#which in no way contains any actual dogs
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Wip Wednesday đ
I shared a small tidbit from this yesterday, but here's a little longer one this time đ
Eddie was holding a bag of M&Ms in one hand while twisting garlands around the railings by the stairs with the other. They were putting up the Christmas decorations around the station during a lull and while Eddie was all for the Christmas spirit, the garlands didn't seem too keen on cooperating.
âPass me one?â Buck walked up to him, both his arms tangled up in a big knot of Christmas lights and on the top of his head, pushing into his perfectly coiffed hair sat a frankly ridiculous hairband with a set of floppy white ears, decorated by big black blotches to resemble a dalmatian.
âWhat are you wearing?â Eddie frowned at the dog ear hanging down just beside his birthmark.
Buck looked up like he could see the top of his own head if he just tried hard enough. âMustâve been left here from Halloween. Cute, right?â
"Sure."
Well, it was cute.
That still didn't explain why he felt the need to put it on, but Eddie had more important things to worry about, namely the damned garland that kept on slipping off of the railing and bunching up on the bottom.
âSo, are you gonna give me one?â Buck tried again, eyeing the small bag of candy in Eddieâs hand.
âAsk nicely.â Eddie quipped, mainly just to be a little shit but as always, Buck was game.
He ducked his chin, jostling the dog ears on the top of his head and batted his eyelashes a little cartoonishly, then after an elongated whine of pretty please, he stuck his tongue out expectantly.
Eddie rolled his eyes and plopped a big green one onto Buckâs tongue. âHere.â
tags under the cut đ
I was tagged by the lovely @jamespearce9-1-1 @daffi-990 and @malewifediaz mwuah mwuah đ
âšand totally no pressure tagging: @spagheddiediaz @jeeyuns @ladydorian05 @disasterbuckdiaz @steadfastsaturnsrings @eowon @heartshapedvows @nmcggg @rainbow-nerdss @watchyourbuck @eddiebabygirldiaz @theotherbuckley @thewolvesof1998
#yes the third christmas fic is the puppy fic#which in no way contains any actual dogs#the premise of this fic is so ridiculous btw#and it's entirely based on a tumblr post I saw a few days ago#which instantly made me write 3k in one go#anyway it's gonna be cute and filthy#also I made the mistake of making a mood board for one of my other christmas fics so now I had to make one for each of them ugh#also also this specific pink is shooting up the list of my fave colours real quickly lmao#(my phonecase and my earphones are the same colour tbh so it's nothing new)#alright that's more than enough rambling uhh#buddie#911#wip#the puppy fic
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soap developing an unhealthy attachment to his therapist post his brush with death after being shot at point blank range. he was reluctant to see a therapist at first because he didn't like what it said about him that he was being more or less strong armed into seeing a shrink (like no one trusts him anymore; they don't think his head's on straight since being shot), but as time goes on, he grows to cherish the relationship he's cultivated with his therapist because,
well,
she understands him. she listens to him. where everyone else seems to want him to just hurry up and get better (the nightmares, the mid-sentence brain fog, the erratic mood swings, the silent brooding when he can't find the words, aphasia on the tip of his tongue, the constant, constant headaches and auditory hallucinations that he can't seem to kick), she doesn't put any pressure on him to heal right away. she works with him and his medical team; gives him the space to process what happened to him, and has a seemingly bottomless wealth of patience for him.
he can talk for hours in her presence. it's a shame their time together is limited to an hour and a half every week. the dulcet sound of her voice is such a comfort to him. it's a shame she politely but firmly rejects his advances when he finally asks her out, tells him that it wouldn't even be appropriate for them to be friends outside of his sessions. that it would in some way hinder his healing journey. which pisses him off because Soap has progressed in leaps and bounds since those early days when he used to stumble over his words sitting on the couch across from her, head in his hands when the language felt beyond his grasp, a fine tremor still running through his hands that he's since managed to contain,
and
his head is throbbing again. a sharp pain above his eye that pulsates like a drum in his head and -
he thinks about her constantly. in and out of sessions. she's a frequent topic of conversation when the brass finally lets him back out in the field, Makarov finally dealt with (resting six feet deep in an unmarked grave). he ignores the looks oscillating between concern and worry that Price gives him. ignores the way Ghost barks at him to quit bothering the bird in the tight skirt and fuck someone that won't get him discharged. ignores the way Gaz pulls him to the side to ask if maybe he needs to see another therapist, y'know, mate...get some distance.
they act like this is something new. an abberation and not his very nature. like he hasn't always been the type to lock onto a scent like a hunting dog. a sniper by training. he sits and he watches and he waits; waits for the right moment that he alone knows.
it comes to him on an inauspicious day, when he's leaving the training facilities and spots his sweet thing rummaging around in the boot of her car, her ass beckoning him forward like a siren's call. now, now, now, the little itch in his head says, the voice that knows when the time is right. it's a sense acquired through conscious and unconscious observation, letting it all filter into his frontal cortex until he knows without knowing that the parking lot is empty apart from the two of them and the men at the base gates half a mile away.
it would take nothing for him to come up behind her and push her into the boot. nothing to wrestle the purse from her hands and slam the trunk shut. nothing to drive off base with a flick of his fingers to the guards that hardly ever bother to question him before he leaves (though they know what car he actually drives), made complacent by familiarity.
and he knows that it's wrong, knows that there's a line that he shouldn't cross, that choices have consequences, but,
his mouth salivates when her hips twitch, the urge to take settling over him. surely they'd forgive him one indiscretion.
#btw i know fuck all about therapy so dont come for me if i got smt wrong#ive been in the past but its been like a decade since i had a therapist#soap x reader#soap/reader#ceil writing
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HOW WOULD DRY HUMPING WITH UR OCS BE LIKE? LIKE WHOS MORE DESPRATE THAN THE OTHER WHO STARTED IT YK LIKE " U FELL FIRST HE FELL HARDER " BUT WITH DRY HUMPING LIKE IS READER THE ONE THATS IMPATIENT OR THEM ? IF SO WHICH WAY WOULD IT BE WITH EACH OC
wait this lowke don't make sense âIM SORRY I TRIEDđ
LIKE WHOS DESPRATE U OR HIM
-đanon
back from the dead đđ
glad you asked ! ( sorry this took so long I lowkey left this in my drafts TT )
Adrien would surely be the more desperate one. He's always been a little crazy when it comes to you. Actual sex was hard since there's always been people surrounding them , so at any given moment Adrien would find a chance to grind up against you. It would be in the middle of class during an activity where he's standing nonchalantly behind you, rubbing himself up against your ass, no one could see what was happening behind you. Or it would be at home where he's idly humping your leg like a dog, trying to get your attention if you're on your phone.
Vallen wouldn't be the desperate one or at least it would be rare for him to be. It would be a quiet night except for the soft tapping of keys on Vallen's keyboard. He's busy alot of the time, seeing as he was the CEO of a greatly known company. Lifting his chin up, he could see you slowly make your way to his chair, a cute pout on your face. "What is it?" He would chuckle softly, patting his thigh as an invitation. It's been practically a week without any action, Vallen could scarily contain his desires for ages. He wouldn't even bother giving into your whines and pleads, letting you pathetically hump his thigh, chasing any sort of friction. Truly a cruel man!
Cole would definitely be desperate. When cuddling, you as the little spoon, Cole would find a way to instinctively rub his hips against your back before mumbling a small apology and turning the other way in shame. He can't help it but he feels so embarrassed by it! Everytime he sees you out and about, all prettied up for your shows, he can't help the heat that pools between his legs or those butterflies that violently swivel around in his stomach. He finds himself clinging to your body, grinding against you like a dog in heat. He's extremely patient though, if you don't seem like you want it too, Cole would eventually just opt for cuddling â that served as his pleasure anways.
Callahan surprisingly (or not) would be the more desperate one. After work, after he undoes his tie and slings his coat off, he goes straight to you, placing himself right ontop of you like a big, brown bear. Callahan's body basically blanket's you, and his weight is enough to pull complaints from your lips, but he doesn't care. He shifts you slightly to turn onto your stomach and his large forearms cage your head in. He's pressing you down with his weight, roughly grinding into you through his work trousers. But he gets impatient, its been a long day at work and all he wants is his bratty little boyfriend clawing at his shoulders and tears staining the pillowcase. You can probably tell what happens after.
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Reader sits on their face and breaks their neck - 141, Los Vaqueros + König
requested by @daniel-meyer-03 contains sexual content (obvs), minors dni
Simon âGhostâ Riley
He always encourages you to put your whole weight onto his face - doesn't matter what size you are, he loves being smothered by your thighs.
His tongue is lapping your wetness like a man starved, when he mis-times his movements completely, feeling his neck go 'pop.'
He halts his movements with a grunt, head falling flat against the mattress; you raise yourself back off his face so sit at his side, as his hand comes up to cradle the back of his neck.
"Ah shit, that doesn't feel good."
He'd be pissy in the ambulance, purely because he wasn't allowed to put his balaclava on before he left and he's not happy about the Paramedics seeing his face.
Since he's legally dead, I reckon Price would have to pull some strings to get him seen in a private hospital to try and keep things hush hush.
He would be a grumpy guy when he has to wear one of those neck supports for the next few weeks," I look like a twat."
Isn't annoyed at you in the slightest - in fact it's quite the opposite, you had to tell him 'no' more than once when he suggested you sit on his face again, neck brace be damned.
"Would be a hell of a way to die, Love."
Johnny âSoapâ MacTavish
This would probably one of many sex-related injuries he's had in the past.
Pulled his hamstring and a few muscles in his back one night when you two were really going at it.
Slipped during shower sex and almost took you to the ground with him.
Has banged his head off the headboard during missionary more times than you can count.
So it's fair to say that considering he's in the SAS, he's really accident prone.
Would wear the neck brace with pride, wouldnât care if the team took the piss out of him for it - and for how he got injured in the process.
Even when his neck was in agony, he couldn't stop smiling.
"Considering how this happened in the first place, cannae really complain, Darlin'."
If he felt any awkwardness he didn't show it - even in the Emergency Department, he wasn't shy when he was asked how he hurt himself, which made you flush bright red each time.
Would probably act like a big baby when he'd given medical leave.
Being able to just be with you, cuddling and spending time together, was amazing - and he'd been given 6 weeks off, so he was going to enjoy every second of it.
Oh, and like Ghost, he absolutely wouldn't be deterred by the experience in the slightest.
But is maybe a bit more mindful to put a pillow under his neck the next time he asks you to sit on his face.
Captain John Price
I reckon his neck is probably fucked already - like the muscles in his neck get so tight that sometimes he struggles to turn his head.
It's the norm for him.
But when he feels a sudden pop sensation just above his nape, he knows that something isn't right.
Probably would have encouraged you to continue riding his face if it wasn't for the intense pain shooting up his neck.
Would refuse to go to the hospital - "I've had worse on the field, Love, I'll be fine."
It wasn't until you pushed him into going for an x-ray that he realised he'd actually injured himself.
Wouldn't tell a soul what happened - not even the Doctors.
His private life stays just that - private.
Would grumble like an old man when he has to put the supportive collar on; "I look like a bloody dog when it's had its knackers cut off..."
Also wouldn't be annoyed at you at all - in fact, he promises that as soon as he's given the all clear to stop wearing "this bloody thing" he wants you back on his face.
Captains orders ~
Kyle âGazâ Garrick
Mans is just confused as fuck.
One minute you're riding his face, his hands on your ass guiding your movements.
The next he's in agony - and then in an ambulance.
It isn't until a Doctor reviews his x-rays with him that he finally clicks on to what happened.
You rode his face...and broke his neck.
The realisation has him breaking into a fit of laughter - which mildly concerns the clinical staff.
He's in the military, risks his life on the regular - and the worst injury he's gained so far is from oral.
He's honestly nearly pissing himself from laughter, which makes you laugh too.
The neck brace doesn't even bother him one bit - the medical leave is a bonus in his eyes because he gets to spend more quality time with you.
Doesn't tell the Team how it happened - but Soap put the pieces together in his head, and is clapping Gaz on the back with booming laughter at the realisation.
"Fuckin' hell mate, that's one way tae do it!"
Alejandro Vargas
Like Soap, he's a bit too happy considering the situation he's in.
He's a passionate man, so getting an injury during sex doesn't bother him at all.
Usually he's very co-ordinated and he definitely knows what he's doing in the bedroom.
So fuck knows how he managed to practically break his neck whilst you were riding his face.
One wrong jerky move of his head and the next - searing pain.
Also is a grumpy guy when he's wearing the neck brace.
Would definitely play on it a bit, giving you the big brown puppy dog eyes so you'd give him more cuddles and affection; "Mi Amor, it hurts less when you're by my side ~"
Definitely would still try and initiate sex despite being told to take it easy.
Would happily let you ride him on the couch - his typical positions weren't on the cards but any angle he gets of your amazing body brings him bliss.
Gets the brace off...and probably injures himself again because he was a bit too eager to finish what he started.
Rudy Parra
Like his comrade, he's also a very passionate lover.
Apparently, a bit too passionate.
Which is why he was currently sat on your couch, arms crossed over his chest with a slightly annoyed expression.
He's not annoyed at you - he's annoyed that he didn't get to finish what he started.
Rudy was having the time of his life, smothered between your thighs, and he probably would've kept going had it not been you that hurriedly hopped off his face when he let out a pained groan.
Would probably try and convince you to let him continue where you left off.
But the hospital staff would probably be less impressed if he ended up back in the Emergency Department because he hurt himself further.
So he waits...impatiently.
As soon as the Doctor gives him the all clear, he practically dives between your legs.
He has to make up for lost time ;)
König
The poor guy is mortified - heâs not angry at you, not one bit, but that trip to the hospital is one that heâll never forget.
Doesnât like social situations, or hospitals for that matter, so being in a busy A&E department really was making him feel gradually worse by the minute.
That and he still had a bit of a *ahem* problem since your activities got interrupted.
Wearing a neck brace wouldn't bother him too much - as long as he can still wear his hood, he's happy.
Speaking of which, imagine the poor doctors trying to persuade him to take it off so they can examine his neck.
Thankfully he doesn't have to go on-base wearing the support - he'd probably die of embarrassment if Horangi found out what exactly happened, because then the entire base would find out no doubt.
Somehow, his comrade finds out anyways, and texts his friend some thumbs up emojis; "Way to go, big guy, best way to end up in the ER ;)"
After he gets the brace off and has to take it easy for a bit he'd be a bit sad since having you sitting on his face is his all time favourite position :(
Still, he improvises - and when he has your knees pressed to your chest and his mouth is writing the alphabet between your thighs, you would never complain ~
#simon riley#soap mactavish#kyle gaz garrick#captain price#john price#konig#rudy parra#alejandro vargas#simon riley x reader#soap mactavish x reader#kyle garrick x reader#captain price x reader#rudy parra x reader#alejandro vargas x reader#konig x reader#multifandomimagin3s
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London Boy - Lewis Hamilton
Part of 1K Jukebox Event
song: London boy - Taylor Swift
pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!
genre: fluff and christmassy
a/n: I just had to incorporate Christmas into this, London comes alive.
wordcount: +2k
As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!
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It started innocently enough: a quiet morning with the smell of the coffee I was sipping, my mind half-heartedly scrolling through some of yesterdayâs work emails and Roscoe sprawled at my feet, living his best bulldog life.
I had a planâa simple one reallyâto find the Christmas decorations buried somewhere in Lewisâs London townhouse and get a head start before I had to log on for work. Simple, right?
Wrong.
The first box I opened contained a jumble of outdoor lights that had more knots than my last relationship.
The second? A single, lonely stocking with "Lewis" stitched in glittery red thread. Roscoe, perched nearby, watched me with the kind of judgment only a dog could muster, as if to say, This isnât going to cut it.
âDonât look at me like that,â I muttered, tugging at a particularly stubborn tangle in the excuse of a tinsel. âItâs not my fault your dad doesnât know how to Christmas.â
âPlease tell me thereâs more,â I muttered, sifting through the pile.
Ten minutes later, I had exactly one usable string of lights and even those were iffy. Roscoe tilted his head, his expression unreadable but clearly unimpressed. âCâmom, you live part time here too, buddy.â
âWhatâs that supposed to mean?â Lewisâs voice floated in from the doorway, and I turned to find him leaning against the frame, still sweaty from his morning workout.
I gestured dramatically at the underwhelming collection of decorations spread across the living room. âThis. Whereâs the rest of it?â
He raised an eyebrow. âThe rest of what?â
âYour Christmas stuff! Youâre telling me thisââ I held up the sad, glitter-bald stocking. ââis all youâve got?â
âWellâŠâ He scratched the back of his neck, clearly trying to figure out the least incriminating way to answer. âIâm not usually home in December.â
âThatâs not an excuse.â I folded my arms. âWhere are the ornaments? The lights? The reindeer?â
âYou mean the inflatables?â he asked, his mouth twitching into a smile. âYeah, I donât do that.â
âYou canât be serious,â I said, holding up the tinsel like it was a crime scene. âWhereâs the Target around here?â
Lewis smirked, crossing his arms. âYouâre painfully American, arenât you?â
âExcuse me for wanting to salvage your dignity,â I shot back, though I couldnât help smiling.
âOkay, no Target,â he said, crossing the room and taking a seat beside Roscoe, who immediately shifted to rest his head on Lewisâs lap. âBut if you really want to do it right, Iâll show you how Londoners do Christmas. No plastic snowmen required.â
âWhat have you got in mind?â I said, eyeing him suspiciously. âI need to work in a couple of hoursâ
He stood, dusting off his hands. âCall in sick, itâs an emergency apparently."
By the time we were ready to leave, Roscoe was snoring in his dog bed, having made it very clear he actually had no interest in braving the London chill for a day of wandering. âIâll make it up to you later, buddy,â I promised, scratching his ears. âExtra cuddles tonight. Deal?â
He snorted but didnât open his eyes, which I took as a yes.
âReady?â Lewis called from the living room, where he was lounging on the sofa, scrolling through his phone.
He was wearing a black hoodie under a long coat, a beanie pulled low over his curls, and a pair of sneakers so understated they were practically anonymous. It was a far cry from his usual fashion statements, and I couldnât help but grin.
âLook at you, blending in,â I teased, grabbing my coat.
âLaugh all you want,â he said, standing and holding out his hand. âBut Iâd like to get through today without anyone noticing me.â
He couldâve passed for any handsome Londoner with his toned-down attire and hands stuffed casually in his pockets. I, however, couldnât help feeling like I had a flashing neon sign over my head reading: Not local.
We opted for the âtubeâ over driving, partly because Lewis claimed it was faster and partly because he knew arriving in a Maybach was bound to attract attention.
But as we descended into the tube station, I noticed his posture shift slightly. He was alert, scanning the crowd with the ease of someone used to blending in but always watching for that one double-take.
âDo people ever stop you on the streets?â I asked, glancing around as we boarded the train.
âNot as often as youâd think,â he said, keeping his voice low and pulling me closer under the guise of adjusting my scarf. âJust donât want us to get stopped.â
As the train rattled along, I found myself relaxing. A few people glanced our way, but no one seemed to recognize himâor if they did, they were polite enough not to say anything.
It was also midmorning, the kind of lull between commuter rushes where everyone seemed too distracted to care about celebrity sightings.
As the train rocked gently along the tracks, I caught Lewis studying the map on the wall, his brow furrowed like he hadnât ever lived here.
âYou lost already?â I teased, nudging him lightly.
âNot lost. Just making sure I donât get us there too quickly. You wanted the experience, right?â
I rolled my eyes but smiled, leaning into his side as he draped an arm around my shoulders. Maybe I wouldnât admit it out loud, but there was something comforting about being here with him, about how easy it felt to slip into this little bubble where the world didnât exist for a while.
It was newâthis whole âofficial coupleâ thingâbut moments like this made it feel like it had always been.
Leadenhall Market was straight out of a storybook. The arched glass ceiling, the twinkling lights strung across shopfronts, and the faint scent of mulled wine in the air made it feel like Christmas had been bottled and poured out onto the cobblestones. It was a world away from the glossy, commercial buzz of a Target holiday aisle, and I had to admitâit was enchanting.
âI might give it to youâ I said as we stepped into the main thoroughfare. âThis is better than Target.â
Lewis grinned, shoving his hands deeper into his coat pockets. âTold you. Now, for some real decorationsâŠâ
âOkay, whatâs the strategy here?â I asked, holding onto his arm as we wove through the crowd. âDo we start with ornaments or lights?â
âLights,â he said without hesitation. âYouâre going to be picky about ornaments. I can already tell.â
âYouâre not wrong,â I admitted. âI have a vision.â
He laughed, and I felt a warm glow in my chest. Â But the first stall that caught my eyes had a mix of antique ornaments and handmade crafts and I couldnât help but stop.
Lewis crouched down to inspect a hand-painted bauble featuring Big Ben in a snowy London scene, holding it up for me to see.
âThis one?â he asked.
âCute, but I had something else in mindâ I replied, scanning the table. My eyes landed on a set of ceramic stars painted in gold and white, each with a different constellation. âNow these are something else.â
He followed my gaze, his expression softening as he picked one up. âThe stars, huh?â
âDonât get all poetic on me,â I teased, nudging his arm. âI just think theyâre classy.â
âClassy worksâ he said, adding the set to our growing pile of treasures.
By the time we left the market, my tote bag was overflowing with ornaments, candles, and a small wreath Iâd insisted on for the front door. We found a cozy cafĂ© tucked into one corner of the market, where Lewis ordered me something he swore was divine
âYule log?â I asked inspecting what looked a lot like a mini jelly roll
âJust try it, itâs a lot more chocolaty than youâre giving it creditâ He quipped, watching me intently as steam curl up from the tea cup in his hand.
âI could get used to thisâ I admitted after the first couple of bites
He leaned back in his chair, his beanie pushed up slightly as he regarded me with a contented smile. âMarkets and pastries? Or me indulging your Christmas obsession?â
âBoth,â I said, lifting my latte in a mock toast.
The Southbank Centre Winter Market was our next stop, and as we strolled along the Thames, the city lights reflecting off the water, I realized how much I loved this less flashy and slower side of London.
Couples and family walked hand-in-hand, vendors called out their wares, and the air smelled of roasted chestnuts.
âThis is pretty niceâ I murmured, leaning into Lewisâs side.
âEven without a Target?â he teased.
âEven without a Target.â
At one stall, he insisted I had to try Hot Toddy, a hot drink that tasted a lot like something my grandma made me as a kid to soothe coughing, only a lot stronger considering the Scottish whiskey used.
We wandered past stands selling everything from handmade soaps to quirky holiday jumpers. One vendor offered personalized tree ornaments, and I couldnât resist commissioning one with both our names on it.
âItâs our first Christmas togetherâ I explained when Lewis raised an eyebrow.
âOfficiallyâ he corrected, his tone light but meaningful.
I smiled, squeezing his hand. âYou know what I meantïżœïżœïżœ
Being here with him, like this, made me realize how much weâd grown into this new version of us. It wasnât always smoothânothing with Lewis ever wasâbut thatâs what made it worth it. He wasnât just letting me into his world; he was building one with me.
The day ended a lot closer to his house in Chelsea. Hyde Park Winter Wonderland was bustling, with strings of fairy lights crisscrossing the paths, and the distant hum of carnival rides mixed with the strains of Christmas carols from a nearby stage.
Lewis hesitated as we walked through the entrance, glancing around the bustling crowd.
âYou okay?â I asked, noting the slight tension in his posture.
âYeah,â he said after a moment. âItâs just⊠busy. You know how it is.â
I nodded, understanding. Being out in public like this was a delicate balance for himâtrying to enjoy the moment while always being aware of who might be watching.
But as we moved further into the park, the magic of the place seemed to ease his nerves. He pulled his hood up a bit higher, keeping his hand securely in mine as we navigated the crowd.
At one point, we stopped to watch a street performer of this Christmas carol. Lewisâs features were light and carefree, and I found myself watching him more than the act itself.
There was something about the way his face softened in the glow of the lights that made my chest ache in the best way.
âCaught you staring,â he said, catching my eye.
âShut up,â I muttered, trying to hide my smile taking another a sip of my hot chocolate.
âCanât blame you,â he teased, leaning down to murmur in my ear. âIâve been told Iâm irresistible.â
I rolled my eyes, but my reaction betrayed me as I leaned closer into his embrace
As we walked deeper into the park, I noticed itâthe way Lewisâs shoulders relaxed, his hood slipping back just slightly, letting the lights catch the edges of his profile. This wasnât a side of him I often saw in public, and I felt a quiet kind of privilege in witnessing it.
We ended the night at one of the quieter corners of the park, sharing a massive pretzel while perched on a bench overlooking the ice-skating rink. The laughter of skaters echoing around us.
âThis was a good day,â I said softly, resting my head against his shoulder.
âIâve spent so many late Novembers in hotels or on planes. Christmas always felt like something other people did. The decorations, the markets⊠it just didnât stick. But with you here? It matters again.â he said, his voice low as he moved from watching the skaters to pressing a kiss to the side of my head, his arm wrapping around me. âNext year, Iâll even brave Target.â
âThis might actually be betterâ I admitted softly.
Lewis chuckled, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. âOnly âmightâ?â
âDonât push it,â I warned, though I couldnât help smiling.
He smirked, pulling me closer. âTold you. London knows how to do Christmas.â
And I couldnât argue with that.
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Domestic!Pedri Head cannons 󦈤
I cannot contain myself. Iâm actually about to tweak thinking about these. đ Thank you Enny for helping me come up with these smooch smooch. Sorry I got so carried away with theseâŠ
feel free to request head canons about anyone !
â Domestic Pedri who, you catch talking to Nilo all the time. Pedri will walk around the house with the little black pup in his arms, pointing things out to him.
âAnd thatâs a picture of me and your uncle Fer.. And thatâs my new shoes, those you better not touch.â or heâll scroll through his camera roll, showing pictures of many different things, mostly pictures heâd taken of you. âLook at her, isnât she just perfect?â Itâs genuinely the most adorable thing in the world.
â Domestic Pedri who, after a rough day of practice just wants to lay in between your legs while you thread your fingers through his freshly dried hair. After he adopted Nilo, every time he tries to enjoy your cuddles, the pup will jump and scratch at your legs till Pedri picks him up and lays him on his chest. A small smile takes over your lips at the sight, your boyfriend was just too adorable and so was your new addition.
â Domestic Pedri who, likes to cook with you. It had become a common routine for the two of you after you moved in together. Now, with a dog running around the house, you two found yourselves tripping over him often. When you do so, you both erupt into a light of laughter, spewing out apologies and kissing Niloâs head even though he wasnât hurt.
â Domestic Pedri who, after a long day at practice begs you to wait to shower until he gets home. He always insists that, âitâs saving water.â But you know he just wants an excuse to be close to you, and of course you always agree. You loved the way he peppered your shoulders with soft kisses and the way his hands felt massaging the shampoo into your scalp. Showers with Pedri were when you were your most relaxed, and he felt the same way.
â Domestic Pedri who, never leaves you alone. On your days off you like to make meals and snacks for each other instead of going out, knowing Pedri was on a strict diet, it helped save cost anyways. Whenever you are making something, Pedri will sneak up on you, snaking his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder. Despite knowing what you were making, heâll ask anyways, âWhatâre you making, amor?â He just loved to hear your sweet voice reply.
â Domestic Pedri who, always, and I mean always gives you three kisses whenever heâs about to leave or whenever he is grateful or even if he just is passing by. Itâs never on the same spot, he kisses your lips, shoulders, cheek, temple, jaw, neck, anywhere. And heâll rotate them every time. His own little way of saying, âI love you.â without actually saying it, not that he has a problem saying those three words, but he just liked the simplicity and intimacy of kissing you.
â Domestic Pedri who, loves to cuddle with you whenever he can. On his days off he likes to sleep in, groaning and complaining any time you try to cut it short to do your morning duties. Once youâre done (after prying yourself from his grip), you climb back into bed, this time spooning him, intertwining your legs together. Pedri loves to feel your soft breaths against his neck, half of the time it will lull him back to sleep.
â Domestic Pedri who, paces around the house constantly. Being an athlete, he is used to moving around constantly, which causes him to feel antsy when heâs sitting alone for too long. After coming home from work, you often find him walking around the living room, staring at his phone. He only settles down when he spots you, pulling you in for a welcoming hug.
â Domestic Pedri who, doesnât care much for TV shows, but will watch anything with you as long as youâre cuddling. He tries to pretend he isnât completely enthralled in whatever youâre watching, but his random outbursts when something stupid happens says all you need to know.
âHe did WHAT?â , âIs this a joke?â
â Domestic Pedri who, prefers staying in instead of going out for dates. With him constantly in the public eye, he feels uncomfortable with the invasion of privacy. When heâs having intimate moments with you, he prefers not to have to hide or mellow it down. In the safety of your home, he can kiss you anywhere he pleases without wondering how the media will react. He also just likes to have you all to himself, so being at home gives you all the privacy in the world with no interruptions.
â Domestic Pedri who, will do anything for you. If youâre having a bad day, he will pamper you senseless. If you are sick, he will disappear for half an hour and come back with your favorite foods or things to cheer you up. He loves to take care of you. He hates to see you hurting and would do anything to make you feel better.
â Domestic Pedri who, is the biggest baby when heâs sick. At first, heâll act like it doesnât bother him, but the second you make a concerned face, heâs suddenly so much sicker. Heâll pout and pretend heâs on his death bed till you call out of work to nurse him back to health.
â Domestic Pedri who, loves to do anything as long as itâs with you. You want to play board games? Heâs already on the way to grab them. You want to go shopping? Heâs grabbing the keys. You want to go to the movies? Heâs putting on a hoodie. You want to go for a walk? Heâs grabbing his sneakers. Anything you want, he will do.
â Domestic Pedri who, doesnât hesitate to clean the dishes after meal times. Heâd rather take care of it right away so you donât have to worry about it later. Heâs always on top of things around the house, too. If something needs repaired, heâll make the calls for you. Your family loves to tease him about how good of a husband heâll be one day, and you canât help but agree.
(DT): @halfwayhearted ^_^
#pedri#pedri gonzalez#headcanon#pedri x reader#blurb#football#im ill about this#i love you domestic pedri.#nilo#pedri x you
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CURRENTS ââË.â
PART 2: Let It Happen
WARNING! Explicit RPF!Â
IMPORTANT!!! You have to read PART 1 before this or it won't make sense! âïœĄđŠč°âËïœĄâ
Summary: You and Joost were never lovers, never friends but something in the middle that ended up hurting more, you meet again years later and many things have changed but others stay the same.Â
Word count: 14,4k
CW: 18+, f! reader, past friends with benefits, mutual pining, jealousy, yearning so much yearning, angst with a happy ending? who knowsâŠyou will have to read I guess (àč>ŰâąÌàč)âËâĄ
You had said yes to dinner, that was unexpected. Some part of him thought you would hang up or curse him out and then hung up but you didnât and somehow that scared him worse. It meant that you were truly unbothered by this, that he was just an old fling who had no further impact on your life and that you were totally calm about this unlike him, who hadnât been able to stop thinking about you for a single minute since the call. That was not the reality at all but he couldnât know that. You had kept your old number, that was the first surprise actually, he had heard from an acquittance from those days that you were back who had heard it from a friend of a friend and he wasnât sure if it was true but he wanted it to be. He had called to the number he weirdly remembered by heart and had waited with sweaty hands while it rang, when he heard your voice he felt a strange sense of warm envelop him for the first time in years.Â
Joost was eager to see you and felt a nervous at the same time. He knew things ended up badly between the two of you, but the truth is that there really wasnât any clear line of what you were, so how could there ever be a good ending?. Regardless, now you were back and he felt he could finally face you, if anything he just wanted to know you were doing alright and maybe you had even found someone you loved in the time you were apart, then maybe he could put all his pent up feelings to rest and move on, emphasis on the maybe.Â
He had gotten a table at a much nicer restaurant than he thinks the two of you ever went to, in truth those days the best he would do was get take out to your tiny apartment before or right after you had sex. He wonders if he ever properly took you out on a date and the answer is no, he didnât. He had been immature and self centered without even realizing and you were far too good for him, he didnât understand why you even wasted your time on him when so clearly many other better candidates were holding out a candle for you and yet you chose him, always.
He arrived earlier than the meeting time, he was bad at timing in those days and he still was, but wanted, no, needed, to make a good impression so he made the effort and waited on held breath until he saw your familiar figure entering the restaurant. You hadnât changed much and at the same time you were totally unrecognizable, more regal, elegant and beautiful than he remembered. It seemed like you had grown into every one of your features even more dazzling than before and carried yourself with so much grace it felt like you were floating.Â
He was taller, maybe it was just you memory playing tricks on you, he had kept the mustache but everything else was different. His hair was longer, cut into a mullet, you remember how he had mentioned wanting one as a child, it is the same color as when you met him, which means he kept dyeing it or had dyed it recently, he was wearing chunky glasses, when you met him he would refuse to and would just walk around half blind, he was dressed differently and he was more handsome than you wanted to admit. It would be a lie to say you didnât keep an eye on him through the years, secretly proud of his successes and uncharacteristically anxious about his failures. But he had thrown you out and there was no reason to let him know that, answering his call like a good loyal dog was humiliating enough.
âHi.â He gets up to greet you and speaks all cheerfully, way too excited to contain it, part of him thought you would stand him up which wouldnât be fully underserved but he is ecstatic that you are actually here.
âHey.â You reply with a small smile escaping your lips.
He opens his arms, wants to hug you so bad, he has missed you so terribly but you just extend you hand for him to shake. His face drops a little but he composes himself quickly and shakes your hand back with a faked smiled pulled taut on his lips so you wonât see how disappointed he is, your skin is so soft and warm his memories didnât do you justice.
âYou look really beautiful.â He says, it stumbles out of his mouth, he doesnât know if it is not the right thing to say but he means it, truthfully with the years passing his memory of you had gotten fuzzy and seeing the real you in the flesh in front of him is a lot to take in.
You smile back at him, there is the smallest blush on your cheeks, almost undetectable, back when you first met he would enjoy making you blush over everything and anything it was so easy and he loved pulling your hands away from you face when you tried to hide it.
âYou look good yourself Joost.â His hand tightens a little on yours, hearing you say his name sends a wave of nostalgia over him that threatens to knock him over, maybe he wasnât strong enough to face you but you are here all the same.
He helps you sit, pulls your chair and calls for the waiter. You order and the waiter disappears again after bringing you your drinks, you talk a bit about everything, what you have been up to, what he has been up to, you mention the place you had moved to, how your career had grown, the job you have now, he talks about the places he has been to, the cool artists he has met and the Eurovision thing, he skims right through it even though you know from the whole press and the sad expression on his face that it was a fresh wound. You feel a little sad that he will not talk about it with you, but even in the days when you shared a bed he was so cagey you couldnât expect him to open up now out of all times, so you just let him change the subject without a fight.Â
The dinner feels awkward, not entirely bad but not entirely good either, you had known each other for little under a year so you tried to make the same questions you would for an old acquaintance but it didnât help that he had gotten more handsome and mature and kept distracting you with his shiny smile. You eat in silence for a bit unsure of what to say, you werenât old friends but you werenât exactly strangers either. It was far too weird to try to keep this fake diplomacy with someone who had seen you naked so many times but it was even weirded to try to pull conversation out of him when every word and every question felt like you were walking on shaky ground.
âYou-your new album was good.â You say after a while starting to feel the tension is too heavy, your words tumble and crash on each other, you speak too fast, your hands are sweaty and maybe you will faint, but at this point it would be better, a nice dramatic exit to the night and then tomorrow you would change your phone number and never hear from him again.
âYou listened to it?â He looks at you genuinely surprised like he didnât expect it all all, he looks so eager to know what you thought, in the old days music talk was the only time you felt he was really honest with you and this feels so familiar a wave of nostalgia softens you.
âYeah, I did tell you I liked your music that one time.â You smile at him before looking away avoiding his bright eyes. âAnd I didnât say that just to get you in bed mind you.â He laughs.
He had always liked that about you, you had a quick mind and would be able to talk about anything and make it funny, he was happy to hear your stories. Now years later and much learning in between he had finally realized what he had truly lost and it hurt like a thorn deep in his heart. He would dream about you, not often truly, but it happened a few times through the years in a way that made him think about you when it was the last thing he wanted to do. In dreams he would see you impossibly bright, laughing at something stupid he said and by god did he say a lot of stupid things on those days, or in the shower talking about something one of your friends had done, while he just wordlessly admired the soft curves of your figure covered in drops of water, he would see you in bed sleeping with drool coming out of the corner of your mouth that he would wipe before you raised because you would get shy and flustered if you realized on your own when you woke up. He feels his heart swell in a way that it it hasnât in years, you are sitting across from him looking so pretty under the candlelights, he remembers you younger, sitting on the tiny table at the kitchen of your apartment, stealing food from his plate and laughing at the TV, he wishes he could have kept that forever, the place that felt like home.Â
âAre you seeing someone?â He asks all of a sudden, he knows he shouldnât, he is pushing his luck too far and yet canât stop himself.
âYou donât get to ask that.â You shake your head.
âWe are catching up, right? It is a normal catching up question.â He says with an awkward laugh more trying to justify himself than anything.
You donât know what to answer, you had obviously had other relationships in the mean time it was not like you were eternally holding hope that one day he would remember the old toy he left hanging somewhere and come back and pick you up, but now of all times you were single. Lying didnât feel right and telling the truth didnât either. Maybe somewhere in the middle will do.
âI have been on a few dates.â You say careful with every world, if you had been looking at him instead of avoiding his gaze perhaps you could have seen the way his shoulders dropped but you missed it.
âI see.â He replies drily, regrets the question instantly perhaps he would be better off not knowing.
âWhat about you?â
âNo.â
You crook an eyebrow at him. âReally now Mr. International Superstar?â
He looks up at you, finds you wearing an amused face, perhaps being friends is still okay, no matter how much his heart aches for you he doesnât want to fully lose you from his life ever again.Â
âIâm not the type.â He replies shaking his head lightly, you roll your eyes at him.
âOkay.â You say tone full of sarcasm perhaps it comes out more bitter than you mean it to be, even in the past you had not been together and now you have even less of a reason to give him attitude.Â
âIâm serious.â He says a little indignant. âI mean obviously Iâve been with people but I just-â He stops himself halfway through, you look at him even more curious now.
âYou just what?â You ask.
âNothing.â He goes back to dig on his plate.
I just cannot meet someone like you. Is what he leaves unsaid, you shrug and continue eating in awkward silence. He remembers all the things he left unsaid before, how he wanted to but didnât think you would want to hear it, how he was so unsure of himself he didnât want to fuck up, too scared of rejection he didnât even dare try and how because of all that, he lost you and he refuses to let that happen again so he gathers as much courage as he can and says.Â
âActually, I just havenât met someone like you.â
You choke a little on your food, you can never recall a time where he would ever be so honest and canât figure out why he would be now, you look at him with wide eyes. Your brain works hard to make sense of what he is saying. You didnât understand why he wanted you back then and now that he has even more options it makes even less sense, you feel stupid and small again, it makes you angry. You laugh bitterly.
âIâm serious.â
You try to hold back your anger and take a deep breath before replying. âI donât know I- I wouldnât know Joost, I donât really think we ever got to know each other.â You shrug slightly and smile sadly at him.
That hurts him more deeply than you can imagine and the fact that you are right is worse.Â
âI always regretted how things happened between us.â He says, sounds truthful enough but you canât help yourself or the bitter feelings that fill your heart now.
He sounds so far off from the guy you had met, it feels like he might be an entirely different person playing a prank on you, but when you look back at him you see those same baby blue eyes that would find you in the night it sends a pang of pain to your heart.
âIt is whatever.â You say, drinking from your glass trying to keep it together. You feel like an idiot right now, you shouldnât have come, it was a bad idea.
You feel like yourself of four years ago again, and she sucked. She was not very smart and she was so stupidly in love with this guy, she had made you answer his call eager to see him again and now it was you who had to take charge of her bad decisions.
âI really am sorry.â He moves to grab your hand. You feel the back of your eyes prickling uncomfortably, maybe you werenât so over him as you liked to pretend.
âOkay.â You say, not knowing what else to say as you pull your hand away, his touch feels like it burns. He looks truly regretful, you shouldnât have blown off the handle like that and you know better than it, but the younger you is so eager to see him again she seems to keep popping out and makes you act unlike yourself.
You finish your meals, still talk about mundane stuff, how moving was a nightmare, he tells you he has moved a bunch, he is an expert and he should write a book about it, he is ridiculous in an endearing way, that hasnât changed at all. You wish somewhere in your heart that he will meet someone who makes him happy, who can match his wit, who will laugh at his jokes and make sure he eats at least one proper meal a day because you suspect somehow that he still not very good at taking care of himself. You wish well for him because somewhere inside your heart he still has a place and you still feel so much tenderness for him it chokes you up a little bit.
The waiter takes the plates away, Joost pays for your meals and opens the door for you, had he ever been that gentlemanly? No, not really. Again this new version of him seems to be making you dizzy.
âCan I walk you home?â He asks as you exit the restaurant.
âSure, yeah I would like that thanks.â You accept because if this is the last time you will see him you want to extend it a little more, be a little selfish for your younger self she deserves to stare at him for a little longer so she can finish memorizing all pretty landmarks of his pretty face.
You walk together slowly like you are both trying to prolong the inevitable goodbye as much as you can. He points you to new places that have opened and also the once that closed since you were gone, he recommends some so you can go later, secretly wishes he could be the one to take you there. He misses all the mundane with you, after you he never really got to experience that with anyone else and felt like he didnât even want to, too scared to muddy his memories with you. The further away from home he got the more he wanted to come back and the more that feeling grew the more he realized he would never again meet someone like you.
In those days you had thought he was a little out of your league, he had though you were a little out of his. You never seemed to quiet connect perfectly like pieces of a puzzle being forced to fit together by greedy hands, now, with more life experience under your belt you wonder if that is even a real possibility and maybe you were just being unrealistic in your expectations. Now, you are looking at him with new eyes and he seems to be a really good guy, not prince charming, not straight out a romance movie but just him, just Joost and that is somehow better than any stupid fantasy.Â
He keeps stealing little glances at you like he is trying to commit you to memory, like any moment now you will disappear into a cloud. And maybe he isnât so wrong you have already done that before and you distantly think if things would have been any different if instead of running away you would have faced him head on, even if it didnât fix anything it probably would have given you better closure than what you have right now.
He feels this weird soft sadness envelop him the longer he looks at you, your hair is different, there are almost unnoticeable scars on your hands maybe from cooking you were always a little reckless with the knives, your face has grown even more beautiful and he canât help but feel so lonely when he realizes he missed all of that, that he could have seen you grow and change right in front of him like a little plant on the windowsill and he missed it for his own lack of courage. He sees tiny goosebumps form on your arms, remembers how you were always bad at taking a jacket with you when you went out and that one at least seems to not have changed which makes him smile, you are not a total stranger after all.Â
He chucks off his blazer and rests it on your shoulders without a word, you feel his scent envelop you so suddenly that you feel you might truly pass out now.Â
This image of you on one of his hoodies sitting on bed while he plays you one of his new songs pops up in his mind so clearly he feels he has turned back time and he truly wishes he could.
âI wish we had met at a different time.â He says not looking at you, he fears if he sees the rejection on your face it will be too much.Â
âYeah? I donât think you should think like that.â You say kicking a little rock down the street to distract yourself from how overflowed with emotions this whole thing makes you feel.
âHow come?â He stops on his tracks to look at you.
âWell, nothing would change, we just wouldnât work.â You shrug like you are just stating facts it angers him a little truly.
âWell I'm different now, you are too.â He says plainly.Â
âYou canât know that from a dinner.â You laugh genuinely for the first time in the night, he hasnât heard that sound in so long he wants to record it keep it in his heart forever even if you donât want to talk to him ever again he wants to at least keep that.
âBut I can, you are more mature and smarter and more beautiful too.â
You properly snort at that last one even thought he is being honest. You shake your head and turn around to look at him.
âThe bleach melted your brain.â You scrunch your nose and raise a hand up to shake the soft strands of hair between your fingers, like you are really friends, like all of this is normal.
Should he try that? If you reject him could he offer being your friend, he really does like you not just having sex with you, like you think, and he thinks you are wicked funny and far too kind, probably kinder than he deserved, specially at that time and if he has a little crush on you it would be okay as long as he kept it to himself, he could also have you in his life. Who knows maybe down the line you could be proper normal friends and perhaps that is what the universe had always envisioned for both of you but you had gone and messed with it by adding love to the mix.Â
You find yourself deep into the streets of the city you once loved so much, next to a man you also loved too much for your own good but then all too late you realize you accidentally walked back to your old place, the one where you had been together countless times, you break out into laughter your body doubling over.
âWhat?â He asks amused looking at you, you canât reply, this is all so stupid, it canât be happening. âWhat? Tell me.â He says rubbing soft circles between your shoulder blades over his blazer to calm you down.Â
You look up at him your eyes full of happy tears or perhaps sad, you canât know. You feel so overwhelmed by everything, you have been so good at holding it in and now you just explode. You are laughing and crying at the same time, you feel like four years of forgotten feelings just bubbled to the surface and you can barely bring yourself to care.
âI donât live here anymore.â You manage to blurt out, you are wiping away at your tears while still giggling in between so amused by the entire situation it is like it isnât even happening to you, like this must be a dark comedy movie or something âGod this is so ridiculous, this is so stupid!â You say throwing your arms up in the air and shaking your head.Â
He thinks you are so beautiful in your wild laughter but he starts getting worried when he sees the tears donât stop.Â
âHey, it is okay, we will get a cab.â He says taking a step towards you but you take a step back like you are afraid of his touch.Â
âNo, no.â You shake again, not really knowing what you are saying anymore.
âHey are you okay?â He is worried now, truly scared, he goes to put a hand on your shoulder then feels you shake with a heavy sob.
âNo, I am really not.â You say it in between a bitter laugh as you cover your face with your hands. âI just really wish I had never met you.â You blurt it out before you can stop it and it cuts deep right into his heart, you can see through eyes blurry with tears how Joostâs face drops and goes pale instantly, he lets go of you.
âIâll get you a cab.â He says, his voice sounds distant, so unfamiliar now.Â
The fact that he looks so sad angers you even more, he has no right to be the one hurt when he is the one who threw you away.
âDonât you wish the same too?â You say in a harsh tone, just wanting him to confirm all your fears, that he was glad he got away from you, that his life was so much better now and he never missed you, never thought of you.
You were looking for a fight, for him to be cruel like he once had been, even though you knew it was not on his nature and he never meant it like that. He takes a deep breath and looks at you like you are asking something so stupid it isnât even worth answering, he looks like he is about to cry too.
âNo, never. I wouldnât give up meeting you for anything.â
You feel your throat burn with a sob. You stand together in the dark streets silently waiting for the cab, it arrives he helps you in without saying a word and then you are gone.Â
He watches the car drive off holding back tears when he sees you disappear around the corner, it hits him, you are gone, you are truly gone and he couldnât fix anything, he couldnât solve anything, like every time before he messed it up, he wasnât enough and now there is no second chance, he already spent all his second chances years before and this was his last one and even when such a long time has passed he didnât figure it out, didnât figure you out for as much as he wanted to pretend like he knew you maybe he didnât at all.Â
Joost goes back home alone, showers alone and then falls into bed trying to get some sleep alone, like always. Nothing has changed because nothing could change and maybe he was the only one who hadnât moved on, the only one who had not grown because you at least were smart enough and strong enough to cut the cord. But he was still pathetically holding onto the memories, onto every word and every touch and every night you spent together without admitting to himself it was all just that, memories and perhaps it should stay in the past, perhaps it is supposed to just be looked back on fondly instead of like him clinging like a scared child to something he doesnât want to lose.Â
The days go by in a blur, he doesnât really want to get up from bed and he doesnât really have a reason to, he just stays inside mindlessly watching TV and scrolling his phone, he thinks about calling you, apologizing again but he remembers your words so vividly ringing inside his head, the way your tears shone so brightly in the night, how you regretted him and he canât bring himself to be an inconvenience in your life again, he knows somewhere in his heart that he has taken enough. Even when he realizes you accidentally left with his blazer on, he doesnât call, he is too scared again to act so he just sits still and watches as life once again passes him by. He thinks he will get new cards and a new ID which is a pain and he should just text you at least but then if you sent his stuff back without even meeting him, then you would have truly no reason to talk again and even if it is selfish it is a line he is not willing to cut yet, he is not strong enough for that one yet.Â
By the fifth day Joost runs out of all the food at home and most importantly of all the beer, the only thing that is helping him sleep. So he decides to venture out, not that he particularly wants to, but he figures some day sooner rather than later he would have to pick up the pieces and start the arduous process of moving on from you, a process he has already delayed by a few years. He leaves home right at lunch time with some spare cash he had around and goes for the supermarket to pick only the essentials, he sees all sorts of people there, old couples and young parents with their kids and it makes him feel all the lonelier, he wishes you were with him, not that the two of you ever did that sort of domestic thing together but he wishes you would have, he thinks it would have been fun, even though in truth anything that involved you would be fun.Â
As he is making his way back to his place, bags in hand, his eyes linger on one of the restaurants he had recommended to you and all of a sudden there you are like a mirage, under the umbrella of one of the tiny outside tables surrounded by pink flowers with the sun generously illuminating your sweet face making you look ethereal. You take his breath away, you always do, his feet move before he can think it through he just canât stand living like this, knowing you are out there and he canât share in your days, bask in your laughter, drink from your beauty, it will drive him mad. As he crosses the street he can feel the vomit of words brewing at the back of his throat and all of his sentences start with âIâm sorry, please, please give me another chance, please let me prove I can be good for you.â He is not above begging he realizes.Â
But before he can talk, before he can even pretend for any longer that his fantasies where you forgive him and take him back will become real, a man approaches you from the other side of the table and as soon as you feel his presence you stand up with a bright smile on your lips, the kind he wishes he could pull out of you, you go to hug the stranger pressing yourself tightly to him. Joost imagines you smell heavenly, you must feel soft, your hair is shiny and you look so pretty and his heart breaks all over again. He is angry, he is angry at this man for daring smile at you, for daring touch you, he is angry at you for using his restaurant recommendations for another guy who isnât him, but most of all he is angry at himself, he canât forgive himself for losing you.Â
He stays in place watching from where he canât be seen, just twisting the knife deeper on himself. You are smiling and chatting happily, the way he wished you would have talked to him, and yet it is another man who has your tender eyes glued on him, it is another man who is taking you out for lunch, and it is another man who is making you laugh, not him, never him again, no matter how much he wants it. When you reach to grab your partnerâs hands he has to look away, he feels tears start falling from his eyes, he tries to furiously wipe them away but they keep coming, he is drowning in love and lost and the only one who could save him told him she didnât want anything to do with him. He finally gathers enough strength to walk away, and go back to his empty house to wallow in self pity, all alone again.Â
If he had ever paid any attention and ever had put in more care in getting to know you then he would have recognized that other man not as a stranger but as one of your closest friends and he would have realized that you were not in any sort of romantic date but just a real catch up with a friend, the kind you could never have with him because you werenât really friends. So instead of knowing any of that he continues for more days forming more and more imaginary scenarios inside his head of you with some other guy, you going on dates and holidays together, you going to restaurants and looking pretty under the candlelight, you moving in together and then getting married and then growing old all of which he canât be part of and it tears his heart to pieces. So he tries to drink himself to sleep trying to catch some dreamless rest that evades him. But even then he is unsuccessful because you appear on every corner of his mind, haunting his every thought and even when he is unconscious you show up laughing in his face, so cute and so out of reach. He remembers you, now more than ever, with a fresh image of what you look like, his memories become clearer, he remembers your face when you slept, every single detail and the expressions you made, he remembers the way you had looked like back when you told him you loved him and how he didnât say anything back, Why didnât he say anything back? Was the fear of things being real greater than his love for you? No, of course it wasnât but at the time he was too stupid to understand that, so now four years later like an idiot he keeps wishing he could turn back time and knowing he canât.Â
That night after you had left Joost you had continued to silently cry on the ride home until at some point without even noticing you stopped, but the ache in your heart didnât go anywhere it only became more prominent and uncomfortable with each passing day. Younger you had felt devastated she had hoped new you would be mature and smart enough to solve it, solve whatever it was you and Joost had going on. But even age and maturity couldnât help you when you didnât even know what you had with him to begin with. And truly this had all been a big mistake you shouldnât have gone seen him, no matter how much your heart ached for it. You had taken a long shower and gotten in bed in complete silence, too exhausted for anything else and fallen asleep with a dull ache pounding in your heart.
The morning after you had woken up late and with a splitting headache, everything had felt so surreal but when you saw his blazer on your chair you realized it actually did happen. You cursed yourself mentally for not giving it back, for taking it home and now you would have to see him again, but you could also take the easier way out and just have it delivered and avoid the whole interaction. Yet you donât, he had been honest with you that night, much more than in the almost whole year that you had known him before and now you felt guilty about how bad you had ended the night. You tell yourself it is best to cut things off cleanly this time, so there wonât be an infected wound like last time. So you end up looking inside his wallet for his ID and search his address up, you also find an old note you wrote him once half jokingly âVALID: For one kiss!â it reads, you had given it to him, written on the back of a grocery list, after you accidentally sat on one of his pairs of glasses and crushed them, he had just laughed it off even when you offered to pay but he had kept the piece of paper for some reason, it pains you and makes you want to cry all over again.Â
You donât show up to his house immediately, you canât. It was one thing to know what you should do as a responsible adult and a completely different thing to actually have the strength to do it. You have to wait some days to gather strength, you keep trying to distract yourself with work and some old friends but it is useless because every time you see his blazer on your chair you think of him and how you wish that instead of coming back to an empty house you were coming back to him sitting on that same chair, smoking cigarettes like he once did in your small apartment.
However, you decide that prolonging the inevitable is only doing you more harm than good so a little over a week after the dinner you show up to his address late in the after noon, right before evening, you had to hype yourself up the whole day to go there and have this conversation, that was assuming he was there. Just your luck when you ring he answers. He opens the door slowly and almost doesnât belive it is you.
âHi.â you say shyly.Â
He looks rough, he is pale, his hair is messy and his eyes look slightly red like he hasnât slept, there are also deep dark circles right under his pretty blues that now seem dimmed.Â
âHey.â His voice is shaky and nervous, he holds onto the handle of the door like if he lets go he will crumble right in front of you.Â
âUm, I forgot to give it back sorry.â You say raising the blazer in your hand.Â
âOh, it is okay.â He is dumbfounded, after that night he truly didn't expect to see you ever again and here you are. He is looking intently at your face like soon you will disappear, like this is just another one of his dreams he has been having all week where he sees you vanish right in front of him, but you donât.Â
âCan we talk?â You ask with worry in your face, he hates that, hates that every time he is involved you seem to be so on edge.Â
âSure, sure. Come in.â He moves from the door and lets you in, closes the door after you.
âCan I get you something to drink?â He brushes his hair out of his face, is thankful that he even managed to shower and change his clothes, at least today after a week of self pity.Â
âJust water thanks.â You say, he walks you to the living room, tells you to sit that he will be back in a second.
You do so, still holding onto the blazer tightly like a lifeline, you look around his place, it is much bigger than what he had in those days, a little less messy but still very much a bachelor house, it makes you a little happy even though you have no right to feel so, he is not yours and he never was, you have to keep reminding yourself. You are only here for closure, only that.Â
âHere.â He says sitting on the armchair next to the couch like he wants to give you space and not suffocate you.
âThanks.â You mumble taking a sip. You let a long minute go by before you open your mouth.Â
âIâm sorry about taking your jacket, and your wallet, I promise I didnât rack up thousands of euros on credit card debt.â You say with the smallest hint of a smile.
That gets a laugh out of him, it is the first time in days he feels anything that isnât dread and of course the only responsible could be you.
He smiles softly but there is a hint of sadness under it. The air feels heavy with tension and you just want to lighten it up, he looks so sad you want to ask what is wrong but the question dies in your throat not knowing how much you are allowed to overstep. You donât know what to say but you wish you could sooth him of whatever his worries are, if you were his girlfriend you could comfort him about whatever is bothering him, even if you were only his friends you could offer a helping hand, a kind shoulder to lean on, but since you are nothing you just keep your hands to yourself.Â
âThat is fine. I wouldnât mind.â He says, it is a little stupid but he truly wouldnât, if this was one of those problems you could just throw money at to solve he wouldnât mind spending millions to get another chance with you.Â
âAh! I forgot you had superstar money, then maybe I should have bought myself a car.â You smile mischievously at him.
He rolls his eyes at you, he knows you wouldnât but he finds you amusing nonetheless. âYou could do whatever you wanted.âÂ
For some reason it feels like he is not just talking about spending his money and you feel a little shy all of a sudden. You want to fill in the silence before it drowns you.Â
âIâm actually sorry for the inconvenience. Did you not need your cards?â You ask, leaving the blazer to the side.Â
âNo.â He pauses for a moment, thinks his next words carefully. âI just havenât been going out, I was busy.â Busy thinking about you, busy dreaming about you, busy pining after you, all so I could see you laughing at other assholeâs shitty jokes that arenât mine. He doesnât say that, he knows better than to say it but the uneasiness with which you look at him makes him all the more resentful about what he saw that day.Â
âI see.â You say, sensing a shift in tone. You fiddle with your fingers as you look around, there are a couple of pictures of him with friends it makes you smile, knowing he has people looking after him, people you recognize, at least some things remain unchanged, at least he is not alone.Â
You are distracted seemingly by the walls or not wanting to meet his eyes, whichever it is doesnât matter because you look so pretty in this light, in any light and you are biting your lip like you always did when you were nervous, it is so reminiscent of old days it envelops him in nostalgia, but you look so different now and at the same time you look like you could belong here, like you could really be his as he is already yours. Like you could wake up in his bed, your bed, and have breakfast together and then say good bye to come back home to dinner with you and shower together and fall asleep in each otherâs arms and then wake up and do it all over again, because you can.
And he distantly wishes he was a different man, the kind that could actually have those things with, the kind you could actually introduce to your friends and the kind you would be so happy to see like the guy at the cafe. He furrows his eyebrows, he doesn't want to think about that but the doubt itches in his mouth and he sort of wants you to confirm all his worst fears, that yes that other guy is the love of your life, that you couldnât be happier, that he is so much better than Joost, that Joost has always been way beneath you and that you will soon get married and have the life you have always wanted, the kind of life he could never give you. He wants to be put out of his misery and stop holding any hope that you will want him ever again so he doesnât stop himself before speaking and breaking the uncomfortable silence no matter how much it makes him feel like he is walking to his own execution.Â
âI saw you at the new restaurant the one near the supermarket the other dayâ He takes a small pause until he sees you make eye contact then continues. âWith your boyfriend.â The word comes out bitterly from his mouth making him uncomfortable with every syllable.Â
You look at him a little puzzled, have to make an effort to remember what he is talking about, then when you come up with the answer you break in laughter throwing your head back at his misunderstanding.Â
He is even more confused, he is hurt now, it is one thing for you to have a boyfriend and it is another to rub it in his face and laugh at him for still being so stupidly in love with you, he feels so dumb and inadequate but then you finally stop giggling and look at him from under long eyelashes with a warm smile while shaking your head and he forgets why he was even angry in the first place.Â
âThat is my friend, we were classmates in university.â You explain still between fits of laughter.Â
âOh,â Is all that he manages out.Â
âOh?â You repeat raising your eyebrows and looking at him amused, you scoot closer in the couch to get a better look at his face, he is blushing so prettily.Â
âWere you jealous Joost?â You crook your head to the side playfully, still so amused at how mortified he looks, he doesn't even want to meet your eyes.Â
âTell me~â You say in a sing song voice as you go even closer to him.
He wants to melt into the floor and avoid this, he feels so childish in his fit of jealousy now and all the sleepless night he spent having nightmare about your wedding day to some guy that isnât even your boyfriend. He finally takes a deep breath, still feels his skin burning hot with embarrassment but he makes the effort to look at you.Â
âYes I was.â He admits, he doesnât know why exactly he is so eager to admit it, it is not like he has the right to be jealous, but you had said âTell me.â and how could he ever deny you anything? He covers his face with a hand faking a cough so you wonât see how deeply red he has turned, but you do notice and you are still smiling at him. He likes this, he likes you, he likes having you close like this, even when you are laughing at him, he could be your jester he thinks distantly, he would be okay living like that as long as he could stay by your side.Â
You pull back further away and relax into the couch, he wishes you would have stayed closer, he swears he could smell your perfume or maybe it was just wishful thinking. You both just sit in silence for a while not saying anything but finally the silence doesnât feel daunting it just feels good, like there is finally some peace. You wish you could stay like this longer but any more indulging in these scenarios of the past and what ifs and you wonât want to leave his side, so you take a deep breath before trying to say anything. You turn your face to look at him and find him already watching you, it make you blush lightly but you still speak up.Â
âJoost Iâm really sorry about that night, I shouldnât have said that.â You donât turn your eyes away even when you want to, so overwhelmed by how penetrating his eyes feel on your face, you hold his gaze so he will know you are being sincere.Â
âOh, that is okay.â He says, his tone is nervous now, you can tell he is forcing a smile but you shake your head.Â
âIt was mean and unnecessary I shouldnât have, Iâm really sorry.â
He shrugs slightly, he wishes you werenât having this conversation now, he wanted to keep playing pretend in his head of what it would be like to have you here in his living room day after day always and forever without even talking because silence is just comfortable between you two.
âIf you meant it, it is all good. You were just honest.â He swallows deeply trying to sooth his nerves.Â
Why was he so kind of all a sudden? Who was this man? The more time you spend with him the less you felt you knew him, it frustrated you somehow.
âI was just cruel but I didnât think it would hurt you.â You say a little defeated.
âWhy would you think that?â He asks genuinely, there is no hint of anger or sadness in his tone, just genuine curiosity like he genuinely doesnât know.
You look up at him and shrug slightly. âI didnât think you cared about me enough for it to hurt.â
That is his fault fully and he just has to live with it but it doesnât make it hurt any less.Â
He gets up, moves to sit next to you on the couch, whatever happens is okay but you have to know how he really felt, you have to know how much he really cared for you no matter how unable he had been to show you, you at least deserved it now.
âCan I be honest?â You look at him and nod, donât trust yourself to speak right now, feel like tears might start streaming form your eyes any second.
âI really did like you, back then.â He stops for a second, wants to grab your hand but knows better.
âI actually loved you.â He says in a painful sigh. Your heart squeezes painfully.Â
âWhen you said it, I didnât know what to do, I was stupid and didnât say anything, I thought you would be there as long as it took me to say it back.â He shakes his head, feels so disappointed in his younger self.
âObviously not, I was idiotic and selfish and you deserved better than that.â He smiles bitterly knowing nothing that had happened could be changed.
You have to swallow hard to get yourself to speak. âWhy did you call me?â You ask shaky voice, eyes shining with tears threatening to spill over.
âI really missed you.â He shrugs a little and smiles sadly. âI wasnât lying there really is no one else like you.â
Your hands are trembling on your lap, you feel stuck, you canât move, canât speak and can barely breath you are dissolving into his living room couch, he recognizes the signs all too well from experience and grabs at your hand, holds tight while searching for your eyes.
âIâm here.â He says, his voice feels like it is coming from underwater.
âLook at me.â You force yourself to do so, you realize at some point you had started crying, he pulls your hand softly to his chest and splays your fingers on it.
âBreath with me okay?â You nod and follow as he does.Â
He takes deep breathes, keeps the air inside and then exhales slowly, you focus on the feeling, try to follow the best you can, you focus on his eyes he is looking deeply at you, blue was always your favorite color or it became after him, you are not too sure.
After what feels like hours of slow breathing you finally feel your heart beating a little slower. All of a sudden you feel so tired, you still feel like you are slowly coming down to earth. You let your head fall on his chest, hear his heart calm and slow, he feels like a rock you can cling to when you feel like drowning. In some more minutes you get your heart to match his.
âI really did love you Joost.â You whisper against him, now his heart picks up, you can feel it in the palm of your hand, like it is your own and in a way it always did belong to you even if you didnât know.
âI still love you.â He says.
You raise your head from his chest, look into his eyes.Â
âCan we try again?â
You donât answer, you can't, you donât know what to say truly so you just kiss him. It feels new and familiar at the same time, but undeniably him.Â
He feels his heart stop, has thought about this scenario so many times through the years of your absence, has dreamed about it and found solace on imagining it when he felt his loneliest but the reality is all the sweeter. You are really here in front of him kissing him deeply holding at his shoulders like he will slip away but he now knows there is no better place on this earth than in your warm embrace. He reacts belatedly, he wraps his arms around your middle holding you closer, chest against chest you can feel each other so real that it is scary and exciting all at the same time.Â
Four years of pent up feelings wash over you, you canât get enough you chase after his lips drink from his touch. It feels so familiar and delicious like getting home after a long vacation but also so different like you are new lovers just learning each othersâ bodies for the first time. You make a move to sit on his lap but stop unsure if you should but he is so sweet and he helps you brings you closer kisses at you neck, takes a deep whiff of your scent. Your perfume is not the same you used to use but underneath it is the aroma of your skin, undeniably you and it spurs him on.Â
You are making out on the couch like teenagers, almost like all the times you did in your tiny apartment but this time is his place and everything that surrounds you feels so much like him in a way that makes you lightheaded, back when you first met you had only been to his place a couple of times and it seemed like you werenât allowed to look but now you are drinking in every detail with curious eyes as he kisses on your throat. Hands are grabbing all over each other, neither of you can get enough, he feels sturdier, his arms seem bigger, the little tickling of the mustache is the same, he feels so warm you want to melt into him forever. You pull back from the heated kisses and make move to pull your shirt off but he stops you putting his hands over yours at the hem of the garment.Â
âWha-â You look so confused and almost frustrated with him, if he tells you to leave you donât think you could live down that humiliation.Â
But he is looking at you with so much lust, love and nostalgia all mixed into his deep blue eyes.Â
âI want to- bedâ His words are jumping all over the place, he is trying so hard, has waited so long for this, truly didnât think it would happen again but now he has you and he wants to take his time. âCan I take you to bed?â He ask it sounds weird, barely makes sense and yet you understand him perfectly.Â
âPlease do.â You say kissing him again and smiling against his lips.
He lifts you up easily and quickly, he grabs at your thighs from below the curve of your ass, wants to feel you up higher but is still anxious that he will scare you off, that all of this will become too real for you and you will scurry away like running water between his fingers. But you just hold him tighter as he walks to bed, his eyes stay on yours almost entranced on your face. When you finally make it to his bedroom he lets you down softly on the bed, he is so grateful for once he remembered to make it in the morning and just his luck today he also changed the sheets.Â
You are a divine sight he drinks you in, lips kissed red and face so deep with lust laying on his bed staring up at him waiting, a sight he thought he would never get to see again, he wants to burn this moment in his memory forever, he just blinks slowly at you and looks.Â
âJoost, come here.â You finally say when you see him just staring at you like he is in a daze.Â
He crawls on bed on top of you, slowly, still so unsure. Maybe he has craved you so much he has been hallucinating this whole thing but you grab at his arms and pull him closer to start planting little kisses on his jaw, his breath picks up, he closes his eyes to focus on the feeling of your soft lips, you grab at his face with your hands pull him closer to your lips, you kiss him deeply, he opens his mouth for you you push your tongue in slowly feeling him, just tasting him. He still smokes you can tell, if you work your brain extra hard you could guess it is still Camels. You smile to yourself, you can remember so many little things about him like he had never truly left your heart at all.Â
He sucks on your tongue, he wants to eat you whole, you taste delicious, you feel delicious at some point his hands make their way to your waist and now he has you against his chest again rubbing softly at the inch of skin that your shirt ridding up allows him. He feels so hot you feel so hot, your skin is so tender and soft it is better than he remembers, he wonders if you still use the same lotion you did back then. He grabs at the hem of your shirt looks up at you for confirmation and you nod. He lifts it up drinking in every inch of skin that his eye can reach, there you are, it is still you.Â
There are tan lines on you, he wonders where you went on vacation, he spent his last one in France, he went to a nice place by the beach, the kind that you would like, he wonders if you would let him take you there, just the two of you, already dreams of what you would look like wet from the ocean and glistening with the sun.Â
âYour mind is elsewhere, should we reschedule?â You say teasing him with a smirk.Â
And that hasnât changed either. âIf we stop I might die.â He pulls his shirt up, is already feeling so hot he might get heatstroke just from looking at you.Â
âHey! Donât do that. I want to undress you too.â You complain soft scowl and cute little pout on your lips, he wonders if you ever realize just how charming you are to him.Â
âIâve missed you.â He says in a whisper against your lips as he cages you between his arms again.Â
âWell you have me.âÂ
You grab at his neck pulling him down on top of you, your legs are tangled with his, his breath is deep, he is holding his weight on his forearms, doesnât want to crush you but you want to feel him all over you, you want to take everything he has to give you. He kisses along your jaw softly reaches at your neck and starts planting a delicious trail of open mouthed kisses down your throat, bites softly at your collar bones, you pull away laughing at it but he holds you closer to him. He places kisses all over the skin on your shoulder then down to your chest and buries his head in the valley of your breasts, you giggle, he always had his fixations and this one hasnât changed at all. His hands are playing with the band of your bra shyly swiping his fingers underneath as he continues to kiss you.Â
He looks up at you resting his cheek on one of your breasts. âCan I?â He has the worst case of puppy eyes ever, it reminds you why it was so hard to say no to him.Â
âIâm yours.â You smile softly at him pulling your fingers between strands of his soft hair.Â
He looks so baffled. So overwhelmed with emotion he becomes that he quickly raises from where he is and crashes into your mouth pushing you into bed almost too hard.
âLifde.â He whimpers against your lips before kissing you deeply, like he is trying to convey years of unsaid things in just one kiss.Â
His hands roam softly on your back, you feel so warm. Finally he reaches for the clasp of your bra and unhooks it without separating from your mouth for a second like if he did he would drown. The garment falls down your arms, he admires your soft forms mouth agape and eyes shiny. He reaches a hand to massage at your breast, he is hypnotized by the way the fat gives under his finger tips, by the heat of your skin, the way your nipples pebble immediately at the first touch like your body recognizes him and comes back to life.Â
âYou are so beautiful.â His voice is deep and heavy with lust, your legs wrap around his hips and pull him closer just to share in his heat.Â
He continues playing softly with your mounds, goes to kiss at the thin skin, wraps his lips around your nipples and sucks softly until he has you whining and pushing your chest against his face, his big hands holding at your middle pulling you against him just holding you impossibly closer to him like he wants to dissolve inside your ribcage listening to the beat of your heart forever. You feel him so hard under you, his length pressing right against your own core through the layers of fabric, your hips start grinding against his without even meaning to, moving on its own like your body recognizes his and has missed him so much, moving solely on instinct you don't even have to think.Â
Your cunt is throbbing with desire, you feel yourself so wet, the fabric of your panties sticking uncomfortably to you. It feels so hot and you just want tot touch him directly.Â
âJoost.â You mewl under him trying to get his attention but he continues licking incessantly at your nipples pinching and pulling lightly with his hands to the sensitive skin.Â
Your hands are at his shoulder grabbing tightly but when you see he is not even listening you move them downwards one hand going between the two of you to palm him through his jeans. He moans around your nipple at the contact and then sucks harder trying to get as much of your flesh in his mouth as he can. You continue to stroke him lightly then stronger, faster, you feel him moaning and bucking his hips into your touch, chasing after the friction when you tighten your grip he all of a sudden stops his bucking hips and pulls away from you, leaving your nipples covered in his spit, swollen and shiny on the light of his room.Â
âIf you keep going Iâm gonna cum in my pants.â He says truthfully looking up at you with big eyes. You laugh, he is so blunt and honest, it is still hard to get used to it but it is so terribly endearing.
âNot like it would be the first time.â You say grinning wildly.Â
âLiefde.â He whines scrunching his eyebrows and letting a soft blush adorn the high of his cheekbones. âThat was one time and I was drunk.â He is turning an ever deeper shade of pink right in front of your eyes, you distantly wonder if anyone else is able to make him melt like this, if anyone is able to tease all these reactions out of him and you remember his words âThere really is no one else like you.â and you smile to yourself contently.Â
âTake them off.â You say going for the zipper of his pants and dragging down, he lets you, he feels like he can barley breath seeing you almost naked on his bed and undressing him is a dream he thought would never come true again.Â
He helps you pull the pants down and kicks them off bed along side his boxers that are sporting a big wet spot right at the tip of his erection. Then he goes to grab at the waist of your jeans and undoes the button before pulling down softly watching your beautiful legs emerge from the fabric. His hands go to your legs slowly inching upwards, massaging the soft muscle, feeling the smooth skin. You lay back down and just stare at him, he has some new tattoos, he has gained some wight, his chest hair is still there but is darker now same as the happy trail and all the beauty marks you remember and the ones you donât as well. He has changed and he is still in there somewhere, recognizable but different and even better because this time it is real and not just pretend.Â
He bends down to place kisses at your thighs almost reverent like you are a divinity that has wondered into his house. He keeps moving higher up until he is right at your core, he kisses over the fabric of your underwear then looks up at you, you nod approvingly before he moves to part your legs. He grabs at the back of your thighs and quickly pulls you closer to him. Gets in the middle and starts planting kisses all over your legs and between them, the skin is so soft there he tries to rub his face against it as covertly as he can and fails miserably because you are looking directly at him seeing how eager and needy he is just makes you hotter.Â
He kisses over the lace of your underwear, his lips are plump and soft, you hated to admit it but nobody gave head like him. He truly enjoyed it, the closeness, the wet feel on his mouth the scent of your core deep in his nose in an addicting way. He kisses and licks through the fabric and your hips are pushing against his face, he goes to hold you down, he wants to take his time remembering every place, every tender touch that had you melting into his mouth. His eyes are closed and eyebrow scrunched in complete concentration. He is licking through the fabric applying sweet pressure on your clit but holding you tightly by the hips so you will let him set the pace. Little curses escape your lips as you whine into the air for him. âMore Joost more.â You plead looking down at him with big wet eyes. He opens his eyes slowly, can barely make contact from his position but he wants to look at you all the same, wants to give you everything and anything you ask for.
He moves the fabric to the side and takes a deep lick into your core that has you twitching on his mouth, he spreads your folds open with his fingers and sucks your clit between his lips as you moan uncontrollably. When you both would do this in your apartment he would have to cover your mouth with one hand as he worked the other deep inside you because you were so deliciously loud all the way through, but you got complaints form the neighbors on more than one occasion that had you furiously blushing red even if to him it just filled him with pride that he could make you scream his name so loud; however now at his place you can be as loud as you want, as vocal as you can, he eats your sounds up and it pushes him forward, makes him suck at your clit harder feeling it twitch between his lips, makes him lick deeper like his jaw is not going to ache but for your pleasure any discomfort is worth it. He pushes his ring finger inside of the tender muscle of your core and feels you clamp down on him immediately, so needy and so sensitive already. He thinks it is a pity you mustnât have had anyone to do this for you all these years when it should have been him always ready and mouth eager to please you.Â
He pushes another finger into you, your hips rock hard against his hand like you are trying to get him deeper. You taste delicious, it is better than his fantasies, it is all you. His finger pump deep into you as he keeps trying to reach that spot that used to have you melting and when he finally finds it you all but scream and curse, there are tears falling from your eyes but it is all from pleasure and you look so beautiful, his eyes are glued on your face he wants to make sure he is making you feel good, making it worth your time now that you have give him this chance. He sneaks a hand upwards softly caressing your belly up to your chest and grabbing at one of your breasts and softly massaging feeling the pebbled nipple between his finger still wet form his spit and so hard begging for attention, he pinches at the sensitive skin and feels your cunt react immediately gushing on his fingers. His mouth is still connected to your sensitive bundle of nerves but you feel him moaning wildly, see how he is humping against the mattress, there is a wet spot of his pre-cum on the bedding that he doesnât seem to care about, all but hypnotized with your pretty face and lascivious sounds.Â
You take his hand, the one that is kneading at your chest, and pull it towards your mouth, you grab at his fingers and put them in your mouth letting the soft wet muscle of your tongue slide between them before you close your lips and suck greedily around them, it goes straight to his dick, he has to make a superhuman effort to not finish right then and there, he moans so deeply right against your clit you can feel your orgasm threatening to wash over you any second but you donât want it like this, you want to feel him, now that you finally have him you want it all.Â
You pull his fingers out of your mouth wet and shiny with spit and pull yourself slightly from his embrace before speaking in labored tone.
âJoost come here, kiss me.âÂ
He slowly pulls away from you with a slightly confused expression, he pulls his finger out of you softly but you still wince when you feel how empty you are without them. He crawls over you, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and asks.Â
âWas it bad?â He looks genuine and a little disappointed.Â
You laugh, that he could ever think that when you are all but melting on his palms and you were one shy lick away from coming in his mouth.Â
âYou are the best but I want to cum with you.â You explain.Â
You cup his face on your hands and pull him into a deep kiss tasting yourself on his tongue it so erotic and nostalgic it makes you feel like you are in that tiny apartment so many years ago. You pull away slightly and sit up on bed, and pull your underwear down your legs.
His dick hangs heavy between his thighs, the tips is red and glistening with pre-cum you bite your lip in anticipation. Even if you liked to pretend like you didnât, you had seen him just like this naked and ready for you on your dreams many times over the years but now you finally had him in front of you and you were so hungry for it. You take him in your palm stroke softly at the velvety skin, feel him twitch under your touch, you bend down a little and look at him through half lidded eyes.Â
âCan I?â You ask already licking your lips in anticipation, you have missed him so much he was always so vocal you want to hear his pretty sounds again, feel his warmth on your tongue and the way he fills your mouth.
 He looks at you with eyes full of adoration and caresses at your cheek with tattooed knuckles.
âI would love nothing more liefde, but if you do that I wonât last at all.â He says smiling brightly. His younger self would have probably bragged about his endurance then avoided even looking at you to not cum too fast but the man in front of you right now is so honest, he is naked but more than anything you feel he has stripped his soul bare, all for you.Â
âOkay, yeah.â You nod stupidly, you donât know what to say, he keeps dolling out loving words onto you and it is frying your brain slowly. You push your hair behind your ear to distract your hands. âHow do you- how do you want me?â You ask timidly feeling shy all of a sudden like it is your first time and the way he is being so gentle and loving it might as well be.Â
âCan you lay back down for me?â He asks, you nod and slowly, lay on bed again waiting for him. You donât know what to do with your hands, you just rest them on your chest and feel how rapidly your heart is beating, you start getting shy all of a sudden. He looks so beautiful so grown, his arms are bigger, his face is more handsome, he feels like a stranger and you start getting timid that perhaps you donât know him at all. He sees the hesitation in your eyes and asks softly as he caresses at your cheek.Â
âAre you with me?â
âYeah, yeah.â You nod affirmatively and smile fondly. âI just- I canât belive it is you.âÂ
He knows what you mean, he feels it himself. It is all so new but so old and rehearsed at the same time, he knows you, he knows it is you, and yet he also feels in awe of the person you have become while he was gone from your life.Â
He nods overwhelmed with emotion to speak. You see how his eyes get shiny, you reach for his arms and feel the warm muscle beneath your palms as you pull him closer. You kiss at his cheek, at the corner of his lips, at the stray tear that escapes him.Â
âYou okay? We can stop if you want to.â You whisper softly massaging at the muscle of his shoulders.Â
He shakes his head, sniffles softly and kisses you. âI am better than ever beforeâ He says finally smiling ear to ear. Â
âOkay.â You say smiling and laying back down.Â
You spread your legs for him, he comes closer in the space between your thighs, you can feel the heat emanating from his body just a breath away. He grabs at your thighs and wraps your legs around his waist, now you are flush, your sexes barely touching it feels like kissing. His hand moves from the muscle of your thigh slowly up your belly resting on your navel, he is just feeling you, trying to memorize the feel of your body under him all over again. He looks at you and you nod at him, sometimes there is no need for words.Â
He grabs his length in one hand and pumps himself a couple times before he lines himself up with you entrance. He pushes in you slowly, his bulbous tip catches on the wet warm muscle of your hole that all but flutters around him. Inch by inch he melts in your heat, his eyes stay on yours all the way to the point you have to look away to stay sane but he pulls you back with one gentle hand on your chin so he can see you, he has missed you so much, it has been so long, he has not stopped thinking about you for a single moment and he refuses to lose another minute. When he finally bottoms out he takes a deep breath and rest his forehead against yours, his skin is shinny with sweat and you must feel yours is too but you are too concentrated on the way his lips are but an inch from yours, how his breath is so warm and you are breathing it in, he becomes the air that you breath.Â
Joost finally starts to move after a long minute of just feeling himself inside you, how your warm walls cling to him and pulse all around his length, he pulls away softly but not fully, his tip stays inside your heat before he pushes back in in swift motion. He had never been a selfish lover but now he seemed absolutely laser focused on your pleasure only, thrusting deeply inside you in fast hard motion then pulling out painfully slow, you keep gushing around him feeling yourself become closer to the edge by the second. He keeps his eyes trained on yours all the way. He caresses at the skin of you cheek and you chase his touch completely shameless pushing your head against his hand to feel more of him. You are moaning into each otherâs mouths, drinking in each otherâs sounds.Â
He feels he wonât last long, he sits up slightly leaving you so lonely without his lips but you forgive him when his hand goes to the middle of your legs and he spreads your lips apart to press constant circles on your hard clit sending waves of pleasure up your spine.Â
âYou feel amazing schat.â He says when you clench on him at the added stimulation.
âI thought about you all the time.â He whimpers with a deep thrust.
âI can't believe I get to do this with you again I didnât think it would happen.â He confesses as he pulls out, he canât seem to stop his mouth.
âIâm never letting you go.â He thrust deeply into you again, your clit twitching under his thumb you feel your orgasm quickly building again all around him, walls pulsing wildly as he moves inside you.Â
His words have you dizzy, his dick inside you feels divine pushing and pulling at your sensitive walls and his relentless deft fingers on your clit are threatening to send you over the edge any second, you think he must feel it the way you are throbbing on his length and gushing all over his cock.Â
âIâm close Joost, donât stop.â You whimper.Â
He keeps the same rhythm that is quickly bringing you to your peak. You look so beautiful, your skin is covered in sweat, you hair is wild and tussled on his pillows, on his bed, your body splayed so beautifully on his mattress, he feels like you belong here, he wants you to belong here with him forever. He canât stop the words from spilling from his mouth.Â
âI love you.â
You cum, you gush all over him, clenching impossibly tighter on him, so much it makes his own hips stutter. Wild tears fall from your eyes as your hips move on their own trying to ride the rest of your high on him, you are breathing heavily you can only hear the pump of your blood on your own ears, you feels like you are falling back to earth rapidly.Â
He still feels the beautiful spams of your release on his length as he watches stupefied how you cum and stays still while you ride your high on his dick just letting you enjoy your pleasure and catch you breath. Then he bends down to be closer to you, to kiss at your pretty lips.Â
âJust a little more schat.â He promises against your ear, you nod dumbly unable to speak at all, you feel like he is taking you through a perpetual never ending orgasm that washes all over your body.Â
His movements get more uncoordinated but he is still chasing his high as he holds you in tender hands, he keeps whispering soft words at you and little i-love-yous accompanying every move, you donât really reply, you canât, so you just kiss him back softly. He lets you, now it is you who needs time and if anything the years have made him more patient, not perfect but just better and you are worth all the wait it takes.Â
He is hypnotized by the sight, by the way your bodies melt into each other the way your core keeps dripping sweet honey all over him, he knows you were made for each other, he wants you to know it too. He lets go of your thighs and goes to grab at your neck lifting your head softly from where it rests on the pillows.Â
âLookâ He says, his voice sounds like he is right inside your head.
He angles your head so you see where you are connected, you see his length disappear inside you and then see him again as he pulls out over and over again like waves crashing on the beach.
âHold your legs for me.â You canât reply, you become hypnotized by the sight as well, you wrap your hands around your knees and do as he says, he could probably talk you into anything right now.Â
He leans over almost folding you in half, your muscles will be sore tomorrow but right now the stretch is so delicious you feel like you are alive for the first time in a long while all your nerves standing on fire.
âLook, we were made for each other.â He says all gone, completely lost in pleasure and the way you all but melt around him he might be right.Â
You look up at him and he does the same, your eyes lock as his hips thrust deeply into you one last time as he comes deep into your walls painting everything with his thick release, he moans your name loudly, his hips stutter into yours, all uncoordinated with the last of his release, you hold onto him like he is a life vest, he almost closes his eyes from pleasure but makes the effort to keep them trained on your face all through it.Â
âI love you.â He whimpers with a last thrust and you pull his face to yours to kiss him.Â
He collapses onto you, his weight feels delicious if only a little suffocating, but you caress at the tired muscles of his arms, at his back, at his shoulders and neck as you slowly bring him down to earth to you again. You feel his heart beating rapidly inside his ribcage and his breaths are shallow as he tries to compose himself. You hold him through all of it and play with the hair at the nape of his neck that you have missed so much. You feel him soften inside you but you wish you could stay like this forever, eternally connected.Â
Finally he gathers what little strength he has left and rolls over onto his back next to you in bed. He is still breathing heavy but he looks over at you so enamored, he brushes the hair away from your face to look at your properly as if he is doing it for the first time and you give him a smile in return. All blissed out and fucked out you truly are an angel come to life on his bed and he canât fully belive it yet.
After a long moment just breathing slowly and looking at you he swallows deeply and pulls himself together for what he now knows he has to do. He rolls on his side so he can look at you better and you can feel he has something to say so you follow and do the same watching him expectantly. He clears his throat before speaking.Â
âI really meant it, can we try again?â He asks looking deeply into your eyes.Â
âI don't know.â You say honestly, seeing him was great, it would be a lie to say there werenât butterflies in your stomach but you didnât know what to do with that.Â
âWe can start from scratch.â He offers, you laugh at that.Â
âYeah how? We already know each other.â You say, he shakes his head.
âWe have changed a lot.â He is right, he has become so mature you barley recognize him at all and you are also not the same it would be unfair to say so.Â
âSo what do we do?â You ask truthfully looking at him expectant.Â
The Joost you had met would have probably shrugged and changed the topic but the one right now in front of you smiles back, pretty dimples adorning his face and says.
âI am Joost Klein, born and raised in Friesland, I am 26, I am a dancer, video editor, rapper and international super start amongst others, nice to meet you.â
He extends his hand at you waiting for you to shake it.
You think about it for a second, seeing his pretty eyes looking at you all sparkly and sweet, it takes you right back to the first time you met but now you are both so different it truly feels like it happened a life time ago. There is no point in thinking about it anymore, those people no longer exist, whatever they did is not part of today anymore and more importantly they were a little bit stupid.
So you extend your hand to shake his, the skin feels warm and still so soft. You like him, you think you do, maybe it is nostalgia, maybe in a few weeks, maybe in a few months you will realize this is not what you want and maybe that is okay, but right here right now he is looking at you full of hope and you want to share some of it, so you pull yourself closer let him wrap his arms around you and kiss him deeply. Tonight the sky is full of stars and you feel the nice warmth of his body lull you to sleep. You can dream in his embrace of a good future were you actually figure it out together and who knows maybe this time you can because this time he loves you and he actually says it.Â
âââ ââ
ââ
â âââ
MASTERLIST *à©â©â§âË A/N: Thank you so much for reading this ended up being very long! Let me know your thoughts/comments pls and sorry for any mistakes my brain is fried lol! -`âĄÂŽ-
#joost klein#joost klein smut#joost klein x reader#joost x reader#joost x you#joost#joost smut#joost fanfic#joost klein fanfiction
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More Foodfight! Material DISCOVERED
That's right, I'm back. Just like I prophesized in my last post, yet another treasure trove of Foodfight! goodness has been uncovered, and this might be one of the strangest to date...that's right, official Foodfight! Cinnamon Sleuth Cereal was sold at Albertsons back in 2007, over five years before the movie finally came out!
Okay, not really, but I had you going for a second, right? So, this IS a proposed packaging design for actual Cinnamon Sleuth cereal, but it never went into production, it never made it to stores and there was certainly never any actual cereal to be eaten. This, among several other designs and a collection of behind the scenes material, was sent in recently by a Foodfight! crewmember, who explained they were mockups created to show off possible tie-in products. I'm not sure why they chose Albertsons for these mockups but it's likely they were in talks with them at the time and wanted to show off designs including their branding. In any case, I just had the Cinnamon Sleuth box printed because I thought it'd look cool next to my collection of Foodfight! merchandise, and I wanted to see if anyone would be convinced this really existed.
I've included all the designs above in case you want to print your own- there are several more including another cereal, brownie packaging and milk cartons. Curiously, the milk cartons have Farmland Dairy logos on them, with Farmland Milk actually appearing in the finished film at several points. I'd say this confirms my theory these mockups were created to show to companies they were already actively working on deals with, but I can't say for certain that was the case.
Equally curious are these character sheets from 2002, seemingly showing off almost every model created during early production. There are so many fascinating layers to this- Sunshine is still a human instead of a catgirl, showcasing a very different model to the one seen in the initial trailer, and Maximilius Moose is still a dog named Panzer Pup, both aspects that were changed once the decision was made to change Dex to a dog. However, it may be that Dex's human design was edited out and replaced after the fact, given Dex's model here appears to be the one from the finished film (you can tell by the weird hands). In any case, it's fascinating to get a closer look at all these characters- while the majority of the models for the main cast were found recently (see my last post for more on this), there are a bunch of side characters here we've only seen brief glimpses of before, including the Pringles man and the scantily-clad Cherry Waifer. The most fascinating to me however are the Red and Yellow M&Ms- I've read through their scene in the movie's script, I've seen multiple versions of the storyboard, even rough layout animation in the workprint, and it's only now I'm FINALLY getting to see their actual character models and how they would've looked in the Foodfight! artstyle. Sure, they more or less look exactly as they did in M&M commercials that aired around the same time, but it's still amazing to actually see these characters modelled and rendered after analyzing so many different iterations of the scene as it went through development.
The crewmember in question also sent a folder containing over a hundred stills which while at first glance appear to be from the finished movie, are actually subtly different in multiple ways- usually lighting, facial expressions, or background textures like the sky or color of a hill. A lot of these are labelled "fix" which makes me speculate if after the movie was completed, the crew went back and tried to touch up the animation to make it look more appealing before release. Is there a slightly better looking version of Foodfight! somewhere out there in the world? Who knows, but really it would've been like trying to polish a turd. The movie was already ruined by then, and I don't think any number small changes would've done much to salvage it. However, that does bring me to my next interesting point...
There are also storyboards dated May 2011, depicting an alternate opening to the movie giving a much more cinematic introduction to the main characters. It's crazy to think they were still working on storyboards so late in production, but there IS actually a reason for this. I unfortunately can't upload the entire sequence due to this site's image limit, but what you might notice are a lot of characters being described as "flying over the audience", "flying into the camera" or knocking things "into the audience", with some of the boards having "(3D)" written in parenthesis next to them. It's my belief that very late into production, Kasanoff wanted the movie to be 3D, made popular by the then-recent Avatar, and this new opening sequence full of flashy 3D effects was drawn up to show off what they could do with the technology. It's not clear if any of this was ever actually animated, but imagine going to see a movie that advertises itself as 3D but only the first minute contains any 3D elements. Of course, Kasanoff requesting this is only speculation on my part, but given how the movie was ruined by the crew having to cater to his whim of directing the whole thing with motion capture (made popular by the then-recent Polar Express) it's no stretch to assume the 3D opening sequence was a similar situation.
There's a ton more that was sent to us as well, so much so that I could never hope to talk about all of it. However, it should be on archive.org at the time of writing this if it isn't already, and you can now access everything Foodfight! related through the official Foodfight! collection on there!
That's right, so much Foodfight! material has been uploaded over the past year that the Internet Archive gave it its own archive, allowing you to find everything in one convenient place (including my scans of the novelization and Deluxe Sound Storybook). It'll also be updated periodically whenever something new is found, so it'll always be the home to all things Foodfight!. Whether you're wanting to take a look at some concept art shown in ROTTEN: Behind The Foodfight, read through an early draft of the script, or check out something I've talked about on my blog, it's all here at your fingertips.
I don't think there's ever really going to be an end to the depth of the Foodfight! rabbithole. I thought I was done a year ago when I finished analyzing the novelization, and look at everything that's been found since then. Every time I think I'm out, this movie pulls me back in. So...in my next post I'll FINALLY show off my collection of Foodfight! merchandise and talk about what this movie means to me, but that doesn't mean it's the end for this blog. Whenever I say I'm done with Foodfight! I end up jinxing it, so if I try to conclude things now in a few months some CD will show up with a bunch of lost footage on it, I'll get mailed concept art of a bunch of characters we've never seen before, or it'll turn out Larry Kasanoff was actually D.B. Cooper the whole time. So as long as there's something new to discuss, as long as there's a Foodfight to be fought, I'll keep updating this blog from now until forever. You better duck when they launch the cream pies!
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Sooo has anyone else noticed that Chaos Sonic seems to know things about Sonic that he logically shouldn't?
He constantly brings up Sonic's failures, describes him as looking "sad and pathetic" and being "tragic" when Sonic doesn't even look upset, and seems to have inherited chili dogs as his favorite food to boot.
But the Chaos Council doesn't know about Sonic's biggest failures. They don't know that he feels sad about anything, or that he likes chili dogs. Not even Nine knows these things in detail, and even if he did, we're not given any indication that he told the Council anything after giving them the initial idea for Chaos Sonic by accident.
And yet, he takes every opportunity to poke at Sonic's insecurities, even targeting his friends and blaming him for getting them hurt.
How does he know Sonic well enough to make these kinds of targeted remarks? I like that he can, it leads to a lot more interesting interactions than if he couldn't, but what's the in-universe explanation?
Well, Sonic absorbed some of the Prism's energy when it shattered, and Chaos Sonic was created mostly with the energy from the shards. While this could give them a sort of mental connection, it doesn't seem to go both ways, and I have a slightly more specific theory for how it all works.
That being: I think the Prism itself knows Sonic. Which is kind of a bold claim, I think, but hear me out.
First of all, the energy that's in Sonic's body (once tempered with Nine's tech of course) adapts his gloves and shoes to his environment in ways that'll protect him. New Yoke doesn't require anything special, but the Boscage Maze has tall trees that are difficult to climb, so it gives him retractable claws. No Place is filled with water, and Sonic can't swim, so he gets hover shoes to keep him afloat even if he falls in.
That's a suspicious amount of intent going on there, isn't it? And they appear the instant Sonic enters a new world, so he doesn't even encounter the obstacles his clothes are protecting him from before getting them. It's like the energy already knows what the world is like and what Sonic's capabilities are.
Secondly, Shadow reacts physically to the giant sparkly specter of Tails that shows up in the void, which tells me that those are all Actual Things that the Prism conjured up.
And that's. kind of weird, right? I just assumed these were symbolic of memories flashing through Sonic's head, but I guess they're also flashing through space itself, which I will admit did get a laugh out of me the first time I watched it
(They might not be "memories" exactly since we never flashback to when these lines were originally said, but they're certainly Something that came from Sonic's head so my point still stands)
Finally, when the Chaos Council uses the Prism energy to make the Giant Eggman, it specifically takes the form of the original. That didn't come from Mister Doctor's imagination - that's how Sonic remembers Eggman.
Not to mention, they keep hammering home how uniquely linked Sonic is to the Prism, so why not have it be the other way around? I'm not saying that the Paradox Prism has to have any kind of sentience for this theory to work (in fact I'd be surprised if it did), but it could be acting as a sort of container for data on Sonic, just like how Sonic is a container for its power.
And if that's the case, then it explains how Chaos Sonic knew so much; he's tapped into that very data bank from the get-go. It also complicates the question of how to restore the Prism a bit, because yeah Sonic might have to put his energy back into it, but does the Prism have to give anything back to him in return?
Regardless of the answer, I'm really looking forward to learning more about how the Paradox Prism works (and also any potential future Chaos Sonic appearances because I loved every moment he was on screen)
#sonic the hedgehog#sonic prime#sonic prime spoilers#chaos sonic#analysis#meta#*deconstructs the lore of the whole show to explain why Chaos Sonic likes chili dogs* another day well spent
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Due to not being able to find a decent reference for Danse's room, I used this video to sketch out a floor plan!!
Along with references for what all the furniture looks like:
Details and rambling below the cut!
General notes:
The only time we see his room is after Blind Betrayal. I wonder if he brought anything from his room with him, despite leaving the duffle bag near the door?
He has a ton of storage space. Like, a lot. He doesn't even have a footlocker at the end of his bed it's just an entire metal box.
Despite that, he has nowhere to sit. Not even his desk has a chair.
Also he has a rug between his bed and his big drawer! Cute!
Pet food bowl near his door with fresh bloatfly meat in it. Not only does he manually open the door for Emmett to enter and leave (no cat door), but Emmett visits often enough that he goes out of his way to give him a bowl of fresh food! Does Quinlan even feed him!?
Has a lot of random cardboard boxes filled with papers and stuff on his floor. Given that the filing cabinet is for files, I wonder if these are books or journals?
Has a plain old bed with no pillows or blankets. Like most beds, this is probably done for game reasons (like animations or clipping) instead of canon reasons. At least I HOPE he sleeps with a blanket!!
On top of his safe is three dog food cans, maybe supposed to represent cat food. Also has a can of cram on his big drawer. I wonder if he stores more food in there!
The flag is actually a smaller one, but I couldn't find the exact model on the wiki. I find it interesting that he has a pole flag instead of a regular wall one. It just looks so sad :(
Has a lot of small blue and wood boxes around his room that I didn't include in the floor plan, they're empty I'm pretty sure
I didn't realize people outside of middle school used lockers, especially SIX of them. What do you even store in lockers?? Can't be clothes since they have multiple segments, hung clothes wouldn't fit and folded clothes would probably fall out.
No real personal stuff like holotapes or journal entries. I would have expected something unique! He also has no decorations other than that one sad droopy flag, but I guess it'd be hard to hang up paintings when the walls are made of metal. Can't just hammer a nail into that!
As a note, I think items within storage containers are randomized, so I didn't bother looking at them while making this.
Desk and filing cabinet:
Whisky and vodka bottles, no shot glass in sight. He is chugging those straight from the bottle. Not as many bottles as Maxson, at least!
Also an entire carton of cigarettes and an ashtray. He canonically smokes and doesn't even bother going outside to do it, his room must reek of cigarettes.
A food tray and mug, which is... interesting? Does he often eat alone in his room?
Filing cabinet for files, probably does paperwork at this desk as well.
Drawers:
Has like, three wrenches, as well as a tool box. This must be his workshop!
A lunch pail and a nuka cola. This table is right next to his desk so it makes sense he has food and drinks here. Surprised there's no water!
Speaking of the table... it's an institute table. Probably just done for aesthetic purposes, but I found that interesting
Let me know if you have any opinions, headcanons, or things I missed!
#glad to know danse canonically stands in his room (no chairs) eating his dinner with Emmett instead of at the mess halls#and he has many cardboard boxes of random papers he refuses to throw away#my man becomes more autism coded by the day#fallout 4#paladin danse#brotherhood of steel#fallout lore#idk can i tag this as my art???#my art
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Finding Fascism in My Hero Academia
Being a 4-part project to compare the Meta-Liberation Army, the Heroes, and the meta-narrative messaging of My Hero Academia to Umberto Eco's evergreen Ur-Fascism and its 14-point list of beliefs, ideologies, and cultural hang-ups that can serve as flashpoints for fascism.
This was inspired by ongoing aggravation with the crappy rhetoric used to talk about the MLA, especially in Twitter circles. I had already been thinking about writing this piece anyway, but some ragebait brought to my Tumblr inbox together with the massive letdown of the canon ending pushed me over the edge into what eventually ballooned into several months of work and thirty thousand words about how My Hero Academia makes some expressions of fascism really easy to spot while hiding others behind a double-thick wall of double-standards.
Read some excerpts below! Or read the first part on my Patreon, no membership required.
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Are the MLA fascist? How fascist exactly, and in what ways? More to the point, are they noticeably more fascist than the broader society in which they existâthe society Heroes fight to uphold!âwith its indefinite torture prisons and its laws restricting bodily autonomy and its rampant discrimination against multiple different demographics of people?
To answer those questions, first we have to define our term: what is fascism, anyway?
The trick to that question is that âfascismâ is infamously squirrely and difficult to pin down to a single, all-encompassing yet concise definition. Wikipedia has a dedicated page solely for definitions of fascism, entirely separate from the page for fascism itself. It contains a wide sampling of definitions offered by reference books, scholars, Marxists, Fascists themselves, and a number of others. At the bottom of the page is a subsection labeled âFascism as an insult,â in which can be found the following quote from a writing by George Orwell in 1944:
âThe word âFascismâ is almost entirely meaningless. In conversation, of course, it is used even more wildly than in print. I have heard it applied to farmers, shopkeepers, Social Credit, corporal punishment, fox-hunting, bull-fighting, the 1922 Committee, the 1941 Committee, Kipling, Gandhi, Chaiang Kai-Shek, homosexuality, Priestly's broadcasts, Youth Hostels, astrology, women, dogs and I do not know what else... Except for the relatively small number of Fascist sympathizers, almost any English person would accept âbullyâ as a synonym for âFascist.â That is about as near to a definition as this much-abused word has come.â
It would be entirely possible for me to find definitions of fascism that would let me say, âNo, the MLA arenât fascist at all.â For example, over half of the definitions on the Wikipedia page mention some variation of nationalism explicitly: ultranationalism, militaristic nationalism, revolutionary nationalism, hypernationalism, or a more expansively worded version of âsubordinating the individual to the State.â If you exclude the definitions offered by Marxist sources, who have a pretty different paradigm around fascism, that count jumps up to three-quarters! So if weâre operating under definitions used by people who have actually put in some thought and research, the MLA canât even pass one of the most common, basic criteria: they are in no sense of the word nationalist.
Case closed! People on the internet need to learn what words mean, The End.
âŠBut letâs go back to Orwell for a second. He also said that, while the definitions can be fuzzy, people generally know what they mean when they throw the label around. So, what do people generally mean?
I think the definition that most gets at that is a 14-point list that Iâve seen circulating around Tumblr for years, and has recently started to come up more frequently on my radar given the state of politics in the U.S. The list is part of an essay called Ur-Fascism written by one Umberto Eco in 1995. Eco grew up in Fascist Italy and researched fascism as an ideology extensively as an adult; his tack was to approach the roots of the ideology, identifying a number of commonalities that one could view as symptoms of or warning signs for the rise of fascism in a groupâhence the essayâs alternate title of Eternal Fascism. Not every state or government described as fascist would possess all of these traits, but even a single one being present in a group could potentially serve as a point that fascism could coalesce around.
I have seen Ur-Fascism described as uselessly vague or overly broad, but the point is that it isnât a definition of fascism itself, but a description of the kinds of mentality or circumstances that can give rise to fascist ideology. Given that I know for a fact Ecoâs checklist does the rounds on Tumblr and thus may inform the understanding of any number of fans who are using the fascist label more colloquially than with an eye to strict accuracy, and also given that the MLA succinctly fails to meet a primary criterion for fascism proper, I want to look at them instead through the Ur-Fascism lens.
âŠNot just them, though! My whole spite-fueled goal with this project is to compare the MLA to the protagonist Heroes and the status quo they defend. In the writing process, this has stabilized into three relatively distinct considerations: both the Meta Liberation Army and Team Hero as presented within the story and, further, the meta-narrative of My Hero Academia itself.
---(...)---
Point 1:Â The cult of tradition.
Looking to the thinkers of the ancient past for wisdom, believing that there can be no (worthwhile) new knowledge/advancement because the âancientsâ already knew everything of worth. Look particularly for historically discrete belief systems being falsely syncretized, the internal contradictions of the resulting fusion being ignored or massaged away in service to the desired narrative.
MLA: No. Their whole thing is looking towards the future of quirks and people âbecoming who they were meant to be.â The only thing theyâve got going on in terms of past-worship is their veneration of Destro and his bloodline, but that feels less like believing in the supremacy of the old than it does just the supremacy of one particular martyr. They donât worship him out of a sense of âolder = superiorâ; they worship him because he had a view of the future that he was prevented from carrying out, and theyâve been taught to share that view of the future. They arenât trying to return to an idealized past, and certainly not a syncretistic one, though they do become a syncretized organization with the League merger. This, however, is a practical matter of current alliances, rather than the more characteristic Ur-Fascist attempt to flatten the beliefs of discrete groups in the past to better play up their supposed superior wisdom.
---(...)---
Point 2: Rejection of modernism.
Rejection of the modern way of life, particularly the shifts that came of the Enlightenment, the Age of Reason, modern history revolutions (as in France and the U.S.), frequently capitalism, etc. The modern age is viewed as one of moral collapse leading to depravity. In the modern U.S. for example, we see the alt-right trying to roll back the social upheavals of the civil rights era; my readers may also consider, if theyâre familiar with the phenomenon, Rome Bros on Twitter. In Japan, this has tended to manifest as veneration of the Emperor as divine and a desire to purge Japan of Western influence.
Team Hero: Human advancement at large is explicitly described as grinding to a halt during the Advent of the Extraordinary. All technological development, all culture, now seems to rotate solely around Heroes and how best to support them. However dire that state of affairs is, however, itâs not a result of Heroes/the current regime specifically rejecting advancement or modern schools of thought. I will come back to this, however; it very much fits the bill for a later point.
---(...)---
Point 3: Action for actionâs sake.
âAction being beautiful in itself, it must be taken before, or without, any previous reflection. Thinking is a form of emasculation.â Reflects in a disdain for intellectuals/academics. Like the following point, this ethic exists at least in part because the cultural syncretism of Point 1 canât withstand critical analysis.
Meta-Narrative: See all of the Hero analysis and kick it up a notch.  The âact without thinkingâ mentality as a marker for Heroism is never seriously critiqued, examined, or undermined. Itâs a plague in the Shonen Jump brand, I think, that âintellectualâ characters can be good guys, sure, even in the main characterâs nakama, but the protagonists are classically shounen hot-heads, with that hot-headedness being portrayed over and over again as more genuine, and therefore more admirable, than cool-headed intellect, which tends to get portrayed as compensating (unsuccessfully) for a lack of strength or faith at best, and evil manipulative cunning at worst.  While Heroes as a collective may not believe in action for actionâs sake in-universe, the fact that the characters who do uphold it as a value are the main characters becomes much more reflective of the meta-narrative ethos.
Indeed, itâs quite glaring to me that, while the planning for the raids is a great counterexample to âaction for actionâs sakeâ within the story, none of the kids the audience views as the main characters and promised symbols of a better and brighter future are allowed to take part in those plans. Rather, the kids merely act as theyâre directed, without reflecting on whether the orders theyâre given are good orders, much less whether those orders will actually lead to the aforementioned brighter future. The kids who were once willing to directly disobey the orders of adults have long, long vanished from the story by its end.
Read the rest here!
#bnha#bnha critical#meta liberation army#this particular section is a bit mla apologetics but I promise it does not last#bnha analysis#bnha meta#finding fascism bnha
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heya...!!!! Sweetypie đđ„§đ§.... It's me again, i want to make a request again...if you don't mind đ.
Can you make a request regarding creepypasta with ticci tobby and eyelash Jack .Previous request for a creepypasta
Most certainly! Though my drafts are a mess so Iâm no longer sure what the previous request refers to. ;-; Hopefully this is close to what you pictured.
Yandere! Creepypasta x Reader
Featuring Ticci-Toby and Eyeless Jack and a clueless reader that caught their attention. TW: dubious consent, gore and violence
Ticci-Toby
Oh, he really canât explain it but youâve tied his heart into a knot. His chest is tight and itâs almost as if his lungs struggle to get enough oxygen. You seem kind and he canât help but daydream that heâs the subject to your friendly gestures. He feels like a spoiled child, drinking up every drop of affection, tipsy with delight. If only those doll eyes of yours looked at him.
Heâs hesitant to approach you because his moods are so unpredictable. Heâd love to shower you in adoration and spend the rest of his life protecting you from any threats. Then comes his rage and heâs tempted to scratch your face off for smiling to anyone else but him. Why are you trying so hard for other people? No one appreciates you as much as he does, (Y/N). Is his attention not enough? Does he need to hold your gaze in by force?
Suffice to say that Ticci-Toby can be extremely jealous and possessive well before youâre even aware of his existence. Unlike Eyeless Jack, however, he is very open about his displays of love and doesnât wait too long to introduce himself. His impulsive desires take over any consideration heâs had regarding your safety in front of his mood swings. He can worry about it when it actually happens. Now matter the anger, heâd never hurt his darling, would he? Itâs the others that will have to pay.
If heâs feeling particularly hyperactive he will begin parroting his reasons for your fated romance and why you were meant to be. If anxiety equates in, the narrations turn into regurgitated, repetitive questions stemming out of insecurity. Are you really certain you havenât gotten tired of him? Truly, without a doubt? Perhaps you were thinking of leaving him? The interrogations culminate in desperate begging for reassurance. Please let him know youâll never, ever abandon him. Otherwise he will have to guarantee it himself one way or another.
Eyeless Jack
You happened to be the next victim on his list. The creature stood above your sleeping form in absolute silence. You barely shuffled at the sudden coldness from the edge of the scalpel coming into contact with your abdomen. The blade, however, remained still on the surface. The hollow sockets were fixated on your unconscious face, seemingly deep in consideration.
He canât quite pinpoint a reasoning to it, but your presence has caught his interest. On the bright side, you get to keep your kidney. The only caveat is that you now have a rather dedicated admirer with a less orthodox approach to his growing crush.
Jack primarily enjoys watching you from afar and leaves only vague hints of his presence. Which, of course, depends on your definition of vague. At first you didnât make the connection between the people wronging you in your daily life and the mysterious packages youâd receive in the mail containing frozen raw organs. You had assumed some neighbor mightâve gotten some subscription for their dog and messed up the address. As the news piled up, often involving these particular people as abruptly missing, your suspicions increased. Especially after noticing that none of your neighbors seem to have pets. And then the love notes started and you nearly threw up next to your mailbox.
Jack is fidgeting like a schoolgirl upon seeing your reaction to his confessions. Could you be that overwhelmed by his love? It wasnât a big deal, really. Heâs just doing what heâs best at. Heâs just glad to ease your life by erasing the factors that upset you. You donât have to worry about returning his favors. Humans come with two kidneys for a reason, after all. They were made for sharing.
Now that heâs gotten his answer, he can confidently approach you. He canât wait to get his claws on you. You look stunning from a distance, too, but nothing compares to actually feeling you. Hearing your whimpers of shy protest, sensing the increased pulse tumultuously running through your veins, observing your pupils contract in mildâŠfear? No, most likely just excitement. His spiraling black eyes (or rather, lack of) devour your presence with anatomical curiosity. If heâs careful enough, he might even play with you a little. Heâll be extra careful with his darling.
#creepypasta#yandere creepypasta#creepypasta x reader#creepypasta headcanon#ticci toby#eyeless jack#eyeless jack x reader#ticci toby x reader
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thoughts on xDOTcom/CorralSummer/status/1823504569097175056 tumblrDOTcom/antinegationism/758845963819450368 ?
I mostly try to ignore AI art debates, and as a result I feel like I don't have enough context to make sense of that twitter exchange. That said...
It's about generative image models, and whether they "are compression." Which seems to mean something like "whether they contain compressed representations of their training images."
I can see two reasons why partisans in the AI art wars might care about this question:
If a training image is actually "written down" inside the model, in some compressed form that can be "read off" of the weights, it would then be easier to argue that a copyright on the image applies to the model weights themselves. Or to make similar claims about art theft, etc. that aren't about copyright per se.
If the model "merely" consists of a bunch of compressed images, together with some comparatively simple procedure for mixing/combining their elements together (so that most of the complexity is in the images, not the "combining procedure"), this would support the contention that the model is not "creative," is not "intelligent," is "merely copying art by humans," etc.
I think the stronger claim in #2 is clearly false, and this in turn has implications for #1.
(For simplicity I'll just use "#2", below, as a shorthand for "the stronger claim in #2," i.e. the thing about compressed images + simple combination procedure)
I can't present, or even summarize, the full range of the evidence against #2 in this brief post. There's simply too much of it. Virtually everything we know about neural networks militates against #2, in one way or another.
The whole of NN interpretability conflicts with #2. When we actually look at the internals of neural nets and what is being "represented" there, we rarely find anything that is specialized to a single training example, like a single image. We find things that are more generally applicable, across many different images: representations that mean "there's a curved line here" or "there's a floppy ear here" or "there's a dog's head here."
The linked post is about an image classifier (and a relatively primitive one), not an image generator, but we've also found similar things inside of generative models (e.g.).
I also find it difficult to understand how anyone could seriously believe #2 after actually using these models for any significant span of time, in any nontrivial way. The experience is just... not anything like what you would expect, if you thought they were "pasting together" elements from specific artworks in some simplistic, collage-like way. You can ask them for wild conjunctions of many different elements and styles, which have definitely never been represented before in any image, and the resulting synthesis will happen at a very high, humanlike level of abstraction.
And it is noteworthy that, even in the most damning cases where a model reliably generates images that are highly similar to some obviously copyrighted ones, it doesn't actually produce exact duplicates of those images. The linked article includes many pairs of the form (copyrighted image, MidJourney generation), but the generations are vastly different from the copyrighted images on the pixel level -- they just feel "basically the same" to us, because they have the same content in terms of humanlike abstract concepts, differing only in "inessential minor details."
If the model worked by memorizing a bunch of images and then recombining elements of them, it should be easy for it to very precisely reproduce just one of the memorized images, as a special case. Whereas it would presumably be difficult for such a system to produce something "essentially the same as" a single memorized image, but differing slightly in the inessential details -- what kind of "mixture," with some other image(s), would produce this effect?
Yet it's the latter that we see in practice -- as we'd expect from a generator that works in humanlike abstractions.
And this, in turn, helps us understand what's going in in the twitter dispute about "it's either compression or magic" vs. "how could you compress so much down to so few GB?"
Say you want to make a computer display some particular picture. Of, I dunno, a bird. (The important thing is that it's a specific picture, the kind that could be copyrighted.)
The simplest way to do this is just to have the computer store the image as a bitmap of pixels, without any compression.
In this case, it's unambiguous that the image itself is being represented in the computer, with all the attendant copyright (etc.) implications. It's right there. You can read it off, pixel by pixel.
But maybe this takes up too much computer memory. So you try using a simple form of compression, like JPEG compression.
JPEG compression is pretty simple. It doesn't "know" much about what images tend to look like in practice; effectively, it just "knows" that they tend to be sort of "smooth" at the small scale, so that one tiny region often has similar colors/intensities to neighboring tiny regions.
Just knowing this one simple fact gets you a significant reduction in file size, though. (The size of this reduction is a typical reference point for people's intuitions about what "compression" can, and can't, do.)
And here, again, it's relatively clear that the image is represented in the computer. You have to do some work to "unpack" it, but it's simple work, using an algorithm simple enough that a human can hold the whole thing in their mind at once. (There is probably at least one person in existence, I imagine, who can visualize what the encoded image looks like when they look at the raw bytes of a JPEG file, like those guys in The Matrix watching the green text fall across their terminal screens.)
But now, what if you had a system that had a whole elaborate library of general visual concepts, and could ably draw these concepts if asked, and could draw them in any combination?
You no longer need to lay out anything like a bitmap, a "copy" of the image arranged in space, tile by tile, color/intensity unit by color/intensity unit.
It's a bird? Great, the system knows what birds look like. This particular bird is an oriole? The system knows orioles. It's in profile? The system knows the general concept of "human or animal seen in profile," and how to apply it to an oriole.
Your encoding of the image, thus far, is a noting-down of these concepts. It takes very little space, just a few bits of information: "Oriole? YES. In profile? YES."
The picture is a close-up photograph? One more bit. Under bright, more-white-than-yellow light? One more bit. There's shallow depth of field, and the background is mostly a bright green blur, some indistinct mass of vegetation? Zero bits: the system's already guessed all that, from what images of this sort tend to be like. (You'd have to spend bits to get anything except the green blur.)
Eventually, we come to the less essential details -- all the things that make your image really this one specific image, and not any of the other close-up shots of orioles that exist in the world. The exact way the head is tilted. The way the branch, that it sits on, is slightly bent at its tip.
This is where most of the bits are spent. You have to spend bits to get all of these details right, and the more "arbitrary" the details are -- the less easy they are to guess, on the basis of everything else -- the more bits you have to spend on them.
But, because your first and most abstract bits bought you so much, you can express your image quite precisely, and still use far less room than JPEG compression would use, or any other algorithm that comes to mind when people say the word "compression."
It is easy to "compress" many specific images inside a system that understands general visual concepts, because most of the content of an image is generic, not unique to that image alone.
The ability to convey all of the non-unique content very briefly is precisely what provides us enough room to write down all the unique content, alongside it.
This is basically the way in which specific images are "represented" inside Stable Diffusion and MidJourney and the like, insofar as they are. Which they are, not as a general rule, but occasionally, in the case of certain specific images -- due to their ubiquity in the real world and hence in the training data, or due to some deliberate over-sampling of them in that data.
(In the case of MidJourney and the copyrighted images, I suspect the model was [over-?]heavily trained on those specific images -- perhaps because they were thought to exemplify the "epic," cinematic MidJourney house style -- and it has thus stored more of their less-essential details than it has with most training images. Typical regurgitations from image generators are less precise than those examples, more "abstract" in their resemblance to the originals -- just the easy, early bits, with fewer of the expensive less-essential details.)
But now -- is your image of the oriole "represented" in computer memory, in this last case? Is the system "compressing" it, "storing" it in a way that can be "read off"?
In some sense, yes. In some sense, no.
This is a philosophical question, really, about what makes your image itself, and not any of the other images of orioles in profile against blurred green backgrounds.
Remember that even MidJourney can't reproduce those copyrighted images exactly. It just makes images that are "basically the same."
Whatever is "stored" there is not, actually, a copy of each copyrighted image. It's something else, something that isn't the original, but which we deem too close to the original for our comfort. Something of which we say: "it's different, yes, but only in the inessential details."
But what, exactly, counts as an "inessential detail"? How specific is too specific? How precise is too precise?
If the oriole is positioned just a bit differently on the branch... if there is a splash of pink amid the green blur, a flower, in the original but not the copy, or vice versa...
When does it stop being a copy of your image, and start being merely an image that shares a lot in common with yours? It is not obvious where to draw the line. "Details" seem to span a whole continuous range of general-to-specific, with no obvious cutoff point.
And if we could, somehow, strip out all memory of all the "sufficiently specific details" from one of these models -- which might be an interesting research direction! -- so that what remains is only the model's capacity to depict "abstract concepts" in conjunction?
If we could? It's not clear how far that would get us, actually.
If you can draw a man with all of Super Mario's abstract attributes, then you can draw Super Mario. (And if you cannot, then you are missing some important concept or concepts about people and pictures, and this will hinder you in your attempts to draw other, non-copyrighted entities.)
If you can draw an oriole, in profile, and a branch, and a green blur, then you can draw an oriole in profile on a branch against a green blur. And all the finer details? If one wants them, the right prompt should produce them.
There is no way to stop a sufficiently capable artist from imitating what you have done, if it can imitate all of the elements of which your creation is made, in any imaginable combination.
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Guide dog/Blind EJ HCs under the cut ^^
Small disclaimer: I am not visually impaired beyond having thick ass glasses,, I tried doing research but EJ is obviously different than a human being with blindness and if I get anything wrong or forget to mention anything, please add on in the comments/reblogs with your own ideas! :]
-> Jack technically can see heat signatures, by clicking his tongue or making any kind of chit chat similar to echolocation.
-> However, seeing pure reds, oranges and blues can be VERY overwhelming, especially in the sunlight. Which is why he hunts in the dark, easier to see the warmth of people.
-> He still wants to function in the daylight, so he has a white cane that he put a plastic chain on for the âaestheticâ
-> He wears glass eyes when outside, which makes him blend in incredibly well especially with his long emo hair.
-> His guide dog is a german shepherd-lab mix, and has enough energy to keep up with him when off-duty, considering Jack's inhuman-ness, while still having the intelligence to relax with him and be in work mode.
-> Feel free to give names for the doggie :3
-> He has a dog AND cane because depending on the day and his needs, sometimes he only has the dog, sometimes only the cane, sometimes both. He doesn't take the dog on missions or hunting for obvious reasons.
-> He has labels and can read braille because he does enjoy cooking meals for himself, and still has some memory left from before his eyes were removed, so he can use a knife and stuff like that with practice. And the labels make him independent, which is the most important part, and make some kickass techwear outfits.
-> Since screens dont have heat signatures to show you what's happening (I assume, I'm not that smart), when the proxies have movie nights, they try to choose movies that Jack had seen in the past, so he can enjoy them, or if it's based off a book, he listens to the audiobook (that's the main way he consumes media, along with music)
-> Despite the blindness, he's actually a great cook. He sometimes needs help from Tim when it comes to certain things, but he can pick seasonings and recipes fairly well. It's a good night when Jack is the one cooking dinner. Obviously, he keeps his human meat separate from animal meat, along with separate pots and pans for his own meals as to not cross contain and make the other proxies sick.
#creepypasta#slenderverse#creepypasta fanart#creepypasta art#eyeless jack#eyeless jack art#eyeless jack fanart#eyeless jack headcanon#creepypasta headcanon#german shepherd labrador#proxy dog headcanons#more coming soon chat
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hits different.
part I of the midnights series. inspired by taylor swiftâs midnights. part II
pairing: music-producer!seungcheol x lawyer!fem!reader [exes-to-lovers]
genre: romance. slight angst. drama.
warnings: she/her pronouns for reader (but no specific physical characteristics). mentions of a pretty rough breakup. slight angst. some light cursing. mentions of death (jokingly though). terrible knowledge of law stuff (thank my brief interest in htgawm). yearning. loads of miscommunication. slow burn. cheol & reader are both stubborn. mentions of drinking. alternating povs. lower caps intended [if thereâs anything i missed, please let me know!]
word count: 4.7k
notes: this is the first part of a new series i thought of! this is also my first time writing (or more like, finishing writing) something, so please be kind! any comments, reblogs or likes are welcome. and thank you to whoever decides to give this a chance :)
summary: still recovering from a not-so-fresh breakup, seungcheol leans on his friends to get back on his feet. it turns out to be much easier said than done, especially when his record label recruits the help of a law firm to deal with a recent scandal, which just so happens to be the same firm his ex works at. just his luck.
if anyone could see the scene in front of mingyu, theyâd be severely concerned, much like he is at this very moment.
seungcheol is quite literally buried under a pile of blankets on his bed, the only visible part of his body a tuft of his dark brown hair. the floor of his bedroom is covered in clothes and empty food containers, and the air feels so stale and hot, itâs taking everything in mingyu not to gag. there is no light coming into the room except from the lightbulb shining in the hallway where mingyu is standing, and⊠is that⊠phoebe bridgers he can hear playing from somewhere?
mingyu glances down at his feet where kkuma, seungcheolâs devoted dog â and only girl whoâs ever truly loved him, according to him â is sitting staring right back at him, a look on her fluffy face that mingyu swears looks just as depressed as her dad.
âthis is way worse than i thought,â mingyu sighs, finally stepping into the bedroom. âokay, enough of this!â
mingyu grabs the blankets on the bed and pulls them away, revealing a very aggravated seungcheol. âwhat the hell are you doing?!â
âiâm not sure yet, because this,â mingyu gestures around the room, âis a lot. but it starts with you getting your ass out of bed and into the shower. immediately. this place smells like thereâs a corpse somewhere in here.â
âyeah, itâs me. iâm the corpse. or i wish i was, because that would mean iâve finally died,â seungcheol groans, turning away from mingyu and effectively shoving his face into the bed.
mingyu sighs, turning around to start collecting some of the dirty clothes on the floor. he finds himself regretting not calling jeonghan or joshua to come with him, because seungcheol might have been more easily persuaded to stop moping with them around. the reality is, they all thought seungcheol was doing better; he was back on his grind at work, finishing several albums he had been producing for, he was making progress in his jiu-jitsu classes, and he even joined the rest of the guys on their trip to australia last month, with minimal persuasion from his friends.
looking at the shell of a man laying on the bed in front of him, mingyu realizes he shouldâve asked. he shouldâve asked his friend how he was really doing, what he was feeling, what he could actually do to help him move past this.
better late than never.
âlisten,â mingyu starts, going to sit on the edge of seungcheolâs bed but reconsidering. who knows when he last changed these. âiâm sorry if we havenât really been there for you. i know a thing or two about breakups and heartbreak, so i guess i shouldâve figured you werenât alright, not like you said you were. you donât have to keep all youâre feeling locked up. you can talk to us.â
seungcheolâs head moves slightly to the side, peeking at mingyu from the corner of his eye. he sighs, and turns on his back. mingyu tries not to cringe at seungcheolâs sullen face, his eyes red and still wet, as if he was still crying when mingyu arrived at his apartment.
âdonât beat yourself up, gyu. believe it or not, i was actually doing better. but a few days ago, i ⊠i was cleaning around the closet by the entrance and âŠâ he pauses, and mingyu thinks he might burst into tears. seungcheol breathes in however, closes his eyes, and continues. âi found one of her old hats. you know, the yellow crochet bucket hat she always used to wear in the summer? i bought it for her birthday when we had just started dating and ⊠i donât know, i just broke down. it hit me again that weâre over. like really.â
you and seungcheol broke up ⊠four, five months ago? seungcheol shakes his head, he feels like time hasnât passed the same since. days pass him by where he just goes over and over your last conversation â which was more of a fight, really â and he always ends up regretting everything he said that day. regrets resenting you for always working late, for never asking him to accompany you to firm events⊠regrets accusing you of some unspeakable things.
looking back, he canât believe how big of an idiot he was. no wonder you left and didnât even bother to come back to get your things. you left everything behind, all your clothes that still smelled of the lavender detergent you used to buy, your makeup haphazardly thrown into one of the bathroom drawers, the cooking books you always bought âfor inspirationâ but never, ever actually opened⊠and the yellow bucket hat you got from seungcheol for the first birthday you spent together. seungcheol had left everything where it was, a tiny part of him hoping you two would work this out somehow. but weeks went by with no word from you, and when he had tried reaching you, he came to the grave conclusion that you had blocked him on all platforms, cut him off from your life like a dead limb. back then he thought he deserved it. he still does.
âiâm sorry, hyung. i really am,â mingyu shakes seungcheol from his reverie, reaching a hand to pet his shoulder. a beat passes between them. âhave you tried⊠calling her again since?â
âno. i donât know what good it would do,â seungcheol sighs. âeven if she answered, i doubt all the apologies i could offer would fix anything. i said some pretty fucked up shit.â
âyeah, i know. if you remember, i was there the next day ripping you a new one,â mingyu teases, desperately trying to cheer up his friend somehow. he swears he can see seungcheolâs lips twitch a bit. âbut who knows⊠now that you both had some time to yourselves, you might actually be able to overcome this calmly. and if⊠if it doesnât work out in the end, at least youâll both have some closure.â
closure. thatâs a funny word, because seungcheol wants the furthest thing from closure. he wants you back in his bed and your arms around him, he wants your indie artists heâs never heard of playing around the apartment in the morning, he wants your laugh echoing in the halls. he wants you.
he knows that the only way this ending could even be a possibility would be if he actually took mingyuâs advice and called you up, but another part of him is terrified of the other possibility: the one where you pick up and tell him to go to hell and fuck himself and never call you again or show his face around you. so for now, seungcheol opts for a third option: emotional limbo, with a side of trying-to-move-on.
he gets up from the bed and asks mingyu if he could help him straighten out the place. mingyu, bless his sweet heart, of course says yes and gets to work after sending seungcheol to clean himself up. just as heâs about to close the bathroom door, he hears mingyuâs exasperated voice.
âoh, for the love of god, where is that god-awful music coming from?!â
seungcheol canât remember the last time he laughed so heartily.
the bar you find yourself in is bustling with people, laughter and cheerful conversations filling the space. youâre only half listening to whatever topic your two best friends, yunjin and chaeyoung, are discussing â something about âthat bitchâ in yunjinâs department at work thatâs been giving her a hard time â instead reveling in the pleasant buzz of the champagne youâre nursing.
it had been a while since you were able to enjoy a nice evening with your girls. the past few months had been filled with endless meetings, client-induced headaches and sleepless nights, but thankfully, today you had managed to finally strike a deal for one of the firmâs most important clients (to be read as filthy rich), which you had been working towards all these months. naturally, upon hearing the news, chaeyoung and yunjin had begged you to join them at a bar in the city, âto celebrate your newfound freedom.â
you splurged on a bottle of champagne for the three of you and decided that tonight, you were going to have fun. you were going to relax, enjoy some drink, and catch up with your friends who you hadnât seen in weeks.
and you will not, under any circumstances, bring up seungcheol.
you like to believe that in the last two months you had gotten better at shutting out any thought of your ex-boyfriend. in the days â more like weeks, if you were to ask chaeyoung and yunjin â following the ugly breakup, you were quite the literal mess. finding yourself alone and with nowhere to go, considering you had left the apartment you shared with seungcheol with nothing but your work stuff (how on-brand for you), it wasnât surprising that your mental and emotional health had taken a massive hit. thankfully, at the insistence of yunjin, you agreed to crash at her place while you put yourself back together and took time off from work â something you had never done before.
to the surprise of your friends, it only took you two weeks to go back to work and start looking for your own place. two weeks after that, you were moving into a new apartment and claimed that you were feeling much better since the breakup. or at least starting to. chaeyoung and yunjin didnât want to argue with you on this â even thought they 100% believed the front you were putting up was a load of crap â but in the end, they didnât even have to, because the first time you went out with them again since the breakup, you had your first meltdown.
but was it really your fault that the man sitting two seats down the bar from you had ordered whiskey neat, just like seungcheol always used to? and was it really your fault that he was wearing a maroon leather jacket similar to the one seungcheol always used to wear in the fall, which you absolutely adored?
could they really blame you for bursting into tears right then and there and wailing about how much of a jerk seungcheol was for never understanding your dedication to your work? how much of a hypocrite he was for expecting you to just dip from the office when he suddenly had some free time, when he had never done so for you?
that night, chaeyoung and yunjin quite literally dragged you back to chaeyoungâs place and held you while you cried yourself to sleep, and in the morning, when you had embarrassingly admitted that âno, you werenât really doing fine,â they held you again and offered soft-spoken words of support, opting to keep the classic we told you so in their thoughts.
four months passed since that incident and now, you could confidently say that you were truly feeling better. you werenât quite over seungcheol per se; there were nights when you still thought about the smell of vanilla that filled the room whenever he was fresh out of a shower, the way he always got so giggly when you brought home a tray of cherries⊠yeah, you still found yourself missing him terribly sometimes. but the more time passed, you realized that seungcheol hadnât tried reaching you at all in the months since the breakup, and so you thought he might be moving on as well.
it is true you had blocked him on all social platforms for weeks after you stormed out of your place. but on a particularly bad day, when all you did was cry and cry and cry after him, the thought of calling him up and asking him to go back to how things were crossed your mind, and you unblocked his number. unfortunately, your pride had set itself in your way, convincing you that it was seungcheol that needed to make the first step, considering he was the one who quite literally cornered you into a fight. so you didnât call and instead prayed to whatever forces exist in the universe, that seungcheol would try your number again.
he never did.
âsoooo, cheers to the lady of the hour! finally free from the clutches of corporate law!â yunjin cheered, clinking her glass against yours and knocking you out of your reverie.
damn it, seungcheol, i said i would not think of you tonight!
âyes, cheers!â chaeyoung joined in. âhow do you feel? are you going to get a big ass bonus for the amount of time you put into this asshole?â
chaeyoung was probably right, you probably did deserve a huge ass bonus for the deal you pulled for the client you were handling. when you were in law school, you had never imagined yourself working for sleazy, corporate pigs who behaved like none of their actions would bite them in the ass eventually, and expecting others â like yourself â to clean up after them. but, as your boss grimly explained to you the day you had complained about your client, everybody has to start somewhere. âand junior partners donât get to choose cases, sweetheart.â
life at the firm wasnât always terrible. you were lucky enough to be part of an amazing team, and the firm worked with plenty of influential and big personalities, so you almost never had to worry about your income. but sometimes, some of the people you were asked to represent brought you to the brink of just quitting your job altogether.
âi just feel relieved,â you say. âif i had to hear the incessant whining and nagging of that idiot for one more day, i might have gone insane!â
âwell, thank god youâre a stellar lawyer and managed to get rid of him,â yunjin teases, taking a sip of her drink. âdo you already have anything else lined up?â
âgod, no! i have a few days off just to take care of paperwork, maybe help out some of my colleagues around the office⊠but nothing big for now, thankfully.â
âoh, thatâs amazing! which reminds me, this means you can actually join us on that weekend spa trip we were talking about last week,â chaeyoung happily suggests, as sheâs already pulling up the website of the spa retreat.
âi guess a spa day would be nice,â you say, looking over at chaeyoungâs phone. you feel your body already going lax at the thought of a hot stone massage.
âoh, that would be so nice!â yunjin pouts. âwe havenât gone on a girls trip in so long! i miss going away, just the three of us⊠do you guys remember that trip we took to croatia two years ago? that was the best one we ever did, i swear!â
while chaeyoung joins yunjin in reminiscing about all the trips the three of you took over the years, you feel your phone buzzing in the pocket of your dress paints. pulling it out, you see an email notificationâŠ
âoh, noâŠâ your voice trails off, reading over the email you had just received.
âwhat? whatâs the matter?â yunjin asks, her conversation with chaeyoung coming to a halt.
âmy boss just emailed me. he wants me in the office tomorrow morning. some big case that just came in,â you explain, already feeling a headache coming in.
âbut tomorrowâs saturday,â chaeyoung frowns.
âi know⊠i know.â
when monday rolls around, seungcheol really wished that he had died before mingyu had found him the week before.
the day started normal enough. he woke up at 5 a.m. and took kkuma for a walk in the park near his apartment building, just like every morning. by 8 a.m., he was already set up in his studio inside the PLEDIS building, ready to work on the tracks he was supposed to finish mixing by the end of the week. seungcheol liked the buzz of the label, people from all different departments running around trying to stay on their schedules; it motivated him to also do his part diligently, and reminded him that he was extremely lucky to be doing one of the things he loves most: music.
seungcheol shouldâve guessed something was up today the moment the clock struck 11 and jihoon, the other in-house producer of PLEDIS, and one of his oldest friends, hadnât come by his studio. he and jihoon had known each other since their college days, having met in an audio engineering class they apparently shared, and had been friends for 8 years now. during their last year of college, they were recruited by a record label that was just starting out (which became the PLEDIS of today), and despite all warnings from their families, they decided to take a leap of faith together and join the company. it all worked out for the better, it turned out, as PLEDIS only grew and soon became a household name in the music industry.
as the only producers that have stuck around PLEDIS since the beginning, they developed several⊠traditions, or rituals over the years, one of which was jihoonâs 11 a.m. coffee run, which theyâd spend sharing ideas and notes over each otherâs work, and, if jihoon was in a particularly good mood, engage in some office gossip (not that either of them would ever admit it). today, however, jihoon is a no-show and seungcheol canât help but wonder what his friend is up to.
when he shoots jihoon a quick text, asking if heâs alright, his friend only replies with a âjust busy,â and tells seungcheol not to wait up for him at lunch, as heâll probably be stuck in the studio all day. this doesnât surprise him that much, seeing as jihoon might be an even bigger workaholic than he is, but he still canât shake the feeling that something must be up with his friend. he decides that instead of going out for lunch, heâs gonna pick up some takeout and join jihoon in his studio. he wouldnât be able to rest easy knowing his friend will go a day without eating anything.
once lunch hours begin, seungcheol takes a quick walk two blocks down the street to the restaurant mingyu works in, whoâs already waiting for him with the food seungcheol had requested for him and jihoon. on his way back to PLEDIS, he texts jihoon again, just to make sure heâs still in the studio, but thereâs no answer, and now seungcheol is seriously starting to get worried. he jogs the rest of the way until heâs back inside the building, and takes the elevator to the 6th floor where jihoonâs studio is stationed.
walking up to the door that reads UNIVERSE FACTORY, he stops in his tracks when he hears more than one voice from the other side of the door. he easily recognizes jihoonâs voice, but the other voices â two other men and a woman â are harder to make out. except⊠except the womanâs voice is eerily familiar, and without a second thought, seungcheol grips the handle and swings the door open, four pairs of eyes whipping in his direction.
his eyes land on jihoon, who looks like he wishes he was anywhere else in that moment, and then scan the rest of room, recognizing mr. han, their CEO, and⊠you. itâs you.
seungcheol feels like heâs going to faint. mr. han does not look the least bit happy about seungcheolâs intrusion, and he really wishes the man would slap him just so he can know for sure if heâs dreaming. if youâre surprised to see seungcheol, your face shows no sign of it, and seungcheol canât help but stare at you. you look so beautiful, so put together; your make-up is soft, almost unnoticeable, your hair pushed behind your ears, and youâre wearing a dark green suit⊠oh, how he loved you in green.
you were the picture of grace and professionalism and he was⊠not. he really wishes he hadnât come to the studio in sweatpants right now.
âmr. choi, what a⊠surprise,â mr. han exclaims, standing up from his seat, you and the other man â who seungcheol has no idea who he is, but he knows he doesnât like the way heâs standing so close to you â following suit. âi didnât know mr. lee was expecting you,â mr. han continues, glancing towards jihoon, who turned red as a tomato.
âi wasnât, actually,â jihoon squeaks, avoiding both seungcheol and mr. hanâs gazes.
âi apologize, i was⊠i was just bringing jihoon some lunch. i didnât know there was⊠a meeting happening,â seungcheol says, looking towards you, and heâs almost thrown back by the way youâre just⊠staring directly at him.
mr. han sighs, but remembering the situation, he quickly puts on a polite smile as he turns towards you and the other man. âmr. choi is one of our other in-house producers. mr. choi, this is mr. jeon and miss L/N. theyâre helping us with some⊠legal matters.â
so thatâs why you were here. and who the other guy was. but what legal matters? and why was jihoon involved? and why didnât he tell seungcheol?!
before seungcheol can ask more questions, mr. han gestures towards the door he came through and says ânow, if you donât mind, you can come back in a few minutes, mr. choi. weâll be done soon.â
soon. soon, his ass!
seungcheol had been pacing the hallway outside jihoonâs studio for the past 20 minutes (he checked, he wasnât exaggerating!), trying very hard not to eavesdrop through the door, and thinking of every possible reason why jihoon would need legal help and why you would be here.
jihoon was definitely in some kind of trouble. for the CEO to be involved as well, it for sure must be something that could affect the whole label. seungcheol just canât understand why jihoon wouldnât tell him if he had any kind of problem. they were colleagues, but most importantly, they were friends. he wouldâve dropped everything to come to his aid.
now, when it comes to you⊠seungcheol knows youâre a lawyer, obviously he does. he met you when you were halfway through law school, and he was there for every failed and aced exam, for your graduation (he was so proud of you that day, it was the first time youâd ever seen him cry), for every measly job you had before finally securing the one you currently held at one of the top firms in the city. he also knows youâre a damn good lawyer, seeing how hard you work and how dedicated you are. he supposes itâs not surprising you were chosen to represent jihoon in whatever mess he got himself in.
he feels bad now that he remembers how he held these things above your head during your last fight. how you were working late so often, how you never asked him to join you at office parties, despite how eager you always were to go out with your coworkers for drinks, how you always asked him to wait for you outside the office building, as if you didnât want people to know you had a partner...
he knows that both of you were to blame for how things went down between you, but since he started the argument in the first place, he thinks he couldâve brought all this up in a better way, at a better time.
his thoughts are interrupted when the door to jihoonâs studio opens again, and he finds himself regretting waiting in the hallway because now he has to face you again and heâs not ready and he doesnât know what to say and he still looks like a hobo and â
âmr. choi!â
he looks up to see who he imagines is your colleague â mr. jeon â step towards him, as you and mr. han step out after him, discussing something. you glance once towards seungcheol before turning back to the conversation, and seungcheol feels his heart clench.
âmr. jeon, iâm sorry once again for interrupting your meeting,â seungcheol says, extending his hand to shake mr. jeonâs.
âdonât worry, no harm done at all. iâm actually glad you stuck around, because i had something to ask you. seeing as you and mr. lee are close, would you be available for a short talk with us, sometime in the next days? weâll have to build a strong case for mr. lee and, well, some insight from his colleagues would be very helpful,â mr. jeon explains, fixing the thin-rimmed glasses perched on his nose.
seungcheol is taken aback by the manâs soft tone. his sharp eyes and cold look on his face made him look pretty intimidating, but his voice is the complete opposite, putting seungcheol weirdly at ease.
âo-of course, anything for jihoon,â seungcheol quickly replies. âcan i ask, though, what exactly does he need help with?â
âplagiarism.â
âPLAGIARISM?!â
âyouâre being sued. for plagiarism.â
âyes.â
âand you just found out last friday.â
âyes.â
âlast friday when we all went out for barbeque and you didnât even think to mention it? not even once?!â
âwill you stop pacing and sit down? youâre making me even more nervous than i already am,â jihoon sighs, dropping his head in his hands.
seungcheol sighs as well, muttering a sorry, and sits down on the couch opposite jihoonâs chair.
jihoon continues. âi didnât mention anything because i didnât want to piss on everyoneâs good mood. it was joshuaâs birthday⊠besides, i didnât know all the details of the situation at that point. i thought it was another baseless accusation, you know? but theyâre serious about it. they wanna take me to court.â
âwhat? thatâs insane,â seungcheol says. âi feel weird even asking, but did you even plagiarize?â
âno! of course not! i donât even know the people!â jihoon exclaims, flopping down on the couch next to seungcheol. he lets out a long groan. âthis is just what i needed.â
seungcheol pats his friendâs back, thinking of some encouraging words. jihoon was the most talented and creative guy he knew. to think that someone would accuse him of using somebody elseâs work was a concept seungcheol couldnât even entertain.
âdonât worry. that jeon guy looks like heâs already got a game plan.â
âand Y/N,â jihoon says.
silence falls around the two of them, until jihoon stirs from the couch, sitting up to look at seungcheol.
âare we just not going to acknowledge her or what?â
âno! thatâs not what iâŠâ seungcheol sighs, hanging his head. âi just wasnât expecting to see her. i donât know how to feel.â
âthatâs understandable. you guys havenât seen each other in a while, right?â
seungcheol shakes his head. âdid she⊠did she say anything to you?â
âoh, no. she was super professional, went straight to business. butâŠâ jihoon trails off, debating whether he should say what he was thinking.
âbut? but what?!â seungcheol grabs jihoonâs shoulders, shaking him a little.
âbut i think she was just as rattled to see you as you were. her hand kept shaking while she was writing, after you left. i guess she was just better at hiding her surprise,â jihoon continues. ânow let go of me, you animal!â
seungcheol sighs. could it be that you were just as much of a mess inside as he was? the hopeful part of him thinks you might have thought of him all these months, just as he thought of you. the other part of him thinks your hand might as well just have been shaking from anger.
âyou know, this might be a good thing,â jihoon says, getting up and sitting back in front of his computer.
âwhat, you getting sued and her being around?â
âyeah. maybe this way youâll finally grow some balls, put your pride aside, and actually fix things,â jihoon deadpans, and seungcheol knows the conversation is over.
yeah. easier said than done.
#đ lexie.works#đ midnights#seventeen#choi seungcheol#choi seungcheol x reader#seungcheol x reader#seventeen fanfic#seventeen imagine#svt au#seventeen angst#seventeen fluff
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FLUMPY part 11 ( jake seresin x reader)
summary : with roo , nat and jake gone the remainder of the dagger squad take it as their mission to make sure that the pregnant girlfriend and their friend is taken care of while she is racing to tell her dad before someone else is going to let it slip , dealing with life without jake being by her side isn't as fun and she is counting down the days til he and her favorite people return .
warning: other than my spelling and grammatical error this is a mostly fluffy goofy chapter with the mentions of pregnancy and all the good stuff that comes with it . the men of the dagger squad being big brother goals ,some mentions of an encounter with a shitty human who tries to hurt a dog.
(previous part)
She sat sitting in the car not actually knowing what it was that had her crying . was it the hormones , the fact jake was gone for three months or fact he didnât dump her there and then . she didnât know how long it was she was there but the crowds were long gone some even stopped to see was she ok that was til she heard a tapping on her window only to see bob standing there holding container in one hand and smile on his face .Â
â hey what you doing hereâ she sniffled trying not to look like an absolute mess .
â nat sent me told me you needed this and probably a hugâ he stood shyly only for her to start crying even more. â shit you want me to bring you good duck park rooster and hangman said that cheers you upâ he offered quickly only for her to cry harder.Â
â they know me to wellâ she sobbed as he pulled her into a hug knowing or thinking he knew why she was crying .Â
â we can just go home or hard deck iâll even do a shot with youâ he smiled.Â
â iâll go the hard deck but i canât drink â she winced. â kinda erm pregnant which with how loud jake yelled it well i need to see my dad quickly â knowing some of the men where actually worse with the how lose their lips could be . sure national and classified secret hold til the grave but moment it came to things of normal like well they turned into a sewing circle.Â
â congratulations reallyâ he smiled widely .Â
â ugh your so cuteâ she sniffled wiping her nose . Â
â come on leave you care we can come back for it later or iâll leave mine either way your in no shape to driveâ bob help her out of the car she instantly notice how his touch got softer almost like any pressure would break her making her roll her eyes but hug the WSO hard .Â
The moment she walked into the hard deck all eyes were on her , giving bob a nod she headed over to her dad who sat talking away to penny til his eyes landed on her .Â
â well didnât think i would see you in this place for nine monthsâ he crossed his arms .Â
â worse then high schoolersâ she turned to the officers standing around promptly turning their attention to anything else under her heated gaze . â i was going to tell you properly but jake well yelled so loud honestly surprise you didnât hear him from your placeâ she joked smiling awkwardly.Â
â pay up â penny smirked.Â
â can you two stop betting on my life please itâs a bit odd but also go pennyâ she rolled her eyes hugging her dad.Â
â i would of rather heard it from you but the free drinks helped â he chuckled.Â
â hey i want free stuff not alcohol if wanna be generous nachoâs would be awesomeâ she yelled out .Â
â so i guess jake happyâ penny laughed hugging her.Â
â yeah i was so nervous then the whole dock found out got lots of hugs from strangersâ she nodded .Â
â well heres a free cola on me and looks like the guys are waiting for youâ penny smiled nodding her head over to the little small group of the dagger squad.Â
â we come over tomorrow anyways go kiddo enjoyâ pete kissed her head.Â
â yeah coyote looks more lost without jake than i do â she teased making her way through the crowd nodding at the congratulation til she got to the usual spot only for javy to lift her off the ground with a hug almost spilling her drink but like a knight in shining armour bob took it from her hand put on table .Â
â our baby is having a baby â he cheered .Â
â excuse me â she laughed ,Â
âOh we decided a while back you were our little sister so not up to you â fanboy shrugged.Â
â iâve no say in this?â she asked .Â
â nah .. plus one of us already called mav dad beforeâ payback snickered.Â
â that was once and it was slip of the tongueâ bob grumbled.Â
â we even cleared it with roosterâ coyote winked as she hugged the others .Â
â well iâm glad you got his approval â she rolled her eyes taking her seat.Â
â so as your new found big brothers and future uncle to the baby seresin / mitchell that is growing inside of that tummy of your we are here at your beck and call so even if heartburn or some shit in the middle of night you gotta call us â payback informed her honestly it felt like she was being scolded like a naughty child.Â
â even if itâs for ice creamâ fanboy added only for penny to bring over a container filled with nacho in front of her.Â
â courtesy of yaleâ she snorted.Â
âHey thank yaleâ she yelled mouth watering at the food before her only for more food items to be brought throughout her time in the hard deck that night some by the people that got them or to the point penny sent the delivery man or woman directly to y/n . each time she yell out the thanks to the name on the receipt .Â
By the time she and bob got his car and she head home sheâd enough containers to feed her for the week or least first couple of days .
Jake honestly was up and down from one moments of being happy then being scared shitless within the space of few hours he was going through a series of emotions. It honestly gave nat and bradley whiplash trying to keep up with him . one hand he was so excited for the chapter of his life , he was older almost into his forties so the fact he was going to start a family well it was everything . then it was fact he was actually going to be a father what if he was shit at it or his kid resented him for being in the navy or what if something left him inured or worse kill in action . then he was afraid of not being there for his girl the fact she was going through three months alone without him being at her side. What if something happened and he couldnât be there for her . now he was sat with phoenix and rooster since honestly the two need to get him to chill out or else get him sedated .Â
âShe not going to be alone the guys will be there and her dadâ nat said softer than the usual tone she would take with hangman of all people. â plus you and bradshaws got like weird spidey sense sort of thing with her so if you even for a second felt something was off you would ⊠we all would honestly swim back to san diegoâ . Â
â she is right we knew she was off after that sea food platter and when she gets her period which now isnât a problem because she canât have either of those while pregnantâ rooster smirked . Â
â heâs got a pointâ nat laughed,Â
â iâm going to miss three month of her pregnancy of my first child â he finally said looking down to his hands .Â
â barely anything happens in first three monthsâ nat tried to play it off.Â
â scan says she 10 weeks so she be what six months when i get backâ he scoffed .Â
â well once your there for the birth meeting your first child , thats the main show my friend plus way you two go at it youââll get to experience it againâ roo wince considering he caught them in considerably a few compromising times .Â
â honestly iâm surprised she wasnât pregnant soonerâ nat nodded along .Â
â yeah not helping , i just wished it was different i mean what if something was to happen to me â he asked the two .Â
â i think coyote called dibs on y/nsâ rooster said easily.Â
â so did bobâ nat nodded along .
â again not helpingâ he deadpanned. â i donât want my kid to grow up or my girl to be heartbroken trying to explaining  why daddy ainât around i mean it hard thing to go throughâ .Â
â here as the only orphan of the group yes it hard but i turned out fine my mom made life the best even if she was dealing with a broken heart , plus trauma make you funnier why you think me and pretty girl are so hilarious â bradley winked.Â
â she does say she half way to being batman only Mav in her wayâ nat chuckled.Â
â look bagman sadly your a good guy and well we do unpredictable shit but your are going to be one of those fuckers that dies like ripe old age shitting in his diaperâ bradley patted his back .Â
â i say this with love but donât comfort people outside of our group but also thanks it weirdly helped â jake said slightly surprise how it help just now he was counting down the moment he would get to see her .Â
Waking up to a half empty bed was something she was never going to get over it . it had been two weeks since they were gone and still felt like it was going to be forever before they got home . like it was perfect time every symptom decided to come at once leaving her napping during her lunch break or her head in the toilet . since word spread quickly of her pregnancy everyone was almost babying her making her want to honest bite them or something . admiral simpson also got a recruit one who was studying engineering to âIntern for herâ which was his way making sure she wasnât doing anything too strenuous but did mean she had to guide the dude through literally everything. Luke wasnât a bad kid and well poor fucker got confused more times then he should of plus calling him kid was a bit much given he was only a couple years closer . she notice kyle and coyote instantly being there too if she so much as looked at something they deemed too heavy. But true to their words one night she rang them crying because well she felt lonely and they all came and watched movie even camped out in the living room like it was a sleep over . whenever she mention of craving something well they would come back later with said thing . bob even got her new overalls when the little bump that started to protrude out took her til she went home to realise what he done , it wasnât big by any means but still clothes where starting to get a bit tight . even mama seresin and jakes sisters sent some maternity clothes down for her to wear and she had to give it to them they found cool stuff . she never wore the pjâs though because at night she would take one of jakes T-shirts wear them to bed was closest thing to having him there . even during the week the guys including the newbie kyle brought her to the good duck part even making friends with the senior citizens that were there . she was never so lucky in life as she was now to have the friends she did  when it came down to it moving to san diego and starting fresh was the best thing she ever done.Â
Walking with the guys , shopping for stuff to send the guys that werenât there care package she needed to rest when they spot some sport store honestly she zoned out half way telling them she wanted to rest on bed to knock themselves out .Â
â stupid muttâ was all she heard pulling her attention to a man yelling down at a terrified dog . instantly she was protective mode hauling her ass off the bench no longer tired . â waste of money stupid thingâ he spat going to kick the already shivering and cowering dog.Â
â hey assholeâ she snapped pushing him away .Â
â mind your business lady nothing to do with youâ he growled.Â
â iâm making it my business what fuck is wrong with you kicking a defenseless dogâ she spat not noticing that fanboy was already rounding them up the moment he spot her walking off from the bench.Â
â again none of your fucking business chubs now fuck off what i do with my dog is my businessâ.Â
â and i told you dickless .. can i call you that because youâd have to be a dickless asshole to hurt an animal what pisses me off is if this little guy defended himself he would be branded a monster , donât mind the dickless man you poor little baby â she cooed down at the dog instantly cowering behind her. â what if i hit you huh cut you down to size and chubs really dude you look more pregnant that i do â she scoffed.Â
â listen lady keep you mouth shut or iâll⊠â he started.Â
â or you what , i hope you aint talking to our sister like that palâ coyote stood making himself bigger as the rest followed.Â
â because she canât hit you in her condition â fanboy added.Â
â but we canâ bob spoke completely different honestly she was a little impressed .Â
â what like iâm afraid of youâ the man said yet his face gave it away instantly.Â
â you should be â payback stood in front of her.Â
â you know what you care so much about the bag of flea take it ainât worth itâ the man rushed off as they walked him til he drove off only to hear her giggling and laughing .Â
â he likes meâ she beamed up at them .Â
â please let us be there when you tell jakeâ fanboy snorted.
â heâll get over it , day got better free dog and awesome cool bodyguards ⊠sorry brothers now lets go get this little peanut some new things â she smiled happily.Â
 â sheâs gonna be the death of us â kyle sighed and they all agreed.Â
â it doesnât actually have fleaâs right we took my car hereâ bob gulped.
Lucky for bob peanut did not in fact have fleas but he was skin and bone . peanut was only seven months old pitbull and nothing to him , she brought him everywhere even to the hard deck letting sit with her and the guys although he was nervous at first when it got busy but soon got use to it even only place she couldnât bring him was work and so she brought him to a doggy day care one of the officers recommended one night at hard deck . two weeks was all it took for the pooch to get use to the new dynamic given it was probably the most attention heâs gotten in his life . now she was sitting on her sofa patiently ( for her ) for jake to call he let her know he had a slot for facetime coming up and she was looking forward to it almost counting the seconds til she could finally see him .Â
â now we gotta do this smart okâ she said to the dog currently sitting at her feet only for the phone to ring out and her to rush at it almost dropping it as she hit the answer button .Â
â hey babyâ god even his voice made her insides melt.Â
â jake i missed you so much â she almost cried she was so happy to finally see and hear him .Â
â i missed you too hows babyâ he asked nervously.Â
âGrowing and currently kicking my ass i mean of course they would given theyâre half you , look â she giggled holding the sonograms up . â i sent some in care package so youâll get to see it for yourself i asked them kept gender surprise til your home so we will get to see it together â she cooed.Â
â darling âŠ. Tell me something and tell me truthâ he asked his eyes coming closer.Â
â anything ask away â she smiled sweetly.Â
â why is there a dog sitting beside you â he asked wondering if weeks at sea was making him see things only for her to see peanut was in fact sitting beside her .Â
â well long story short , we were shopping for the care packages and well the guys went to soon store while i wanted to chill out on bench this douche was kicking him and then he called me chubby like dude looked like he was carrying quads anyways after fat shaming and threats boom free dog isnât he a cutieâ she cooed.Â
â darling donât those eat babiesâ he whispered .Â
â oh my god your like the shelters ⊠jake seresin are you dog racistâ she gasped .
â dog racist?â.Â
â these dogs are sweethearts it media and dumb ass idiots that make them like monster but peanut is a sweetheart better then the chihuahua in his daycare i think that dog hates meâ she winced.
â dog daycare darling how long is he there?â he chuckled.
â oh like two weeks , we watch golden girls with miss wilson too she knitted him a little cardigan heâs still skinny as hell but heâs coming along greatlyâ she smiled softly kissing the dogs head.Â
âWell i guess i canât wait to meet him and tell rooster we have a dog now,â he chuckledÂ
The two chatted trying to fit in everything in the limited amount of time before he had to say goodbye only now peanut was added in to which confused the hell why the phone was talking to him but still wagged his little tail . when the call did end he got up in her lap and licked away the tears that fell down her cheek.Â
âthank fuck you're hereâ she smiled sadly hugging him closely to her. Only two more months to go before jake was home .Â
part 12
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