#wasn't planning on this going on for so long but I had a lot of stuff to get off my chest

[writergirlll]

Will you write a lazy day with Charles Leclerc and Leo? Maybe Charles came back exhausted from a race that didn't go so well and all he needs is a hug from his girlfriend?

LAZY EVENING/ CL16

Charles Leclerc x reader

sorry if this isn't what you wanted, but I enjoyed writing it! It's just a lot of fluff sorry guys!!

Charles was always good at what he did. Cooking, making things, cuddling with your dog, or driving in Formula 1. He broke the curse of Monaco and thus began his huge career. But this race he ran didn't go too well, due to Ferrari's bad strategy and bad tires. And so he got a DNF in the first qualification and placed 5th in the overall race.

Which is certainly not a bad thing, especially since this race was in Las Vegas, where there are always the most participants and the track is very difficult to remember, but for Ferrari, who had to finish the season well, it wasn't enough.

Charles was mainly angry with himself. He knew that he should have tried harder and that he had messed up the race, but all he wanted was to finally get out of the cameras and pitiful stares and get cozy in bed with his girlfriend.

Unfortunately, You wasn't at his race because you had to stay at the hotel and do computer work due to work reasons that you hated. However, you definitely did not miss the race and watched it until the end, when Verstappen, Sainz and Norris stood on the podium.

But as midnight slowly approached and you tried harder and harder to stay awake to wait for Charles, your eyes closed until they closed completely and you fell asleep over an open laptop with work and the TV on with the main broadcast of interviews with F1 drivers.

When Charles came home, he expected you to be waiting for him. Therefore, he opened the door sharply, put his backpack on the floor and gave a small shout; "Love, I'm home"!

You twitched and grunted slightly in your sleep before turning over on the couch to face the TV and snuggling further into the blankets. You didn't plan to open your eyes because in your sleepy state you didn't realize that Charles was home.

Hearing no response, Charles frowned slightly and slowly walked into the living room. When he saw how the TV was on with F1 and you were sleeping on the couch, he couldn't help but feel happiness and love.

You were his everything. In good times and in bad, you were his sunshine. And that's why when he saw you sleeping in front of the TV with the footage of the other Formula 1 drivers, it warmed his heart. He knew very well how sad you felt when you couldn't make it to his race.

He slowly walked over to you, kneeling by your head and slowly brushing your hair away from your face. Then he bent down so as not to wake you and planted a soft kiss on your forehead.

You smiled a little under his touch as you realized who it was and slowly opened your tired eyes. “Hi Char” you smiled at him and reached out to stroke his cheek. “Congratulations on the race” you smiled.

He leaned into your touch and his smile brightened even more. “Shall we go to sleep?” he asked as he saw you close your eyes again even though you were trying not to and you slowly nodded.

“And where is Leo?” he asked one more question before he could pick you up in his arms and carry you to bed. You didn't answer anything and just lifted the blanket, where a small golden dog was hidden by your lap, which has become your "child" for the six months you've had it.

When he saw Charles, he immediately got up and ran his short legs to him for a kiss and a cuddle.

After Charles cuddled up to him, he scooped you up in his arms as a reward for having to wait for him and carried you to bed with Leo at your heels.

He slowly laid you down on the bed, you shifted to your side and waited for him to take off his shirt, change his pants and come to you.

Before long, he finally appeared by the bed in just his shorts and you couldn't help but bite your lip when you saw him like that. You still didn't understand how someone like him could be yours.

He climbed into bed behind you, pulling you to his side and you rested your head on his shoulder. One of his hands caressed your back and the other brushed your hair away from your face. Again. You should probably get a haircut..

“I love you do you know that?” he whispered in your ear and you raised your head to be directly facing him.

“How could I not know Char?” you smiled and leaned down so your lips met his halfway. It was a loving kiss that you thought was more of a good night, but later it got more and more passionate.

When you were both out of breath, you had to pull away from each other. “Are you sure you want to go to sleep?” he asked, looking all over your face.

You did, you think them even though you were actually 100% clear. "I'm not sure..." you whispered before smiling and bringing your head closer to his.

"I think you know" Charles smiled lightly and connected his lips to yours again, this time in a hungrier kiss.

[paperstarwriters]

Sorry for the light mode lmao

Anyways I was going to respond to this in a comment saying—and I quote "💕💕💕💕 Idk If I'd be able to actually write a fic from this but it really just scratches the good itch in my brain lmao like—" and then proceeded to basically write TWO small drabbles in the comments lmaooo

anyways it was getting too long for that so I'm just gonna put it into a reblog.

But like imagine you're running away from base—maybe it's to goof off or maybe it's to avoid all the trouble that's going on. Maybe you want to prove yourself capable, or maybe you got into an argument and stormed off believing no one would follow. Whatever the case, you've left the base, and Optimus took notice. He hunts you down, searching for you discretely in his alt-mode in your favorite populated areas, and transforming to get a better view in your favorite but less populated spots. He's doing this to protect you, he argues to himself, turning over every stone, nearly decimating entire buildings as he feverishly looks for you. You could be caught by Decepticons, you could be harassed by some lot of unsavory criminals, it was getting late—where were you???

The moment he finds you of course, he's running over to you, eager to see that you're okay, eager to make sure you're protected and safe. Eager to see you.

It doesn't stop the slight terror he imposes, when his head swivels to turn to you, blue lights gleaming as they've caught their target, and the thundering footsteps of someone approaching breaks your initial silence. Under the shadow, you can't tell if he's mad.

Under the shadow, you can't tell if that's a bad thing.

Oooooorrrr—

maybe this is you goofing off! One of many pictures taken after you had been trying to take a picture of the sunset, and curiously, Optimus peered into the frame, shadowed from the setting sun, but blue eyes still gleaming curiously as he tried to assess what you were doing. It makes him look like some sort of weird cryptid—like one of those shitty pictures of mothman, and all too eagerly you lean into the idea of it. After all, this wasn't tangible evidence of his face and existence in your possession, you could easily pass it off as a collection of weird cryptid sightings you've had should it ever put you or him in any danger, and if you had kiss-marks over the printed pictures, well hey, some people wanted to fuck mothman, why couldn't you simp for your own "freshly discovered" cryptid? So you take more pictures of him, revealing your master plan of pretending he's some janky silly creature of folklore, that few would take seriously just so you could have pictures of him on your person. He's confused but interested, and you vow to find and share stories of the modern folklore of the area, but he agrees to participate in your pictures, letting you snap a few pictures that teeter the line of creepy, and yet look nothing but pretty and adorable on his features.

As the sun sets further, you catch one picture where the dying light paints his face gold as he stares towards it, a beautiful contrast to his blue optics looking almost honey soft, in the orange-y light and for the first time you get a picture that shows his face, distorted only by the glowing light, but identifiable to a keen eye. All too suddenly, you're struck with the urge to find and collect many more pictures of him, to drag him out with you to enjoy the sunset, if only to see that face—that expression again.

And all too soon, the sun sets, and In the darkness of the growing night you can hardly see his silhouette against the surrounding darkness, just two twin spheres of blue, looking almost like some UFO in the sky through the pixelated screen of your camera. You still take the picture, you still giggle at the sight, but you make the mental note to figure out more ways to take and keep pictures of this ever stoic bot.

Optimus, on the other hand, is all to delighted at the attention you douse him in, in the delight you express at the ability to keep a picture of him for yourself. His fingers almost twitch at the urge to do the same, to have you captured in a picture so that he might have your likeness when ever you stray away from him. For work or to return home or whatever, something to ease the ache of your absence. For now though, engraving the image into his processor will be sufficient.

I touched grass a few weeks ago and while aggressively and illegally speeding through highways like Blurr (for legal reasons this is a joke), I snapped an ✨ aesthetic ✨ sunset pic. But the vibes were giving OG Bayverse, heavy 2007 vibes, like BIG TIME, so I edited Optimus in there cuz why the fuck not? 🌚

(Edit: some ppl said it looked creepy and I kinda see it now so I added eyes to make it creepier. I like it the creepiness, it’s a vibe wtf?)

[billthedrake]

GOING LONG ON BLACK FRIDAY

A follow up to Thanksgiving Quickie

It was a good workout, both Murray men going hard on leg day at the suburban gym. There was some post-Thanksgiving crowd at the gym, working off the big meal or just taking advantage of a day off work.

Surprisingly, sex wasn't on Cooper's mind. When he was in the gym, he got a game focus, and even afterward, when his dad took him out for a casual lunch at one of their favorite spots, it just felt like bonding time with his father.

It was that for Brian Murray, too, only he'd been hatching a plan. As they finished up their meal, the man got a playful grin on his face. "So, buddy... I was thinking... maybe I could text your mother and tell her we have some Christmas shopping to do."

This was the strangest thing to Cooper about the affair he was carrying on with his dad. Well, nearly the strangest thing. But seeing his father's conspiratorial side was a thrill.

"Yeah?" the jock asked, quickly picking up on the fact that shopping was not in fact the plan.

Brian knew he shouldn't be so excited himself. But the freedom of being out of the house made him really want this. "When was the last time we went long, stud?" he asked, his voice getting a deep gravely whisper.

Cooper's face flushed red. He was somehow cuter when he blushed, his dad decided. "A while. How long we talking, Dad?"

Brian shrugged. "A couple hours. If you're up for it."

The tight end was getting horny now, his dick plumping up in his joggers. "You know I am, sir," he grunted.

They were both nervous and excited as they went to the car. Brian announced he was making a quick stop at the drug store, and when Coop saw his old man walking out to the car, his beefy body looking great in the workout clothes, the jock instinctively knew there as a fresh container of vaseline in the bag. Brian practically tossed it next to the seat as he got in.

"Ready kiddo?" he grinned.

"I can't believe we're doing this," Cooper said. "Like... where?"

"A surprise," Brian said, reaching down to rearrange the bone forming in his own sweats.

As they drove across town, Cooper reached over and started feeling up his dad's cock through the thin fabric.

Brian had a horny smile and spread his legs to give his son access to feeling up the hardon. "You trying to cause a wreck or something?" he teased.

Cooper laughed. "You're a great driver, Dad," he said as he undid his seatbelt and began to lean over to the driver's seat.

"Coop!" Brian objected but already his son was pulling down the sweats and going down on his father.

It was a novel sensation, that sexual stimulation that normally would get him off fast, were it not that his mind was on the road and the recognition of the risk. At the stop light he looked down to see Cooper's short haired skull bobbing up and down. His son had one hell of a sexual imagination. "Um, buddy... you might want to let up."

Cooper got the message. Normally he'd love to suck his father off like this, but having a couple hours with Dad was a treat he didn't want to spoil prematurely. "All right," he said as he leaned up, wiping the spit off his chin. "But I think we have something to do in the future."

Brian grinned and shook his head. "I should be lecturing you, son," he said. "But yeah, I'm gonna want to experience that again some time."

It didn't take long for them to arrive. It was an empty driveway in front of a quiet house in a leafy, quiet neighborhood.

"Where are we?" Cooper asked as they got out of the car.

"A house I'm redoing," Brian said, bag in hand as he led Cooper to the front door. There was a keypad lock and the contractor punched the code in to open it.

It was a nice house that needed a lot of work, Cooper knew. There were drop cloths around the living room and some boxes of supplies in the hallway that Brian led them down.

"We'll have some nice privacy here," Brian boasted as he finally led them to a sunnier bedroom in the back. There was just an inflated air mattress on the floor with a strewn old bedsheet and a couple of rags in the corner. He had a proud look on his face as he looked over at Cooper until he got a more apologetic expression. "Sorry I don't do romance well, Coop," he said.

The athlete's heart pounded as he stepped up to his father. He had a couple inches of height on his old man but he still considered Brian a masculine ideal. Big, strong, powerful. The teen's hands wrapped around his dad's waist and pulled the 48 year old closer.

"I just like spending time with you, Dad," he muttered before leaning in for a soft kiss.

God, there was the sweet daddy's boy coming out, Brian thought as he made out with his son. Their hands explored the strong bodies beneath their gym clothes. And that ball throwing hand back on Brian's firm crotch, massaging the dad bone there.

They took their clothes off, stripping for each other as they watched from opposite sides of the blow up mattress.

"I gotta think of a trip for us to go on," Brian said. Already feeling greedy about wanting more alone time.

"I got a birthday coming up," Cooper grinned, very into the idea.

"And Spring Break," Brian added with a naughty glint in his eye.

Cooper was naked first, and his dick was rock hard as he crouched onto the blow up bed then reclined on it. Even if it was inflated it didn't fully support all of his athletic body without sagging. "How often we get to use this place?" he asked his dad, who was now peeling off his socks and removing his watch before joining Cooper on the mattress.

"Maybe three weeks," he said.

Their bodied connected in their nakedness, the warmth offsetting the coolness of the air in the empty house.

"Nice," Cooper said, running his hands along his dad's strong back and feeling the man's weight on top of him, their hard cocks mashed together and their chests touching.

Brian's eyes were happy and full of emotion. "Thanks for yesterday, Coop," he said.

"I should be thanking you, Dad," his son replied. "Seriously... I love every second, even if..." He didn't have to finish his thought.

"Yeah," Brian said. There was so much that was wrong about what they were doing. In a fucked up way, he felt bad he couldn't be closer to Coop, not in that way.

They made out and writhed together. It was tawdry as hell, fitted together on a twin-size mattress on the floor. It turned Coop on, and drove Brian crazy. As they broke their kiss, the father began attacking Coop's corded neck with kisses and soft licking.

Cooper didn't realize he was a little ticklish until he felt the fluttering mouth and one-day stubble along his bare skin, teasing, scraping, working further down.

"Oh fuck, Dad!" the jock hissed when Brian took his cock into the warm wet mouth. Somewhere along the way, his stud dad had learned how to suck dick. Up and down, steady with just the right amount of suction, Brian worked his son's seven incher, getting closer and closer to the balls before he finally pulled off.

"Don't want you to cum yet," he admonished.

"No, sir."

The dad began licking Cooper's nuts, relishing the softness of the spare hairs before his tongue traced lower.

"Oh yes," Cooper hissed and pulled his legs back. This is something that took a lot of persuading to get his father to do, but the teen had seen it a lot in porn videos. Now the father was as much into rimming as Cooper, especially because it was a sign that they had time to go long. Like now.

Brian pulled the strong buns apart and dove in. Fluttering with his tongue, he realized this was like eating pussy, only better. Because this was Coop. His boy. His pride and joy. A young man seemingly made for sex, put on earth to make Brian Murray feel like a real sex stud himself.

Coop's whimpers only drove Brian to go wild, varying pace and tonguework. The father was rock hard now and growing impatient to fuck.

"You're still loose from yesterday," he observed once he'd leaned up and applied the first of the vaseline to Cooper's pucker, which indeed was more elastic and relaxed.

The tight end's eyes met his dad's in a horny plea. Part of him wish Dad would just mount him. "Yeah," he nodded. "You're really thick, Dad."

Brian got a cocky grin and took a second to slather petroleum jelly onto his fat meat. "You say it like you prefer it that way," he added. He now smeared some lube on Cooper's dick. One of these days he'd make a session about his son's meat, jerking or sucking his boy off, maybe a couple times in a row. For now, both men needed it the other way around.

Coop got quiet all of a sudden, then as Brian placed those strong calves on his shoulders, the jock replied, "I don't know... I like the sensation of being taken... Like, really taken."

"Jesus, Coop," Brian grunted.

The footballer blushed. "Did I say the wrong thing, Dad?"

Brian Murray shook his head no. "Hardly. But fuck... You're a horny young dude, you know that?"

It was a rhetorical question, but Cooper answered. "I know."

Brian reached down and Cooper loved watching the way his dad's beefy chest and arm muscle bunched up at the action. Then the athlete felt the sticky cock nudge his entrance. He was expecting Dad to tease the hole and work him open. Instead, Brian forced a good solid inch right in.

"FUCK!!" Cooper gasped.

Concern swept over Brian's face. "You OK, buddy?" he asked nervously. "You said..."

Cooper nodded. "It's hot as fuck, Dad. Just give me a second, OK?"

Brian nodded and just enjoyed the moment. His hot muscular 18-year-old son beneath him, Cooper's guts hot and alive wrapped around the father's meat. The nastiness of this whole situation, fucking his own boy in this house from his work.

The second he felt the vice grip give way to just a normal snugness, Brian took the iniative to plow in. All the way in. Coop was taking it, not saying no, not wincing, just his strong fingers gripping Brian's forearms as the dad penetrated deeper until bottoming out.

"Oh fuck, kid... I love ya."

"Love you too Dad," Cooper said back at full volume. "Love when you fuck me."

Brian pulled his hips back and powered in. And again. Fucking his only son with a combination of love and need. The position with Coop's legs on his shoulder kept them from kissing - the kid wasn't flexible like that - but their eyes locked as the father found a steady rhythm and as Cooper began to jerk his meat in time.

"Fuck me, Dad," Cooper urged. His eyes took in every bit of his father's naked body that he could see from the bottom position. "God, you're so fucking hot."

Brian was going crazy. "Coming from you, Coop... you're fucking perfection."

The pace grew, slowly at first, then faster. Brian's thrusts grew firmer and when he saw Coop could take it, he fucked with hard jabs. Over and over.

The kid was getting his orgasm face. A spurt of precum onto that eight pack was accompanied by a whimper. "DAD!" Coop hissed.

"Let it out, buddy. Let it all out of your dad," Brian urged.

It was a simultaneous cum this time, but it was just as good. Cooper's body growing tense and hard as he fired a healthy teen load onto his belly and chest, then Brian's growl and the slickness of his cock as the copious jets of precum frothed up with the vaseline just before the dad blew inside his boy. Hard.

"Oh god," Brian whimpered as he finally regained consciousness. He eased Cooper's legs off and saw that his son had a dazed expression himself. "You OK Coop?" he asked.

The son nodded. "More than OK, Dad.... Wow."

Brian lay next to Cooper's cum wet and sweaty body. There really wasn't room on the mattress for both of them, but the small size made their bodies press against one another. They kissed once more.

The Murray men were so lost in their make out session that they didn't hear the door open or the footsteps. "Like minds..." came a bellowing voice. "Why I'm not surprised you wanted to use the fuckpad Murray!"

Cooper recognized the man as Pete Maher, an electrician who often did work for Coop's father. He was older than Cooper's dad by about a decade, the thinning hair gone silver, and the tradesman had an every burlier build with massive arms and a big beer gut that stretched out his long-sleeve T-shirt now.

Brian blushed. He and Pete had talked about their shared incestuous interests, but to be caught like this. "Hi Pete... Coop and I were just...."

"I know what you two lovebirds were doing," Pete laughed. He had a loud voice, obnoxious even, but something about the man captivated Cooper. Just then the athlete saw a young man step into the room.

"I double checked the door, Dad," he said.

"Murray, I believe you know Junior."

"Hi Peter," Brian said leaning up. He felt exposed as hell in his nakedness, on this blow up mattress no less, but he figured what the hell. Pete and his kid were here for the same thing. "Kid" - Peter Maher Jr was a college senior now and while he didn't have Cooper's big muscle he was cute as hell. Brian reached his hand up for a handshake. "College treating you well?"

"Can't complain, Mr. Murray," Junior said.

Brian nodded his head toward Cooper. "This is my son, Cooper."

"Hey," the jock said, bumping fists with the college bro. His initial shock was abating now that he was following his dad's lead. Clearly the old man had talked to Pete about this, though the intrusion itself seemed unplanned.

Pete was untucking his shirt. "Hope you don't mind if Junior and I make sure of the fuck pad too," he said. He seemed to be talking to Brian, but his eyes were squarely on Cooper and that amazing athletic body. "You fellas can stay and watch if that's your jollies." The man kicked off his shoes and undid his jeans. "Junior's not the romantic type, are ya, Junior."

"No," Pete Jr laughed as he stripped off his fraternity shirt and undid his own jeans. He had the build of a college kid who hit the gym and did pick up games but nothing overly serious.

Cooper started to pick up his discarded workout clothing but Brian nudged his arm enough to stop him in his tracks. A silent nod told the story. The Murray men would watch.

Brian's eyes were taking in Junior's toned collegiate body as the guy got onto the mattress on all fours while Pete plopped down a tube of lubricant he'd brought.

"You fellas go for the cheap stuff," he laughed as he pumped a good amount of slickness in to his palm then lubed up his boner.

Cooper was fixated on that cock. It was shorter, maybe 5.5. inches and fat as fuck. Pure firehose cock. He winced as little as he saw Pete kneel behind Junior and wedge that dong right into the guy's hole. But Junior just gave a soft exhale then nodded for his dad to go ahead.

Pete didn't fuck with finesse. The man probably didn't know finesse. He just held Junior's hips and pounded his son doggy. That belly sticking out and the meaty ass clenching in rhythm. "Damn, son..." he hissed.

Junior was blushing and maybe biting his lip to take the onslaught. But Brian could see the kid's own fireplug dick hard below his belly.

"Daddy's not gonna take long, son," Pete announced. He wasn't cumming yet, but Cooper watched in excitement as Pete fucked for his own pleasure. While the jock's cock had gone down some it was filling out again, growing fully hard.

"Breed me, Dad," Junior begged. "Let those guys see..."

Pete was uncharacteristically quiet as he got his nut. His face reddened and he gave a silent nod as his beefy body went into overdrive. He used his strong arms as much as his hips now, pulling Junior's body onto his cock fully with each thrust.

"NNNGMFF!" he grunted as he gave it up. His body seized and paused, then he gave a light slap to Junior's bare ass. "You get off, son?" Pete finally asked quietly.

"No Dad," came the equally quiet reply.

Cooper wondered how long they'd been fooling around together. For sure they had a well-practiced routine as Pete slid back and then lay belly down onto the mattress. Junior lubed his own dick up and then crawled onto of his dad's shorter, stockier frame.

"OOF!" Pete hissed at penetration. Junior had a fat piece, too, one not easy to take.

But Pete was taking it. Bracing his hands on the floor and letting his son hump steadily inside him. Fucking him. Going for his own cum inside his dad.

Cooper had never imagined fucking his dad. It just didn't seem right. Even standing there with Brian's arm on his shoulder, he was happy with everything his dad and he did. Still, he loved watching Junior dick that gray-haired daddy. Particularly when the college dude's whole body got into, writhing and deeply penetrating his father with intense need.

"Cumming Dad!" Junior announced.

"Get it, boy! Get it inside your daddy!"

Pete Maher was one intensely sexual man. And Cooper realized how sexual when Junior finally climbed off, his dick wet with cum and lube and looked down proudly at the man he'd just fucked. Pete for his part didn't get up but just turned his head toward Cooper. "Want a turn, kid?" he asked. "If it's OK with your dad that is."

Brian patted Cooper's bare ass, telling him it was ok. He sensed how much Coop wanted this.

"You sure?" Cooper asked his father quietly.

"Go on," the father replied.

Brian watched Cooper get into place, where Junior had been. As his son began to reach for the lube, Pete chuckled.

"You don't need any, kid. I'm wet as a whore down there now."

Cooper blushed but was excited. He'd been the one bringing the naughty ideas to sex with Dad but here was this man who put the jock's porn-addled brain to shame. Indeed as he entered Pete, the dad hole was sloppy loose and very wet. And even wetter as Cooper plowed deeper.

"Yes... you're a big boy already.... get up deep in that Daddy ass."

Junior's gaze went from the fucking in front of them to Brian. The stud contracter with the gym-fit bod and the long dick.

"Want me to suck you, Mr. Murray?" he asked Brian quietly.

Brian thought for a second. It would be hot to have the Maher kid suck him off while he watched Coop have his jollies. But one on one time with Coop was precious.

"Sounds hot," he whispered back. "But I want inside Coop again."

Junior nodded and laughed. "Can't blame you," he said.

Brian stuck with the vaseline, reapplying it to his now hard prick. The second he got behind Cooper, his son knew what was going on. "You going in, Dad?" he asked.

"Fuck yes," Pete growled. "Give the kid the sandwich treatment."

Brian already was. Coop's hole was real relaxed now and that dad dick slid in easily. The only challenge was finding a way to balance on top of Cooper without crushing down on both men.

Then it was off to the races. Cooper did the work, fucking steadily into Pete while his own ass sang from being filled with his dad.

"I'm coming, Pete," the jock announced.

The clenching of Coop's hole almost brought Brian off, but not quite. He was still rock hard as they all uncoupled.

"I told you this was a great idea, Murray," Pete said as he put his clothes back on. Apparently Junior had already dressed and gone down to the car. "Coach Kennedy brings his favorite players here after a game."

Cooper now was jealous of the baseball players, though truth told he wasn't sure how much he wanted outside of the sex he had with his dad. Fucking Pete had been an unexpected thrill, but he saw his dad's own quiet expression now and wondered if it was a good idea.

"Christ, Pete," Brian said as he sat down on the mattress. "Can't have him finding out about me and Coop."

Pete gave it a second of thought. "We'll come up with a schedule or something. Come on, Murray, you wanted more time with your boy, and you got a place now. Chill out some."

Brian grunted but replied. "I guess."

Pete flashed a contrite look but then added, "Junior's waiting.. but I'll see you Monday, Murray?"

"Yep."

Cooper sat next to his father, leaning against the man's naked body and placing an arm around Brian. "Sorry if I got out of control Dad."

Brian shook his head. "Your first threesome," he observed in a "my kid is growing up" tone. "You have fun?"

Cooper nodded with a grin. Then, "how long has Pete known about us?"

"A couple of weeks," Brian replied. "He saw a picture on my phone that I should have deleted."

"Oh," the jock said.

"A lesson to be more careful."

"Yeah, for sure," Cooper said. "But Dad..."

"Yeah, buddy?"

"I'm glad we're not too careful, you know?"

Brian smiled and met Coop in a soft kiss. "Me too, kiddo." And with a gentle strength he pulled his naked son back into a reclining position on the mattress with its damp, crumpled bed sheet, which smelled of sex and sweat and plastic.

[dairy-farmer]

Have another long and incredibly convoluted idea (are you getting tired of all the back story I always yet?)

I remember hearing once, a long ago (honestly, I could be remembering completely wrong/it could have been a weird dream I had one time/ it could have been one of those weird racist propaganda things) about a culture that, in order to keep women safe from evil spirits, required them to be 'married' their whole lives. When a baby girl was born, a male relative or close friend would be 'married' to the girl. In practice it's more like being an uncle figure or godparent, and when the woman is grown and finds someone they want to actually marry, the original 'marriage' is dissolved.

Another thing I remember hearing, which I am much more certain is real somewhere, is that third marriages were considered very unlucky, so if a woman wanted to marry a third time (remember, for much of human history it wasn't surprising for someone's spouse to die on them and then have to remarry) she would marry a tree, and then the tree would be cut down and burned, taking the bad luck with it and letting her marry a fourth time.

So I'm going to mix those two to make something new and interesting! While women are considered to be at risk to evil spirits if unmarried, they're considered safe until their first period. And society and science have moved on enough that it's treated more like a ceremonial thing than an actual real concern, so 'marrying' inanimate objects and such and then destroying them when you get married to a real person is generally how it works now. Well, the dead also count for this safety marriage thing; generally you just make a statement along the lines of "death has now parted my husband and I" at the beginning of your wedding ceremony to an actual living person.

I'm sure you can see where I'm going with this 😘.

Tim gets his first period shortly after becoming Robin, and even though he's not a girl and the whole marrying thing is generally seen as old fashioned superstition and no one's really judged for ignoring it, considering all the weird stuff superheroes run into, Bruce and Tim decide the safest thing is for him to get 'married'. He considered marrying an action figure or a photo or even a tree, but honestly? He had a huge crush on Jason before he died, and you don't actually need permission to marry a dead person for this kind of thing (nuns for example are all married to Jesus, and there was a fad during the Cold War to marry your pubescent daughters to one of the founding fathers. Still, it's generally considered good manners to ask, if they have close living relatives.)

So of course, Tim asks to marry Jason. Bruce considers saying no, but he remembers Jason gushing about his favorite regency romance novels and how he wanted to get married someday, and agrees. It's a very small private ceremony, with a tiny announcement in the paper, as is customary.

Obviously Jason comes back and is planning his revenge and an epic beat down for his replacement. However, while doing some final recon to make sure all the information Talia gave him was correct, he comes across the announcement of his 'marriage' to Tim Drake. And suddenly Jason is filled with a lot of hard to identify feelings. It also throws a wrench in his plan, because he promised himself that he would never become like Willis and would never raise a hand to his wife. Sure, it was more of a formality and no one expected him to come back to life, but Tim was still technically his wife!

He also discovered that Talia was not completely truthful with him, either leaving out things completely or twisting the truth - she had told him Bruce didn't do anything to the Joker, but it turns out Superman had had to physically stop Batman from killing the bastard clown; and even then only because to prevent a bizarre international political incident (WHAT???). It's annoying that Bruce never tried again, but at least it looks like he did try. And then Jason has a brilliant idea.

A few weeks later Tim comes home from school to find Jason Todd, alive and kicking, cooking dinner in the Drake Manor kitchen. Obviously Tim is thrown for a loop and bombards Jason with questions, not really pausing for answers. Jason just finishes up dinner while Tim babbles and theorizes, and realizes he finds it kind of cute.

Finally Jason just grabs a hold of Tim, pulls him close, and kisses him deeply, shutting Tim up. Tim is stunned for nearly a whole minute after the kiss ends, before he turns bright red and asks why Jason did that?!😳

"Well," Jason drawls, crowding Tim against a wall " why shouldn't I kiss my cute little wife?" Tim ends up very distracted for a while but eventually gets back to his questions.

Turns out Jason's brilliant new plan? He's still gonna be the Red Hood and permanently deal with those who really need to be dealt with, but instead of a big blow up confrontation with Bruce? Jason is just gonna shack up with his cute little wife and completely refuse to acknowledge him. And not in a 'Bruce will never know I came back' way. No no no 😈!

He's going to make a big show about being alive again, announce it to the world and spin some story about having actually been kidnapped instead of murdered, do all of the blood tests and stuff to prove his identity etc etc. Reconnect with Alfred and Dick, meet his new sister Cass, enroll in school, and all that jazz.

But he will completely ignore Bruce's existence.

Won't look at him, won't speak to him - doesn't matter if they're in the same room, he just pretends Bruce doesn't exist. He teams up with his sweet wifey and Batman happens to be there? Poor Tim has to repeat everything Bruce says so Jason will acknowledge it (Jason never has anything to say back to Bruce).

Bruce is losing his goddamn mind. His son is literally right there!!! Alive and healthy and not that insane or vengeful! But Jason will not acknowledge him! He even turned a blind eye when Joker washed up in the harbor dead, with a single bullet hole right between his eyes. But still nothing 😭! At this point he would have preferred being shouted at and shot at!

Don't worry, Jason plans to start acknowledging Bruce again eventually... It just might not be until after he and Tim have some cute babies, and he's not in any rush for that 😘.

~❤️🦇

bruce going insane with jason right there but refusing to speak or interact with him while jason is very much into being a married man and spending tim with his new little wife 💖💖💖!!!!!

[mslovingghost]

Fat Gum x Reader

He doesn’t feel desired because of his body. Fatgum x Reader

Taishiro had been navigating the dating scene for a while, and after countless dates, he reached a conclusion: people only liked his skinny form. At first, they acted as if it didn’t bother them, but eventually, it did. Each time, he found himself alone again, scrolling through various dating apps out of desperation. Was it so unreasonable to want to settle down with someone who appreciated all parts of him?

It wasn't long before he found you. You were the first person to swipe right on him without inquiring about his hero work. Instead, you asked about the dog in the background of one of his photos – his golden retriever named Oden, whom he got to keep him company. From that moment, his conversations with you lasted for hours, culminating in an agreement for your first date. Fatgum wanted it to be special because you were becoming special to him.

The details were set. On his day off, he would come to your place, and the two of you would have dinner away from the prying eyes of paparazzi. However, as the day approached, he grew anxious about whether you would expect him to change into his skinny form, as all his previous dates had asked. By the time he stood in front of your door, he felt nauseous from the swirling ideas in his head. But when your face greeted him, he almost calmed down, captivated by how beautiful you looked in casual attire.

He was nearly mesmerized by you until he snapped back to reality. “Are you sure you don’t mind me like this? I can change back into my other form—” he muttered, letting his insecurities spill out until you cut him off. You laughed, looking at him as if he were joking. “What are you talking about? I hope I didn’t make all this food for you if you were planning on being skinny for the evening...”

As you ushered him inside, confusion spread across his face. You laughed at the mere suggestion that he change into his skinny form to make you comfortable. And from the looks of your dining table, it was clear you had spent a lot of time preparing various dishes to satisfy his appetite.

You were perfect for him. It was astonishing to see the care you put into the meals laid out before him. He had never had a proper date who wanted him to be himself, rather than an idealized version they had created in their minds. He sat down across from you with a goofy grin and one thought in mind – you were truly perfect.

I wrote this one go like it was fever dream- If it's not perfect or good that's why. I was inspired by a cai bot tho <3

[aerkan]

Okay, so, I'm feeling a bit melancholic right now and I, well, I guess I want to share my thoughts in case someone relates or needs to know they're not alone.

I've figured out a few years back that I'm firmly set in the aroace spectrum. I've never had a crush on anyone except for some fictional characters or famous people, but even then the farthest my 'affections' have gotten was a strong urge to offer them a hug, or wanting to hang out and laugh. Which I very quickly found out was the exact same as for my closest friends, just magnified by my excitement of the stories tied to those characters or my joy at hearing the person's jokes.

I've never been interested in sex. At all. I don't like reading about it, I get bored watching it, and the prospect of experiencing it fills me with nothing other than dread and annoyance. That's not to say I'm ignorant about it. I'm not. I know how it works, I know what 'my role' would be should I ever try it. But while all my friends were experimenting with it during our teens I stayed far away from the dating pool. Mostly.

I had my first kiss when I was 17. I felt weird right after because I've read a lot of romantic stories (looking back on it, it wasn't for the romance itself but the emotional closeness between the characters but whatever) and first kisses were meant to be something one should enjoy. Even my friends have said so. However, I felt nothing, only bored. It was my first kiss and I wished I could do something more fun.

So yeah, that didn't click and I spent the whole evening reasearching what the hell was wrong with me (turns out, there was nothing wrong with me). That's how the idea of me being ace took root but I wasn't very sure about it (didn't want to be).

Since then there have been a few more kisses, but nothing to be writing home about. I guess I've been trying to see if anything changed. It didn't. Gradually I had to admit to myself that I'm ace and what that means for me. After the initial shock of the new label I very quickly became comfortable being ace. It fit me and I was happy.

However, well, lately most my friends have started dating. Finding their life partners. My new friends already had lovers, when I met them or are also finding love. And I'm excited for them, really am. But this new development made me confront another part of my identity, which I've been steadily ignoring for years now despite knowing it wasn't exactly the norm.

I'm aromantic! (*throwing confetti*)

I've never experienced romantic love and probably never will. I adore my friends, they are the most important people in my life and I would do a lot of f*cked up things for them to be happy. And for the most part I'm okay with just hanging out with my classmates and seeing my other friends from time to time, making plans to see each other more when we're all free. But I also feel unbearably lonely sometimes. I feel unwanted, ignored and left out simply because I can't offer the same 'normal' conversations. I feel disconnected from society and I desperately long for a partner that would love me, that I could talk to every day, that I could hug and laugh with. Someone, who would be there when I get home, maybe waiting with a good meal or excited to tell me about the new tv show they started watching while I was gone.

Basically, what I'm saying is... I want a roomate. I want someone to live with me but someone who sleeps in a different bed. Someone who would let me cuddle them from time to time when life gets a bit harder than I can bear and someone who would be there when I need a laugh. Someone I can cook with or sing with. I want a friend living with me who wouldn't have that 'special someone'. I want someone who would want the same from me.

And the hardest part about this? Knowing I'm probably never going to have that. These days I live with this terrifying certainty I'm going to die alone and well... I already feel crushingly lonely right now. I can't imagine feeling like this for the rest of my life.

...well, this got really depressing. Wasn't the point, but it is the truth. I love being aroace, I love the warm little feeling I get when I make someone happy or the giddy butterflies in my chest when I make someone laugh. Ultimately, I love being alive to be excited about sharing a smile with a stranger. I would simply prefer if so many of my nights weren't filled with the existentinal dread of being left behind.

Sorry for the ramble guys, have a cute pokemon cause you're awesome!

[passionwillow]

You Aren't Leaving My Sight Anymore

Hello loves. ☺️ I had a request for a reader going into anaphylactic shock with either Street or Deacon in it. I have so much love for Deacon, so he'll be our guy today. Thank you all for the requests! Sorry if this is a little short.

Warnings: Allergic reaction, angst? I think. Just a lot of worrying and fluff and panic.

You scanned your badge at the entrance of S.W.A.T HQ and walked through the door, smiling and waving to familiar faces on your way. Your boots thumped steadily on the floor as you made your way to your desk, setting your bag down and taking a seat behind the black counter.

You'd started working here three years ago, filing reports and taking care of the paperwork trail cases like these required. Everyone welcomed you with open arms, even people from the SWAT teams taking the time to stop by and greet you. That was how you met David "Deacon" Kay.

Deac had stopped by on your second day to welcome you, and you guys spent the next hour talking like you knew each other for years. It wasn't long before you guys had a first date, then a second, then you were dating.

You got to meet his kids and they absolutely loved you. It was a year later you moved in, and you'd been together almost 3 years now and everything had been perfect.

You logged into your computer and answered a few emails, texting back and forth with Deac about dinner and date plans you guys had. You looked up as Chris approached, smiling and handing you a white paper bag. "Cinnamon raisin bagel, extra cream cheese" You took the bag with a grin and shook your head, humming happily as you opened it.

"Thanks, Chris. Be safe today, okay?" Chris nodded and waved as she walked off further into the building, and you picked off pieces of the warm bagel with as you worked through emails. You and Chris had hit it off as good friends soon after you were hired, and she loved watching the kids when you and Deacon had dates. You were always taking turns grabbing breakfast for each other during the week.

You turned in your chair to grab some paperwork from your filing cabinet, when you noticed it was getting a little harder to breathe. You coughed and cleared your throat, but the tightness in your throat increased and your heart started to race as you grabbed at your throat, breath wheezing.

Donovan Rocker buzzed in and walked into the building, nodding to a few people and approaching your desk with a smile, steps faltering as you saw your red, blotchy skin and the fear in your eyes. "Hey, Y/N? You alright?" You clawed at your throat and the panic set it completely, body trembling as you slipped from the chair and fell to the floor. "Shit- Help! Anyone, get the doctor!"

Donovan's bag dropped to the floor as he yelled at everyone nearby, rushing around the desk and grabbing a hold of you, hands cupping your face. "Hey, just try to breathe, okay? Relax, help is coming." His eyes looked over you in a rush, trying to find any reason for your current state. Your face was going blue and he knew he were really struggling to get any air.

His head whipped towards you desk, eyes falling on the bagel sitting on the white napkin. "Shit." He breathed out softly, and jumped back up, running around to his duffle bag and searching through it, pulling out an epi-pen.

He stood and started back to you when Deacon came running around the corner, brown eyes wide with fear. "Where is she? What's wrong?" Rocker said nothing as he ran back to you, Deacon following and crouching down, hands on your face. "Baby? Can you hear me? Come on - stay with me, we got you."

Rocker popped the cap on the epi-pen and didn't hesitate as he drove it in your leg, injecting you and whispering. "Come on, please work." The tightness in your chest eased, the relief spreading to your throat as you inhaled sharply, Deacon's eyes wide as he brushed your hair back, gathering you up and holding you to his chest.

"Christ, Y/N, what happened?" You gathered your breath and held to Deacon's blue jacket, voice raspy and weak. "I don't.. I don't know. I was eating and then-.. then I couldn't breathe." Rocker watched you both with relief, shoulders sagging. "It was an allergy. You had a really bad reaction." Deacon looked at him and swallowed hard, nodding a quiet thank you as he pulled you further into his chest, whispering. "We need to get you to the hospital. Make sure you're already.

You looked up at Deacon and nodded, pressing a kiss to his cheek and sitting up a little. "I can take myself, you shouldn't miss work." Deacon stood and pulled you with him, supporting you and shaking his head. "Like hell you are. I'm not letting you out of my sight anymore."

You cracked a smile and held onto him, legs still shaky and weak as you nodded and looked at Rocker. "Can you tell Chris this wasn't her fault? I'm sure she feels like hell.. And thank you for saving me." Rocker smiled and nodded as he gathered his bag, eyes twinkling with amusement. "Anytime, Y/L/N."

Deacon watched the other man leave and snorted, looking at you and cupping your cheek. "Do you know what that just did for his ego?" You leaned into his touch and laughed, hugging him close and mumbling. "That's what I get for eating a damn bagel."

[theoseong]

Theo parted his lips to say, "I reckon," which was a phrase he never used before, but stopped short before saying anything. He didn't want to be a downer, but he also didn't want to lie to Daniel and make false promises. He just knew the Astrea family pretty well by now, and they were...complicated. He met Ryder when he was only eighteen and beyond shy--until someone mentioned High School Musical. Even then, he'd curl in on himself when he talked about it, like he was ashamed. It was almost impossible to picture him becoming a smuggler one day, so Theo wasn't that surprised when he joined the crew and found out Ryder didn't work in a combat position. The medic part was strange though.

After Robin told Theo about the exam, it all made a lot more sense--why they were both still on this ship. Robin felt like he had to overcompensate to take the attention off Ryder, and Ryder was so traumatized from failing the exam, he felt like he had to stick with Alisz's plan. Unless Ryder could put his own dreams over his mom's, Theo couldn't really see him leaving. "I've known the twins for a long time, and you've met their mom..." Theo trailed off, not entirely sure where he was going with this. "It wouldn't be easy for him to leave smuggling, but give him time. Going against a parent is hard." Theo knew it well, and he was a harsh reminder that parent's didn't support their children unconditionally.

Daniel nodded slightly; Theo's explanation made sense. It would have been much more challenging to make it work if they'd just been kids the first time. That made him think back on his first boyfriend, just for a moment - though he quickly discarded the thought. "You reckon?" he asked. To both of the conclusions Theo had reached - that they'd be fine, and that they'd probably end up in the same place again eventually - but mainly that latter one. Ryder seemed pretty set on staying in smuggling, and Daniel couldn't really see himself coming back to this unless he again found himself in a position where he had to choose between making a living and pursuing his passion. The whole point in taking this job had been to save up enough money that he wouldn't have to make that choice again for a long time, so...

[smokin-salmon]

HAPPY (very, very late) BIRTHDAY MIRABELLE!!

[schnaf]

22 days until hyeongjun's 22nd birthday

day 22 aka THE COUNTDOWN IS OVER - hyeongjun's past birthday brrrr ppoppos

bonus: 🤫

[books-are-my-life-stuff]

Finished series, Fall 2023: Akuma-kun (2023)

"What is happiness to all humans? Are they happy if there's ample food, clothing, and shelter? Do they want self-fulfillment? Recognition from others? The psychologist Maslow said--" "Hold on. Hey, Ichiro. What is happiness to you?" "To me?"

[pjowasmy1stfandom]

Ooh, yess, he definitely wants control of the narrative, because if he's controlling it, then he's safer. He can anticipate how others react better. That's part of why he's so scared of Phil, because Phil tends to suppress his knee-jerk reactions and TECHNO CAN'T USE THAT

Yeah, I never really thought about drawing the Piglins beyond their silhouettes, just because they're more dark figures in Techno's mind after he cuts ties with them

Exactly!! Plus, it looks cool, so win-win for everybody!!!

I love it when other people make up symbolism for me! I also love it when my brain makes up symbolism in something I originally kinda took for granted and then sucker punches me with the symbolism and makes me stop and just go '... OH'

Yeah, it really is easier with the minimal pallette. I don't usually animate either, but the drawing program I use technically is an animation program. I just used it for its intended purpose this one time, haha. But yeah, it made it easier because usually with my art, I spend at least as much time on colors and contrast as I do line art, if not more. So by cutting out the colors (aside from the red and pink, which I'd had planned from the beginning), I was able to cut down on a lot of agonizing and rethinking. Plus I was also nicer to myself and whenever I got frustrated with a slide, I just moved on and came back later and surprise surprise, it wasn't actually that bad, I was just overthinking it. And yeah, coloring would've taken a long time if I'd colored this. There are 210 frames in the animation, with 4 frames per second. Thankfully a bunch of them are copy-pasted bc I wanted some moments to last longer than a quarter of a second, and a bunch others are blank to allow for dramatic pauses or transitions or whatnot, but still. That's a lot. I'm actually really impressed with myself

Again, thanks for the compliments, they're awesome 😁

@nomsfaultau Here it is!! Voices In My Head, one of the songs that has joined my MFR playlist

I'm actually incredibly proud of this. I tried a new brush to try and combat my perfectionism and I think it worked, considering that this is done. I'm not super happy with some of the shots, but I think overall it looks alright!

Let me know what your favorite parts are!

[longagoitwastuesday]

I have learnt things about Geto that I wish I could unlearn

[tenok]

.

[artemisdesari-blog]

A writer friend told me something that broke my heart a little bit today; they're going to quit publishing their fanfic.

My instant thought was that they had been trolled or attacked or that something terrible had happened in their life because this person is so passionate about their writing. It wasn't any of that. Engagement with their works has been going down, as it has for many of us. Comments are like gold dust a lot of the time, and just looking through the historical comment counts on old fics on ao3 demonstrates this trend very clearly. It was not simply the comments dropping off which caused them to decide to stop posting, however.

My friend came across a discord server for their fandom (I should point out here that their fandom interest and mine diverged a couple of years ago, we stay in touch but don't currently read each other's posts because I'm not into their fandom and they would rather gouge their eyes out with a wooden spoon than read anything Star Wars) and specifically to share fic in that fandom. They joined, because we all love a good fic rec, only to discover that their latest multichapter fic, which has almost no comments and very few kudos, is being hotly discussed in this server as one of the best stories ever. Not one of these people has bothered to say this to them on the fic. When they asked, none of participants could see the point in telling the author of the fic they apparently loved so much that they love it.

This discovery has absolutely destroyed my friend's love of sharing fic. They share because they love seeing other people's enjoyment, and fic writers do that through comments and kudos/reblogs/likes because we don't get paid. There is no literary critic writing a blog post/article about how amazing the story is for us to copy and keep/frame. There is no money from royalties. All we have are the words of the people reading our works.

Those people on that server could have taken five minutes of the time they spent gushing about how amazing my friend's story was to other people and used it to tell the one person guaranteed to want to hear that praise how much they loved it. They could have taken a moment to express their opinion to the person who spent hours upon hours plotting, writing, editing, and posting those chapters. Instead, they deprived my friend of thing that keeps them sharing their writing, and in the process have killed their love of it. My friend now feels used and unmotivated.

I won't be sharing a link to their fic, they said I could share their experience but not their identity. I know they plan to post one final chapter. I know they intend to express their hurt at being excluded from the praise for the thing they created, and I know they intend to announce that as a consequence they will not be posting for a long while, if at all.

So please, I beg you, don't hide your love of a story from the writer. It's just about the only thing we have.

[nezuscribe]

it's that same summer when you're at the gojo summer estate, the one near the sea. you're still teens, long before gojo became arranged!gojo.

your last encounter with gojo was something you brushed off. but gojo couldn't stop thinking about you. you were this puzzle he didn't know how to figure out. this war map that no matter how long he looked at it, none of his past strategies were making sense.

but the two of you go about your usual routine. he's with his friends, and you stick to yourself.

or at least you tried to.

gojo's mother, the lady of the gojo family, was an earnest and strict woman. everybody knew that she wasn't one for games or jokes. she rarely smiled and rarely, rarely, laughed. you, along with all the other kids, knew to bow extra low whenever greeting her. she seemed to carry more power than her husband, but she didn't seem to find an issue with that.

but for a woman who was so keen on tradition, she seemed to care about you a lot more than the other children.

when she spoke to you, her eyes softened. her voice was gentler, more caring. your sisters especially grew annoyed at this, trying to butter up to her even more, but she seemed to harbor this sort of kindness only towards you.

you didn't question this either. it must be some form of pity, but you appreciated it nonetheless. sometimes you pretended like she was your actual mom, but then you quickly shook that thought away, chiding yourself for thinking something so childish.

this sort of gentleness she had with you turned into her trying to include you in things. some days it would be having tea with you when the other adults were having tea somewhere else, or sometimes she'd plan a little dinner with you where you could get dressed up and act like a lady.

tonight, however, she seemed to think that the best way she could include you was to include you in the group of the other kids, a gentle and guiding hand on your protesting back.

"really, i like the library," you insist, but it couldn't be farther from the truth. you had been inside the library for so many hours that you could blink and those high walls filled with books would be seared into your vision.

"nonsense," she tells you, her blue eyes and white hair looking down at your form as she waves it off, "the kids are outside near the fire. they'd be delighted to have you."

you cringe a little bit, wondering if she was just as daft as her son.

but she had found you near the fireplace, trying to stick its warmth as you hunched over yet another book. she decided that enough was enough, you should be out with the other kids.

so you couldn't say much to the woman who was hosting your family to argue, letting her lead you outside the grand patio and into the overbearing fields that led out to the sea, you soon saw the fire crackling away, the sound of laughter filling your ears.

some of the kids who were facing the two of you nudged the other ones to turn around, looks of confusion on their faces as the noblest lady of the land led a quivering you closer to them.

the usual look of caring she had whenever she was with you melted away, turning to something icy as the two of you neared the group. her hand on your back was still present, but you wished that it could somehow push you deep into the ground where you could hide forever.

her eyes looked over the group until they fell on her son, gojo, and narrowed.

everybody's eyes bounced from you over to her.

"there should be room for one more, yes?" she asks, and all the kids quickly nod, moving over on the logs that they had created into makeshift seats as they scrambled to make space for you.

you wondered what it was like to command such respect from people, what it must be like to have people actually listen to you.

she nudges you forward a little bit and you glance up at her one more time, a sort of useless plea as she encourages you to sit down.

you take a deep breath, offering them all an apologetic smile as you slowly sit on a log, your legs cramming together to make yourself seem as small as possible.

you watched as she walked back through the patio, talking to a maid as she motioned over to your group, saying something you couldn't make out, and you looked back to the other kids, the ones you had barely spoken a couple words to, and wince.

"sorry," you say slowly, your hands fidgeting non-stop in your lap as you laugh awkwardly, wishing you could just drop dead.

you can see your sisters seething in the corner, rolling their eyes as they sneer. the other kids nod at you just as tensely, and you wonder how disrespectful it would be if you just went back inside.

you feel a pair of eyes searing in the side of your face, and you look slightly to your right to see gojo staring at you, his eyes slightly squinting, just as his mother did.

you swallow thickly, picking at your nails as you send him a small smile before looking back down at your lap.

you could still feel him looking at you, but you chose to ignore it.

gojo doesn't really know why his mother liked you so much, but he never truly questioned her. she treated you with a tenderness he never saw her treat anybody (aside from him) with. he sometimes saw the two of you sharing tea with each other, other times hearing her laugh whenever you cracked a joke. something unusual for both of you.

his eyes look at your face, taking in the way you duck your head to seem smaller than you are. your eyes avert any contact, teeth gnawing on your already chewed-up lips. gojo looks at your hands, at the way you pick at your nails. he looks at your dress and sees the way the seams are fraying, the initial shape of the dress looking a little bit unfitting on you. almost as if it wasn't made for you specifically. his eyes narrow in more as he pieces it together. the dress is a hand-me-down from your older sister. not because your family couldn't afford a new dress, of course not, but to remind you of your place.

he feels a sting in his chest.

slowly the conversation with the group goes back to usual, the other kids pretending that you weren't there. gojo could feel the arms of one of the girls latched around his, her body pressing into his side as she tried to get closer to him. he wanted to shove her away, but didn't want to make a scene right now.

one of the girl shifted the talk to the topic of couples, talking about how she saw this husband and wife in town the other day who seemed to actually like each other.

one of your sisters, mei, snorts, shaking her head at the idea.

"us girls either marry an old man or a slightly older one," her eyes look over to you, "there's no in-between."

everybody grimaces at that, her other sister, yume, shoving her shoulder roughly at the crude statement.

"what?" mei scoffs, sitting back up as she nudges her chin to you, "she is."

yume gives her a warning look, one that's clearly saying she's saying too much, but mei doesn't seem to care much. everybody stirs, their heads craning with the thrill of gossip.

gojo looks at you and wants to see what you think about all this, but you're so far in your own world that you don't notice the commotion that seems to be directed at you.

mei calls your name, trying to grab your attention, and your head shoots up, brows furrowed to see who needs you.

"right?" she asks, knowing you don't know the answer.

you look around again, wondering if she was just trying to be funny.

"what?" you ask finally.

"you have to marry someone older, yeah?" mei presses, her eyes gleaming as your confusion melts away into one of embarrassment, looking at yume to see if mei was really serious.

of your two sisters, mei was always the mischievous one, if you could even call her cruelty that.

gojo sits up slightly, his brows scrunching up together a little bit at the mention of this. nobody had heard of any marriage offers, especially this early. you were still underage. who...?

you scratch at your neck, heat rising to your cheeks at the sudden attention on you.

"it was just an offer," you say through clenched teeth, shooting mei a look as she just smiles smugly. she knew she'd never have to deal with this.

"who?" one of the guys asks.

"nobody," you say quickly, waving it off as you rub a hand over your face, wondering if you threw yourself on the fire if that would help.

"naoya!" mei says instantly, your eyes widening as she reveals this very secret thing that even your father was trying to keep hushed away. you feel your stomach drop, eyes stinging in embarrassment as gasps echo around the group.

"isn't he...?" one of the girls tries to do the math, seeing how much older he already is.

"i heard he wants children," another girl adds, giving you a look of attempted sympathy but it just looks like a wince, "like, a lot of children."

you shut your eyes, rubbing at your aching forehead. you look briefly at gojo, only to see him looking incredulously at you. he's the only one who doesn't seem to be talking in a shocked or excited tone.

everybody gets excited about a terrible marriage offer when it's not them who have to offer themselves up.

he's studying you, seeming to be the only one who sees the way your chest is heaving, as if you're struggling to breathe. or the glossy look in your eyes, the way you dart them away so nobody can see. gojo looks over at mei, at the way she looks satisfied for delivering her piece of gossip for the night,

at your expense.

he doesn't know why he feels the way he does, or why he drags the girls arm away from him as he stands up, shrugging his coat over his frame as everybody suddenly looks at him.

but he's only looking at you.

"i forgot to give you your blanket from last week." he says simply, his voice heavy and coarse, as if he hadn't used it in a while, "come with me,"

well, he never said he was good at lying.

but he puts a steady arm on your shoulder, helping you stand up as you shoot him a confused look, letting him lead you away as the silence behind you becomes defeating.

you wipe at your nose, sniffling silently as he leads you through the grassy field.

he glances down at you. this is the second time the two of you have been alone, and the first time he's ever seen you on the verge of tears.

"thank you," you murmur thickly, rubbing at your eyes with your palms as you laugh wetly, "she wasn't supposed to say..." you trail off, looking away from him in embarrassment.

gojo guides you up the porch, behind a long marble pillar where the two of you are away from the other's curious stares.

he's never been good at comforting people, but he's never wanted to more than now.

"she's right, though," you say through a stutter, arms crossing at your chest as if that's what gojo was thinking about, "naoya, he-" you can't finish the sentence, the reality of it too heavy for you.

naoya proposed a month ago. a marriage offer for when you turn of age. he was desperate to find a wife, but not too many women were desperate to make him their husband. but your father needed the alliance, and your father's wife needed you away, so they swiftly agreed to it.

gojo's hand still hasn't left your shoulder, and he gives it a small squeeze.

"i'm sorry about this," you motion to yourself, laughing humorleslsy, "i didn't mean to...gods, i just...i don't want to be his w-wife," you admit quietly, shaking your head as you hide your face in your hands, "i-i don't want to have his children."

gojo feels bile rise to his throat at the thought of that.

he's only seen you twice. why does he care so much about what happens to you?

"somebody else will come along," he says in a whisper, and you look at him through your fingers, dropping them to your side as you blink slowly, rubbing at your cheeks.

"no good man wants to marry me," you tell him quietly, without any trace of pity for yourself, something that was simply the truth, "if not naoya, then another variant of him."

gojo leans down slightly to level with you, his lips pressed into a thin line.

you don't know why he's so close, or why he looks more worried for you than anybody else has. you shrug him off of you, trying to collect yourself as you peer through one of the large windows that look inside the estate.

"you can get rid of that blanket," you mutter, eyes darting from the window to his stunning blue ones, ones that make your knees slightly weak, "i was going to knit a new one anyways."

you bid your farewells, nodding lowly at him as you find your way inside.

gojo watches your back, looking back at the group as he runs a hand through his hair, gripping at his white locks in frustration.

he doesn't know what he's feeling. he doesn't know why he wants naoya suddenly dead. he doesn't know why he's not going to listen to what you just asked him to do, or why he wants to hold onto that blanket.

gojo doesn't know why you suddenly infiltrate his every waking moment, or why he needs to see naoya buried alive just so that you wouldn't have to marry him.

he doesn't know the answer to any of these things. but he doesn't know if he wants to.