the past years and celebrate where we are now as writers, as friends, and most especially, as individuals who have grown a lot and changed a lot through the years.

Warnings: Contains a semi-reveal of what we actually look like in real life lol so if you’re interested, keep reading down lol.

We started this blog in 2017. We deactivated in 2018, just weeks before what was supposed to be our first anniversary. We stayed silent throughout the rest of 2018 and 2019, but we picked up where we left off this 2020. Despite the messy history of this blog, though, and the changes in our lives, we are extremely happy that we did come back. And the reason why we came back? Well, it’s pretty simple. 

The same love for SEVENTEEN, which made us start this blog, brought us back again.

We’re not lying when we tell you that this blog was what made us closer and what our friendship grow deeper. 

Back then, we were just classmates who found common interests in each other (history, writing novels, analyzing politics, and being one of the ‘Big 3′ in our class lol) but didn’t know how to bond over these interests. But when we both started sharing a room in a dormitory close to our university in 2017, things changed. And things changed because we both found SEVENTEEN. 

LEANNE: I wasn’t really a K-pop fan during that time. But I remember sitting beside Hyeri at our study area, watching her as she watched DWC and thinking to myself, “Maybe this could be it. Maybe this could be the ‘thing’ that we could bond over and could make our friendship grow. And so I leaned over and asked, “Oooh, which group is that?” What followed then was a night where I became a convert, and SVT became a part of me forever. 

After that night, we found ourselves always talking about them because they became the thread that made us close. And while bonding over SVT, we started to become more open about our lives and about ourselves in terms of personalities. We didn’t know why but we just clicked. Before we started becoming really close, we had different sets of friends. But then, we just knew that our friendship was different because we truly understand each other. 

HYERI: I wasn't a Kpop stan before either. Like if my high school me knew I'd become like this, she'll cringe in embarrassment. But it happened. A friend recommended me to watch React to the K because I'm a huge classical music nut, and I discovered Seventeen there. I seriously can't remember that exact moment when Leanne asked, but I do remember that one time when I showed her the dance practice for Aju Nice. It was one of the first things I showed to her, and then without knowing, we've already watched a lot of Seventeen videos. 

Whenever I look back at that time, I just remember how happy we were even though it wasn't really a good moment in our lives. There were a lot of stress and problems, and everything just seemed to spiral down from there. But I just feel a warm feeling in my chest whenever July and August comes, I smell the rain, and remember how many nights we spent binging on Seventeen, talking inside the nearby 7/11 until 1am, knowing that classes were cancelled the next day because of the weather. It was truly a magical moment for me because I never had a friend like Leanne, like sometimes we just have the same thought patterns, and we bonded over Seventeen so much. We would just talk endlessly about them, brainstorming ideas for fics and so on to the point that we only stopped because the 5AM alarm went off lmao Those times were just absolutely incredible.

LEANNE: We also have kind of the same goal back then: to have a platform where we could practice writing. Hyeri suggested that we try creating a blog for fanfiction. I agreed because I truly wanted to try and I was so obsessed with Choi Seungcheol back then. So we planned our first fics, who posts first, and we created it. Just like that. On August 12, 2017, we made our first post.

Our first name was “diabolically-diamondiferous”. We wanted something different (and we now admit that we did go overboard with the bing different thing lol) and so we agreed that this would be our URL. We chose it because of the concept that there is a duality in this blog that readers should look forward to, a dynamic that they would only see here, I guess? That was the goal. That was how it all started. 

HYERI: I was a Wonwoo stan back then. I had already written Love is A Fallacy and a bit of 30 Nights before we even created the blog, and I wanted an avenue where I can post it. I admit I myself can't think of a better url than "diabolically-diamondiferous", so I just went with it. 

Honestly, the blog has helped me a lot with writing. I used to write anime fanfictions and original stories, and I've already established my style back then. This blog has really helped me a lot with refining my writing style and experimenting with new ideas and ways to tell a story, as well as being able to write quickly. I do think I've improved with my dialogues and the way I pace my stories, and make them feel organic. And with that, I've never realized I've already written a lot, until I arranged the masterlist recently.

What began with a few stories turned into hundreds as we started pouring our hearts into this blog. And we would be lying if we told you that it was pressure-free. 

LEANNE: During this time, my responsibilities at uni, family and other personal matters made me unable to focus on the blog a lot. I really feel sorry for Hyeri during this time because she was the one who was more consistent with posting her stories. I joke every now and then these days whenever she couldn’t write that it’s okay, you once had too much weight and now I’ll carry my share and more, too, if it gets hard for you. Even though I was busy with other things, however, Hyeri really pulled through and made this blog come alive. And as a friend, she really helped me get through my darkest moments. This blog, too, became my crutch. Whenever my heart got broken, I would write here. I would try to find my voice (and at that time, I couldn’t find myself, either. Just ask Hyeri why, lol.) in writing. I was experimenting what voice I had while writing and what genre fits me. 

HYERI: Following Leanne's, I guess after our trip to Korea, things became way harder. I had a lot of low points back then as well: losing my scholarship and just so much responsibility in life and at school. I did carry much of the weight of the blog after that semester, and I'm surprised how I managed to do that. I kept on badgering Leanne to finish some requests, but she really had a lot going on as well. Not to mention our plans to join an exchange program to Korea which was another hell we signed up for. It was extra difficult because our department doesn't want us to leave, thinking we're just running away from the strict (and often unfair) professors (ironic when our major is International Relations).Seventeen and this blog was the only way we could bond together and have fun and just forget about everything. I could remember sending each other fake messages from Seventeen just to cheer the other up when things get depressing, or imagining what it would feel like to be an idol and whatnot. It sounds silly now, but that was the only way we could cope with how intense and exhausting our lives were. It was the only thing that kept the constant dread in our nerves from taking over.

What began as an experimental way to boost creativity became something like a career, and steering our motivation, was of course, the boys. Our boys. The amazing people that we write about and that we imagine about. They made us happy during the times when there was nothing to be happy about. They made us take risks that brought out the braveness we didn’t know we had in us, and they made us feel hopeful about the future. 

However, we hit a hurdle we couldn’t bring ourselves back from hurdle after hurdle during our second semester as juniors in college.  

LEANNE: Second semester of junior year in college was really hard for me. The bottom line of it all was the manipulative relationship that I was in with my s/o back then, but a lot of things piled up as well: school responsibilities (I was handling three classes at one point as a professor’s assistant and then ran for a student government position I didn’t really want but felt obliged to). All the while this was happening, I was really feeling myself slip away. I was suffering from depression but I had a lot of things going on around me that I could not just drop because people were depending on me. The only way I thought I would be able to not give up is by going somewhere else to finish my studies. Yes, the environment got that toxic. I really needed to get away. Around this time, I wasn’t active on the blog anymore. Right after elections, I lost my motivation to do anything. I would sometimes pitch in to help Hyeri with some requests, but it took way more effort than I thought it would. 

Hyeri and I decided that we needed to take the risk of applying for the South Korean exchange program, which was one of the best that our uni had to offer. We figured that since our grades were okay, it would be easy. Boy were we wrong.

HYERI: The Coldest Human, The Warmest Robot was the last fic I've posted in the blog before the hiatus. I couldn't do it anymore. There were so many problems and issues with the exchange program that I could no longer handle the blog alone. Leanne had withdrawn too, considering how she has her own things to face as well. It was a really difficult time. After being rejected a visa, I just can't think of writing, or even Seventeen anymore. Just their presence seemed to only remind me that I had been rejected after months and months of preparation. Their songs only reminded me of our disappointments. It was awful and I knew I can't face them at that time. I found myself in Taiwan. Alone. Leanne had stayed and it was depressing. I had to move on despite that, but it felt like an empty success.

We planned to become a part of an exchange program in South Korea, but it didn’t pull through at the last minute. We had staked all our bets, and we lost motivation in a lot of things. One of those things was this blog. We just knew that we had to let it go during 2018, because it was impossible to maintain it when you don’t feel inspired about life anymore. 

HYERI: The Coldest Human, The Warmest Robot was the last fic I've posted in the blog before the hiatus. I couldn't do it anymore. There were so many problems and issues with the exchange program that I could no longer handle the blog alone. Leanne had withdrawn too, considering how she has her own things to face as well. It was a really difficult time. After being rejected a visa, I just can't think of writing, or even Seventeen anymore. Just their presence seemed to only remind me that I had been rejected after months and months of preparation. Their songs only reminded me of our disappointments. It was awful and I knew I can't face them at that time. I found myself in Taiwan. Alone. Leanne had stayed and it was depressing. I had to move on despite that, but it felt like an empty success. Right after going back home for winter vacation, I remember I was angry crying because I knew Leanne can't do anything because of her circumstances, even if she wanted to go to Taiwan so much.

LEANNE: I was miserable during first semester as a senior because everything did not go as planned. I was really losing the resolve to keep going on because nothing had gone the way I had planned it to be. I think the only silver lining during 2018 was that my parents and friends finally stepped in to protect me from the person who had been harming me emotionally and therefore affecting my self-esteem and resolve. We also went to Macau, where I really healed a lot as well while teaching music with close friends from church. But beyond that, I could see no other way to get through the last semester except to follow Hyeri and go to Taiwan. It wasn’t just her friendship that I was missing; it was also about that goal I had in my mind: to find peace and quiet away from everything that had hurt me and drained me.

We didn’t have any high hopes about what lay ahead, but the biggest plot twist came.

LEANNE: By some miracle, I managed to convince my parents that I was well enough to go to Taiwan and that I would be safer there. It all happened so fast. February I was still crying, standing at the train tracks, telling our other friend that I wanted to just end it. But then March came and my visa got approved on a Friday. Three days later, just packing whatever I had with me in my apartment, I left for Taiwan.

It was a miracle Hyeri and I still talk about a lot. We started to heal from everything that we had gone through. We started to re-explore our friendship and in the end, after so much drama and after so much challenges, we finally concluded that this friendship of ours was really something that we wanted to keep forever. We grew a lot through the years.

HYERI: Who would've thought that with a lot of begging and pleading and praying, Leanne was finally able to go to Taiwan. I was so happy. It was one of the happiest memories of my life so far. Being in Taiwan, away from the world, from the responsibilities back at home, it was such a liberating time.It was also the exact period which we started to heal from past disappointments. Seventeen no longer gave me the pain I used to feel, and to this day, You Made My Day---the album which was released before everything happened, and reminded me a lot of what had transpired---is one of my favourite Seventeen albums.

But here we are now, in 2020. It was really because of Hit the Road that we decided to come back. We agreed to start writing again come June 2020. We started doing what we loved again. 

HYERI: We had fully healed from everything and we're fully ready to come back to writing about our precious boys! I am so happy to be able to finally celebrate the actual anniversary for this blog!

LEANNE: And now, here we are, celebrating our anniversary! The first one we really had! This is all impromptu editing but we really wanted to make it special. 

Highlights Throughout the Years:

💎 Love is A Fallacy (Lawyer!Wonwoo)

The first ever fic I've written for SVT. I remember I wrote this while I was at the dorm on my bed, it was a miraculously stress-free night. The song I kept on playing was "20" and I could imagine it being the OST if this was a kdrama 😂 This was at a time when Wonwoo was still my bias.

💎Adagio Cantabile (College Student!Jihoon)

A fic I first wrote after Jihoon became my bias. I could still remember, I was so inspired by a fic titled Customer Satisfaction, that I wrote this one. Plus I'm really into Classical Music, that I could just write one whole fic about it. I'm still amazed how we were able to write fanfiction even though we were swamped with school work, and I mean, SWAMPED, like a lot of exams, graded recitation, things to memorize, super long essays, but we still managed to write. 😂

💎Saffron (Victorian AU DK)

This was written shortly after Leanne and I went back from Korea. I was so blissfully happy back then. I think I've spent a night or two writing this. This was heavily inspired by the game "Chocolatier" which I was playing days before I've started writing 😂 I really love writing for DK, he's such a positively innocent character who was so endearing.

💎The Coldest Human; Warmest Robot (Android!Jihoon)

This was probably the last one shot I've posted before the hiatus in 2018. I remember finishing it in my hometown when we went there for summer vacation. It was a really bad time ngl I lost my scholarship and was supposed to go to an exchange program to South Korea with Leanne. Back I didn't know if I could support that dream financially.

💎The Most Convenient Escape (Soulmate!Jihoon)

This was the first fic I've written after the hiatus. Truthfully, over 2018-2019, I lost my love for SVT. It was painful to be reminded of the fact that we weren't able to go to Korea, so I avoided them while I was in Taiwan. But I came back around this year and started to write this one. It's heavily inspired by the book "Voices of the Past" which is a compilation of American newspaper articles over the years, and anime reviews which talked about Deconstructing a genre (i.e., Madoka Magica and Evangelion). Right now I really do want to finish this series.

Highlights Throughout the Years

💎The Return of Superman Series

My first work, TROS Seungcheol, was the first fic in the entire blog that I was truly proud of. All my other works were too rushed, too experimental for my own taste even, and just doesn’t look like what I, Leanne, if you personally know me, would write about. I strongly believe that there is a unique voice in each story, a voice that belongs only to its writer, and back then, I was still trying to find that voice. The Return of Superman was my breakthrough in writing. I suddenly found an AU that I truly loved to write about, and, most importantly, my voice in writing.

💎After-Party, Only Us, and Afterglow | Yoon Jeonghan

This is the spin-off series that came from Yoon Jeonghan’s The Return of Superman. I started to become more comfortable in my style of writing as I wrote these. You will notice a change of style after the first part, “After-Party”. My writing style has matured, and I really congratulate myself a lot for that. It took me years and tons of experiences to get that flavor I had always wanted in my works! Haha. 

💎The And Series

This is another one of those imagines that really brought out the hopeless romantic inside me, and for that, I am proud of it. It’s still mostly in the works, but I  am really happy about how it’s turning out.

💎Through the Seasons Series

Ah, this is my pet project. All my heart is poured into this one. This is the first series that I truly explored the beauty of love in realistic settings. My writing process here is done by looking at real couples LOL and also tapping into beautiful memories of mine about love and about life and all the drama that comes along. I’m really glad that a lot of our new readers liked the first one that came out!

Our story-time ends here. 

All in all, we just want to say thank you. Thank you for everything. For being with us through this crazy ride of a blog, truly, sincerely, thank you. From our followers since the beginning, to the new ones that we are finding joy in communicating with now, thank you. From the bottom of our hearts!

LET’S MAKE MORE MEMORIES TOGETHER!

- Leanne and Hyeri. 

[suntumarchive]

Argonian Mpreg Birth/Oviposition~ This is my first time writing something like that so bear with me pls! It starts off painful, but he starts to reaaally enjoy it~ Not SFW ahead :3c He believes it’s a parasite at first so please be careful if that’s not your thing!

___

Something… didn’t feel right.

Even though Claudinei couldn’t put his finger on it, he simply knew that something was wrong with him. The fatigue weighing down on his body and the ache in his muscles weren’t a result of excessive fighting; not this time. It felt different. Worse. This kind of pain was much harder to bear than the usual leftovers of his battles.

The Argonian wasn’t one to be prone to sickness, so it was unusual for him to experience these symptoms. The outbursts of sweat, waves of nausea and the dull pain in his abdomen were almost foreign to him. Claudinei tried to recall the last time he’d experienced them with this intensity… Sure, sometimes he ended up drinking a bit too much ale and wine, or eating a bit too much of the raw meat he enjoyed so much, but not this time… In fact, he’d spent the past few days with Faendal, the Bosmer huntsman of Riverwood, who was a rather decent cook and refused to serve his venison raw, even to his half-animal friend. So… why? What could Claudinei’s body be so upset about?

The lizard man let out a breathy groan, biting down on his lip as he forced himself to keep walking uphill - despite his rebelling insides begging him to stop. Mentally, he was fighting a war against himself, torn between wanting to succumb to his struggling body, and needing to find an apparent hideout of the so called Silver Hand. Werewolf hunters. Murderers. A threat to his pack. The Companions relied on him. His people relied on him. They were the closest thing to a family that he had… There was just no time for breaks when pack members could be in danger right now.

There was a good reason why Claudinei had joined the Companions in the first place. He had so much raw energy and anger in his heart, and paired with his desire to do good, it was a weapon against himself and the few people he cared about. Ever since he got accepted into their circles, he’d learned to control his temperament and use it for proper battling. For defending the weak. Normally he enjoyed killing for fun, especially Nords and racists, but right now he wasn’t even in the mood for a bloodbath… a bad sign.

A sudden, stabbing pain shot through his bowels, causing him to hunch over and gasp desperately. For a moment, the severity of the cramp seemed to push all the air out of his lungs, and his shaking knees threatened to give in. Claude felt like a newborn deer, struggling to stay on his feet and praying to whatever Gods where listening right now for this sensation to pass. He could feel his own belly gurgling ominously underneath his armor, quickly bloating up and pushing against the tight, cold steel, which somehow made him feel even sicker. It felt like something wanted to come out of him… Claudinei feared he knew what that would be, and the heat of shame caused his cheeks to flush underneath his scales.

With his eyes pressed shut, the Argonian tried to focus on his breathing, and regain his composure. Well, as embarrassing as it would be to relieve himself in the middle of the goddamn forest, if it meant he’d feel better… Still hunched over, he somehow made his way towards a nearby bush, surrounded by tall grass. Once again, the embarrassment filled his chest with heat, and he looked around several times for potential onlookers. The calm ambience of the forest around him didn’t want to match the sweat inducing wave of illness he was experiencing… in fact, the voices of the singing birds just made him feel worse. Lonelier in his misery. And at the same time, as if they were mocking him.

After fighting his way out of his armor, Claudinei already felt a bit better… the fresh, cool air brushing over his skin was comforting, even though it quickly grew cold due to the sweat continuously forming underneath his scales.

Please, let this be over quickly…

The lizard man crouched down and lifted his head towards the sky. But… nothing happened. This was, of course, not the first time his body played dirty tricks on him like that. He would probably just have to wait. Try harder. His scales shimmered in a light grey as he tried to push… another angry groan erupted from his middle, making him wince. Why wouldn’t anything move?

What do you want from me?

Claudinei attempted to give himself a clumsy belly rub, trying to help… things move along, but what he felt underneath his claws made him freeze. Was it just his imagination, or was his belly actually moving…? No, no way… that couldn’t be. The young man held his breath, feeling his heart starting to beat rapidly in his throat as he tried to feel for more movement. He was hoping, no, begging the Gods that it was just his dizzy, foggy mind playing tricks on him – but no… There it was… right underneath his belly button, barely noticeable. Something nudged against his fingers. What in the world was that?! Did his raw meat binges catch up with him? Shit… no, no, no! Did he catch a parasite?! What was he supposed to do now?!

Before the panic even properly began to settle in his chest, another sharp cramp caused him to whine like a kicked puppy. With a gross, airy sounding gurgle, he felt something shift in his lower belly… Clearly, it was much bigger than what his bowels were used to. It seemed like this parasite, or whatever it was, had pretty much been sitting still inside him all this time, but his attempt to push it out had startled it into moving. That’s what the pain had been… it was probably causing a blockage inside him. The poor guy didn’t dare to lay a finger on his belly again… he was scared he could make that thing inside him anxious, or worse, make it want to push and burst out of his belly. It definitely already felt like whatever was inside him wanted to find a way out… Claude felt his scaly skin stretching as it moved around, seemingly wriggling through his bowels. It was so sickening, so nauseating, and painful… so painful he couldn’t put it into words. Was this gonna be how it ended for him? What an awfully embarrassing way to go… busted like an overcooked sausage because he couldn’t stop himself from enjoying his meat raw.

Instead of the pop! he feared to hear and feel coming from his belly, Claudinei was surprised when he realized that the squirming in his gut actually seemed to move this thing along… A glimpse of hope began to rise in him. Perhaps he could just get it out the ‘easy’ way after all? The young man figured he should try to push along, to help his unwanted guest find the exit… but the more he wanted to squeeze, the more he realized that this wasn’t going the way he’d expected it to. Why didn’t it make its way towards his rear? Why did the pain begin to move between his legs instead? The color faded from his face, leaving him pale as a sheet. He just remembered the fact that he was an Argonian – and that every Argonian, no matter if male or female, had a cloaca. Even though Claudinei was more than confused and panicky, especially about how and why it was in there, he didn’t really care which way it would come out – as long as it would come out!!

The human-lizard whimpered miserably as he lowered himself down on the cool grass, and finally managed to lay on his side with his legs close to his middle. Sweat was still continuously piling on his forehead, his belly groaning and gurgling in a pathetic attempt to get this thing to move… his whole body was clearly working hard to get this unwanted visitor going. Claudinei inhaled sharply, barely managing to bite back a pained scream as he felt the form of the parasite finally slip closer to the exit. It was so much bigger and firmer than what his body was accustomed to, and once again, he feared it was going to burst out of him any second. It almost felt like a rock, sitting heavily in his pelvis and pressing its broad, round shape against his sensitive genitals. The squirming had quietened down by far, now that he would need it to assist him in pushing it out. While the poor guy forced himself to push and press rhythmically, his mind was racing, trying to figure out just what it could be… It almost felt like a cocoon of some sort. There was another wriggle – now it was in a position where it was pressed right against his male genitals, which were tucked away inside his cloaca – and usually kept very safe in there.

“Oh Gods, help me…!”, Claude’s voice broke, and was finally interrupted by a much needed, quite relieving yell. The sea of trees that surrounded him swallowed up his panicked, desperate crying, and with the singing of the birds still mocking him, he continued to try and force this foreign thing to move. All of a sudden, the pain subsided almost instantly, and Claudinei couldn’t help but let out a high pitched moan as it finally shot out of him. Finally, his poor, stretched cloaca could relax, his poor organs could settle… no, not yet. The lizard only had a few seconds to gaze over his own shoulder, down at whatever he just pushed out, before the pain started all over again. A blue, oval shape, about the size of his head… Was that an egg?!

Right as the Argonian screamed in pain once again, he remembered… he remembered that he and Faendal had had sex the other day. He remembered how much he had thanked the universe for his cloaca, the ability to experience so much pleasure crash against his body like a wave… but at what cost? Now he was here, digging his claws into the soft, mossy ground underneath him, with tears streaming down his face… And yet, after the first egg was out, his body seemed to be more prepared for the ‘birth’. The next egg didn’t cause the same, painful spasms in his lower belly and back anymore; no, instead it nestled itself directly into his pelvic area. Claudinei panted, cursed to himself, and pushed... Once again, the heavy sensation pressed directly against his manhood – but this time, he could feel his length, his erection, pressing right back. Shit, was he really aroused? How? Since when? This shit was painful as hell before! But… not anymore. Surprised, the reptile man actually found himself moaning with pleasure as the egg stretched out his cloaca. The familiar, prickling heat of arousal began to fill his lower belly and genitals, more and more, making him want move with the rhythm of his own pushing. After a few seconds of gasping and squeezing, the egg plopped out, right next to the first one… and again, Claude’s body didn’t give him a break.

There was that sensation again, the egg shifting down towards his genitals; and this time, Claudinei had dropped almost all his tension. He allowed his own arousal to completely guide his body. What had been so incredibly painful before suddenly filled his body with unfiltered desire, causing him to blush at his own thoughts. The reptile man was hoping for the egg to be bigger than the others, for it to stay inside a little longer… His eyes rolled back with pleasure as the rhythmic spasming of his genitals tickled him to the core. The egg pressed down on the Argonian’s erection, as if it were pressing a button to send waves of blissful arousal through his body.

“Ahh-!! Oh S-shit-!!!”, Claudinei howled, a high pitched squeal making its way past his lips as he reached his climax. The throbbing of his genitals finally brought the egg to daylight, and he was filled with nothing but intense, but rewarding exhaustion as this hellish experience finally came to an end with a positive twist…

For what felt like several minutes, the young man would just lay there with his eyes closed and allow his body to relax. Finally, the sound of the birds didn’t seem to be making fun of him anymore… finally, it felt genuinely peaceful.

Thank you… I’m so glad that’s over…

But was it really…? Claudinei managed to force himself to look over his own shoulder again, observing the eggs that had come out of him. It hadn’t even properly hit him yet that these were… his. He’d had no intention to be a father. Not yet. Especially not now, when he was in the middle of an important mission. God, he’d lost so much time with this… oh well. After that scare, he needed a snack. If he was going to be breaking into a hideout, he might as well do it with a belly full of raw eggs – one of his favorite foods in the world.