#why did this idea come to me i have no idea

[perpetuallyfive]

God, I'm so happy with what they did with Maddie Nolen.

I'm sure there will be plenty of people mad because obviously there was a weird backlash over a character who has sex with one half a ship, so I'm sure some people worry this will lead those people to feel justified in their initial response.

But ignoring people who can't emotionally regulate for a second, because those childish impulses aren't worth dictating the fun things a narrative can do: Maddie is SO INTERESTING as a character and she fills in a lot of the questions people seemed to have about the rest of the season.

Consider for a moment that it wasn't Caitlyn who convinced Vi to be an Enforcer. It was Maddie.

I know that some people took this line to be about Zaunites, a sort of obvious connection to the very racist idea of "one of the good ones," but since Maddie is talking about Marcus and his betrayal of the Enforcers just before this, I'm pretty sure her framing here is something else. The point she's making is specifically targeted at Vi's own beliefs and weaknesses, her desire to protect. That seems clear to me now with all we know about Maddie's capacity for manipulation.

She's not saying, "You're good, for a poor."

She's saying, "Wow, I agree with you, the Enforcers are really bad; it's so upsetting. I think you might be the only one who can change it, but only if you join us." This is what convinces Vi to do something she never thought she would.

Well, this and the fact that Caitlyn believes in her so much which, again, is information she gets fed to her directly from Maddie. It even seems like Maddie seeks her out just to say this, which on first viewing felt oddly convenient. Wow, Vi just happens to meet this naive girl who just happens to say exactly what she needs to hear to do something so out of character.

Except obviously none of it was coincidence. Everyone already knew how much Vi meant to Caitlyn and getting Caitlyn under control would require either controlling Vi or removing her from the equation. This was a push in that direction.

Then there's her more obvious role as the spy in Caitlyn's bed, there to reassure her that the Noxians are only trying to keep all of them safe. Then when Caitlyn expresses larger doubts, she's immediately ready to lay out an alternative. You could just give up, Maddie seems to whisper gently in her ear. Just reestablish things as they were before.

But she knows Caitlyn isn't going to go for that. She's not going to go back to the council as it was, because it's only going to remind her of the empty place her mother left behind. Maddie knows that Caitlyn isn't going to take this offer, which is precisely why she suggests it. She frames quitting as the only clear alternative to going along with everything Ambessa wants because she knows that Caitlyn will refuse, which leads her right back into alignment with Ambessa. She makes continued obedience into an active choice that Caitlyn affirms she's making.

Even Maddie's comments that suggest direct opposition to Ambessa — "you're our leader... I follow you" — are designed to frame herself and her true leader in direct opposition, just as Ambessa's own warning about entanglements is there to further that point. They both make a point of reminding Caitlyn that they are her true ally, isolating her further from anyone who isn't the devil and (other) devil on her shoulders.

This way Maddie and Ambessa can both tug at Caitlyn, pulling in what feels to her like opposite directions, all so that she lands precisely where they wanted her all along but with the illusion of active agency.

And look, I'm not saying my read on her is gospel, because I think they intentionally gave us enough room to really speculate and wonder about her, someone who could have been just a background nothing character but ends up being such a huge part of the second season. That's so interesting!

I especially love that she comes across as really naive and innocent, just some poor little thing swept up in the fervor, when in reality she's a true believer who has been manipulating things to go her way from the start.

[natlovesls2]

Never Really Over

Lando Norris x Sainz! Reader

*ੈ✩‧₊˚warnings: 18+ MDNI, one bed trope/ forced proximity but barely, slight fake dating, alcohol mentioned/ used, smut, oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, small amounts of angst, minimal swearing, talks of marriage and children, please let me know if I missed any

*ੈ✩‧₊˚word count: 3.8k

*ੈ✩‧₊˚summary: You and Lando had broken up though decided it was best that no one knew. Max and Kelly's wedding forces you to come together, making it hard to disguise your true feelings. What can possibly go wrong?

.ೃ࿐request: found here

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚

It was difficult being an open book while simultaneously attempting to hide your break up from not only your brother, but anyone who had been invested in seeing the relationship prosper. More often than not you found yourself having to make up answers to questions pertaining to the subject or switch the topic all together. And even if the news of the breakup did somehow come out, you weren’t sure how you’d explain the situation that led to it. The memories of that night were hazy to say the least. 

You could faintly remember the fuzzy feeling of alcohol and the buzz of music around you that night. There was no doubt that you had been out at some party or club, as you often found yourself at one. Though everything beyond that felt like a badly painted watercolor portrait; the colors, or events in this case, bleeding together into a cruel image of that night. 

“What are you saying?” he asked, voice cracking as he searched your face for an answer. The words coming from your mouth slurred but determined. 

“I’m not an idiot, Lando. What else would you be doing when you go out to celebrate your wins for races I didn't attend?”

“You think I’m cheating on you? This is what this whole thing is about?” his voice raised with slight anger. 

“Yeah,” you raised your voice back at him. You wanted to blame the sudden burst of jealousy completely on the alcohol, but you knew that would be a lie, there had always been an insecure pit in your stomach that had only been growing since you began dating. “You’re an attractive, famous athlete. It would be weird if you weren’t.”

“What's the point of being in a relationship if you can’t trust me?”

“The door is wide open, Lando. No one is holding you here by force,” you hadn’t meant those words, but they couldn’t be taken back. 

“Is that what you want? You want to break up?” you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, let alone answer his question. “Fine,” he whispered, running a hand over his face, pacing around the hotel room, “Alright.”

The only memory that seemed to feel concrete and not muddled by all the drinks of the night prior, was the moment you woke up the following day. The sloppily written note on a receipt from some club letting you know that he had left per your request. And even though he didn’t explicitly say things were over, it wasn’t difficult to understand what the note was implying. Beside the fact that you two no longer interacted as a couple, everything else seemed normal, especially to those who didn’t pry beyond surface level. It was for good reason that you two did this; Carlos would have taken your side regardless of the situation, and you didn’t want to be the root cause of a possible falling out. Maybe that's why you didn’t blame Max and Kelly when they told you that you would be sharing a room with Lando for their wedding. 

You had somehow arrived before Lando, taking that time to unpack and mentally prepare to be in such an intimate space with him after such a long time apart. Things were definitely going to be awkward; you were certain you would have to tell everyone the truth about the status of your relationship. It was becoming increasingly clear to you that lying to everyone hadn’t been the best idea. But telling the truth now, when it had been months of lying, was certain to dampen the vibe of the next few days and put a rift between everyone involved. So as Lando walked into the room you couldn't stop yourself from blurting out your disapproval. 

“We can’t possibly tell them the truth– it would ruin everything, and I refuse to ruin Max and Kelly’s wedding week.” 

He stared blankly at you, shutting the door and placing his suitcase beside it, “Jesus, could you give a man a few seconds. I’ve just barely walked through the door.” You ran a nervous hand through your hair, pacing across the expanse of the room. How could he look so calm about this, you envied how well he played things off. No matter how much things truly affected him, he always had to have an obnoxious nonchalant air to him. “You’re making me dizzy,” he let out a slight chuckle that made your eye twitch.

“I’m sorry for being the only one concerned over this, Lando.” 

“More like paranoid. Relax, there's nothing to be concerned about,” he said with a light shrug, throwing himself onto the only bed. It stuck out like a sore thumb, a reminder of how difficult it would be to ignore him over the next couple of days. 

“What are we going to do about that?” you asked, nodding towards the bed a tense expression plastered on your usually calm face. 

“We’re adults, sharing a bed isn’t a big deal, right?”

“Not a big deal at all,” you agreed, letting out a shaky breath attempting to calm your nerves. He nodded, giving you an awkward smile– the only sign of the emotions he was hiding behind his mask. For a moment you were sure he was just as concerned as you were, if not more.

ʚ‎‏ ͜ ̩͙ ︵ ̩͙ ୨ ♡ ୧ ̩͙ ‏︵ ̩͙ ͜ ɞ

Rehearsal dinners, a momentous event for any wedding. Sure, the actual wedding ceremony and reception are consequential, but the rehearsal dinner sets the tone for those two. Landos presence alone hand you high strung, now add the high stake of this fake commitment you both had. The clamminess of your hands increased tenfold as you sat beside him, occasionally giving a small smile as Lando conversed with those around you. The conversations around you seemed to fade as you focused on the napkin in front of you. Its stark whiteness against the deep colors of the tableware around it making it stand out. It almost felt like the napkin was taunting you, as if saying, “You’re not fooling anyone, you two stand out as much as I do in this sea of real couples.”

“Are you okay?” Carlos asks you from across the table, face etched into a mix of concern and suspicion. Your silence throughout this whole ordeal becoming a clear indicator that something was wrong. 

“Hm?”

“I asked if you're okay,” he repeated, eyes glancing between you and Lando. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you responded with a shaky smile. 

Carlos' eyes narrowed at you, clearly not buying your answer, he seemed to want to say more but hesitated. Lando quickly intercepted the conversation moving on to a topic he could easily control. 

“How much do you want to bet that Max will cry tomorrow?” Lando asked, a playful smirk making its way onto his face, “I say he starts crying as soon as he gets ready for the ceremony.” 

“I bet you’ll cry more at your wedding,” Carlos says smiling at you and Lando, it's clear he's fond of the idea of a wedding between his sister and close friend. 

“Yeah, probably, but we have a few more years until we even start worrying about that,” Lando placed a hand behind your chair, his fingers gently grazing the exposed skin of your back. 

“You didn’t deny the idea of a wedding, does that mean you plan to marry my sister?”

“Let's slow down, mate. I'm not going to deny or admit anything,” Lando let out a laugh, tracing soft shapes onto your shoulder. For once his words and actions didn’t feel forced, as if this were second nature to him. It was almost impossible to tell if he was being truthful in his response or if it was all part of the act. You stared at the half empty glass of wine in front of you, hands moving on their own accord to bring the glass to your lips allowing you to nearly down it all in one go. You were going to need a lot more to drink if you were going to sell the act.

Maybe you had underestimated how much you had to drink or perhaps everything was becoming too hard to control. You felt Landos arm wrap around your waist as he guided you back to your shared room, whispering about something you had done though you didn’t catch what he said and you could hardly remember the rest of the dinner. 

“You’re a lightweight,” Lando sighed as he sat you at the edge of the bed, kneeling down to unstrap your heels. His touch against your bare ankle felt nothing short of electric, something so intense and mind numbing. 

“I’ve missed you,” you drunkenly admit, running your foot against his chest. 

His grip on your ankle tightens in an attempt to hinder your movement, “hm,” he hums out as a response, impulsively lifting your leg up to press a small kiss to the inside of your ankle. The familiar pressure of his lips against your skin erupts your skin in goosebumps. 

“We’re more in love than ever before,” you say, giving Lando one of the most sincere smiles he's seen from you in a while, his grip on your shoulder tightening slightly as you talked to Kelly, “Right, Lando?”

“Absolutely madly in love,” he says, leaning in to press a kiss to your cheek. He hadn't expected you to move and plant your lips against his in a sloppy drunk kiss, drawing laughs from those around you. 

His lips continue to travel up your calf, his eyes trained on your face to catch any glimpse of change in your expression. He pushes you down against the bed, hovering over you, “You’re drunk,” he lets out a sigh, resting his head in the crook of our neck. 

“And?”

“We shouldn’t do this while you're drunk– I refuse to do this while you're drunk,” Lando whispers, unsure if he's trying to convince you or himself, “I don’t want you to regret this when you're sober, and it's just wrong.”

You grab his face, pulling him away from his hiding spot in your neck. You stare at him for a while before bringing his face closer to your own, gently meeting your lips in a surprisingly fluid kiss. 

Lando quickly pulls away, standing from his spot on top of you, “No, not while you’re… like that,” he rubs a hand on his face, gesturing frustratedly at you. He grabs a pillow and a sheet from the bed, laying on the decently sized couch in the room deciding it would be better to sleep away from you– considering the state you were in. 

The blinding light coming from the window awoke you the following morning, your pulsating headache the only reminder of the night before. Lando was already awake, still laying on the couch typing away on his phone. He seemed to feel your gaze on him, “How are you feeling?” he asked, sitting up to get a better look at you, his voice filled with slight concern.

“I’ve felt better, can’t remember shit,” you admit, placing a hand on your forehead as if it would do anything to calm the pulsing headache. 

“That's probably for the better,” he stares at you longingly, it's clear that he does remember whatever happened at the rehearsal dinner and your shared room, “we should begin getting ready, we can’t be late to Max and Kellys big day.” You wanted to press him for answers, force him to reveal the source of his distant attitude, but decided against it. Things couldn’t get more tense between you, especially not tonight.

ʚ‎‏ ͜ ̩͙ ︵ ̩͙ ୨ ♡ ୧ ̩͙ ‏︵ ̩͙ ͜ ɞ

The wedding ceremony had been beautiful, Max had indeed cried almost as soon as Kelly began to make her way towards him. And even now as they sat together at the wedding reception you could catch the hint of a happy tear poke its way out of his eyes. 

You felt Landos hand slip around your waist, pulling you closer to his side. He had remained by your side since the wedding ceremony, refusing to leave you for even a second. His actions felt less forced than they had previously felt. And as he leaned in to whisper something in your ear bits and pieces of the day prior began to escape the floodgates of your mind. 

You let out a small giggle as Lando whispered into your ear, “stop it, you’re not acting like yourself. They’ll catch on,” his breath tickling you. 

“I just love you so much,” you whispered back, placing a kiss to the corner of his lips, giggling to yourself like a child. You’d never been big on PDA but in your drunken state you couldn’t seem to keep your hands and lips off of Lando. 

“You too are adorable, as in love as when you first started dating– perhaps even more in love,” Alexandra said from beside Charles, smiling between you and Lando. 

“Our love has definitely grown. We’re going to get married and have kids,” you leaned into Landos touch, your smile widening at Alexandra's words. 

“Okay, you've had way too much to drink– I think it's time to go to bed. We’ll see you guys tomorrow,” Lando announced to the table, shaking his head with a nervous laugh. 

“Oh we’re sure you're gonna go to bed,” Daniel teased, causing the table to erupt in laughter.

“Hey, you okay?” Lando asked, concern written all over his face, his eyes dancing across your face. 

“Yeah.”

“You spaced out, didn’t even react to what I said.”

“What did you say?” you asked, finally snapping out of the memory of the night prior. 

He stared at you, his face still overtaken with concern, “I said, we sold the lie pretty good…” he whispered. If you didn’t know better you'd think he was upset, upset that it was all a show. For a moment he frowned, quickly smiling again, “Lets go dance,” he grabbed your hand, dragging you to the dance floor. 

Lando placed his hands on your hips, pulling you close to him, moving you both to the rhythm of the song. He smiled tenderly at you, and everything began to blur into a confusing mess. You weren’t sure what was real and what was a lie fabricated to convince everyone that you were still madly in love. He played the role of loving boyfriend so well that you were beginning to fall for the charade too, you were starting to believe that he still loved you and had never stopped. 

Your head found its way to his chest, resting there as if it were its official home. The both of you continued to silently sway to the music. The world around you seemed to disappear, almost as if you were the only ones that mattered at that moment. It was confusing how you felt so connected to him yet so far.

 Lando rested his shin atop your head for a moment. He straightened out his back, bringing your dancing to a halt, hand reaching to grasp your chin so that you were staring at him. “Please tell me you’re not faking it,” he whispered, his eyes desperately searching yours, “tell you still love me. That you’ve meant every fleeting touch, every stolen glance, every kiss you’ve given me this weekend… please.”

You weren't sure if it was the alcohol or his words that made the room around you spin, forcing you to grasp onto the jacket of his suit to stabilize yourself. The music you were dancing to just a moment ago now a murmured buzz in your ear. You wanted to be truthful, to admit that you had never stopped loving him and possibly never would. The look of desperation on his face urging you to confess your soul to him. “Of course I love you” you finally said aloud for the first time in months, relief instantly flooding his face. 

Lando cupped your cheek, gently caressing it, a genuine smile spreading across his face. Neither of you had been faking anything, that much was clear as his lips found their place on top of your own. It was gentle, not rushed but relaxed, as if you had until the end of times to relish in each other's presence. He pulled away after a while, letting your lips hover– barely touching, breathing in each other's shaky breaths. “Do you think they’d notice if we left?” he asked, looking around the reception.

“No, everyone is focused on Max and Kelly.”

“Good,” he said, slightly out of breath as he led you towards the exit. You silently thanked Max and Kelly for choosing to have their wedding close to where you were all staying. 

It didn't take you long to get back to your room, instantly finding each other in a heated kiss. Bodies pressing against one another as you desperately tried to get closer, almost as if you wanted to become one. 

“Take this off,” Lando mumbled against your neck as he pulled at the zipper of your dress in a pitiful attempt to help you get undressed. You let the fabric pool on the floor, kicking off your heels, leaving you exposed to his hunger filled eyes. 

“It's not fair that I’m completely naked you’re not,” you complained as he guided you towards the bed, gently pushing you onto it when the back of your knees hit the edge. 

He tossed his suit jacket aside, his fingers attempting to quickly and smoothly unbutton his shirt, “better?” he asked as he was left shirtless. 

You sat up for a moment, your hands working to rid him of his trousers, smiling and resting back on the bed when you finally succeeded, “Much better.”

Lando pressed himself against you, placing kisses down your neck, “You’re beautiful,” he whispered, your hands tangling themselves into his hair as you pulled him up for a kiss. It was much more rushed than the previous kisses had been, his teeth clashing against your own, your tongues pressing against one another. His hands ran up and down the expanse of your body before finding their new home atop your breasts, each one kneading at them. 

You wrapped your hand around his wrist, pulling his hand down towards your pussy, gasping at his thumb rubbed against your clit. He pulled away from your lips, leaving you out of breath, kissing down your body. "Please,” you whispered as he positioned himself between your legs, pressing soft kisses to your thighs. Running his tongue up your slit, wrapping his lips on to your sensitive nub. Lando continued to switch between lapping at your cunt and sucking at your clit– teasing your entrance with his middle finger, slowly pushing it in. Encouraged by your moans and the wet squelching sound coming from between your thighs, he sped up his actions, swallowing at you like a starved man. You pushed against his head, back arching off the bed as your first orgasm of the night washed over you. 

Lando pulled away, smiling up at you, “still know how to get you off,” he said smugly, pressing a quick kiss to your thigh.

“Just shut up and fuck me,” you urged him, pulling him back up, pressing a kiss to his lips. 

“But teasing you is so fun.”

You rolled your eyes, wrapping your legs around him, quickly switching your position so that you were on top of him. “Don’t make me regret this,” you spat on your hand, taking his hard cock in your hand giving it a teasing jerk. 

“Please don’t” he grunted, your finger running against his slit. Your brows drawn together in concentration as you lined him up to your entrance, letting out a shaky breath as sank down onto him. You took a moment to adjust to having him inside you, resting your hand against his chest to steady yourself as you lifted your hips and brought them back down. You let out a shaky breath as you began to ride him, guiding his hands up to your breasts and they bounced with your movement. You had forgotten how full it felt to have him within you– clenching around his cock as he sucked at one of your breasts, rolling the other nipple between his fingers. 

Your pace faltered as you lost yourself in the pleasure, letting out loud gasps as Lando began to thrust up to meet your movements. He wrapped his hand around your hips, bringing them down harder to meet his thrusts. Landos pace increased as your nails dug into his chest, rhythm becoming sloppy as he felt his orgasm approach. “I should probably pull out,” he rasped but made no attempt to do so. 

“It's okay, I'm on birth control,” you breathed out. 

“Shit,” he stilled your movements, spilling inside of you, his fingers finding their way back to your clit in an attempt to pull another orgasm from you. Your head fell into the crook of his neck as you came for a second time. The room around you spinning slightly as you attempted to catch your breath. 

“Do you think they’ve noticed we’re gone?” he asked breathlessly, voice still shaky. 

“Definitely.”

“Should we go back?”

“No,” you respond, lifting yourself off of Lando to lay beside him. You had no desire to redress and mingle at the reception after what had happened. You couldn't trust your feet to carry you for the rest of the night, especially when you still felt the dizzying effects of sex.

ʚ‎‏ ͜ ̩͙ ︵ ̩͙ ୨ ♡ ୧ ̩͙ ‏︵ ̩͙ ͜ ɞ

They had noticed your absence, and they teased you relentlessly about it the few days after the wedding. You had reconciled with Lando, your relationship going back to the way it was before the stupid argument. And with that reconciliation came the confession, in which you confessed to everyone that you had briefly broken up. Although the break up had been entirely your fault, upon hearing the confession Carlos glared at Lando– muttering not so empty threats to him about not hurting you. You were certain he would have strangled Lando if you hadn’t reconciled. 

You smiled up at Lando as you lounged in the living room, resting your head back onto his chest. He placed a lingering kiss on the stop of your head, wrapping his arms around you. This had been your reality since Max and Kellys wedding, pure bliss. You couldn’t experience and explore for one another every waking moment. 

“I could stay like this forever,” Lando whispered into your hair, his grip around you tightening as if he were scared to lose you again. Or as if he thought this were a dream and you'd vanish at any moment with the simple sound of an alarm. But you were real and you weren’t going to lose one another again, you wouldn't allow that. 

“Me too,” you whispered back, “I love you.”

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚

*ੈ✩‧₊˚Note: feel free to request something, Beware: I am slow at posting and have a lot of drafts that are yet to be posted. I'm like running on 4 hours of sleep and celsius, so I apologize for the grammar and spelling mistakes. I didn't do this request justice but I tried (I swear)

[nondelphic]

the five stages of grief: writer's edition

denial: "this draft is amazing. no need for edits. it’s practically perfect as is." you’re so confident that you close the document for the day, smiling like you’ve just discovered the next great american novel (or swedish, or british, whatever). plot hole? who is she?

anger: "why did i ever think this was good? this is garbage. i am garbage. my characters are flat, my dialogue is cringe, and my prose sounds like a robot swallowed a thesaurus and threw up on the page." rage-quit the doc and go aggressively scroll pinterest for "writing inspiration" that you will never use.

bargaining: "if i fix this one scene, the whole thing will click into place. i just need to write one more subplot, maybe five more chapters, a quick rewrite of the entire ending, and then it'll be fine. totally manageable." queue up 17 youtube videos on "how to fix your plot" that you play in the background while staring at your ceiling.

depression: "i will never finish this book. it’s doomed. i’m doomed. why do i even write? who let me have ideas?!" lay dramatically on your bed, considering taking up knitting or rock collecting instead. cry a little over how your characters deserve a better writer.

acceptance: "this is the best i can do right now, and that’s okay. i’ll take a break, come back with fresh eyes, and remember why i love this stupid, broken story." suddenly, your MC whispers something brilliant, and you're like wait… maybe i'm a genius after all.

and the cycle begins again. writing is a joy.

[lovieku]

HANDS ON ME ⋆ 정국

𐙚 if you like what you see, baby put your hands on me.

it’s about to look like jeongguk’s birthday everyday with you.

based on this ask

from the grande series ୨ৎ

pairing: nerd!jk x popular!fem reader

genre: smut

ratings: 18+ / mdni

warnings: lower case intended, jk is inexperienced and sooo whipped, it’s his birthday!!! and he’s getting it hhhh, lowk dom!oc x sub!jk, size kink, tit play, dry humping, brief coochie play, cum eating omfg, blow job, cutest babies ever

word count: 3.9k

a/n: first thing i saw this morning was that ask, so of course i had to write this. like THANK U ANON that was such a good idea yes yes yes. hope u enjoy 🩷🩷

🏷️ perm taglist: @ceellliiinee @jaytheatiny @dolligguk @luvismenu @theyloveyams @stillwjk-channie-lixie @bookstoread199 @girlygguk @vieviela @myngiii @angelxkoo @nnybtitts08 @mpbrinkss @https-mei @lyywst @mhdelu @apobangpogirlyyy @khadeeeeej @awrkive @nooooooooonnneeeeeee @vantelover1306

────୨ৎ────

jeongguk didn’t wish for his birthday party to look like this.

the second he casually mentioned that his parents would be out of town on the very same day he would turn 21, his small friend group (consisting of the two nerdiest guys in college, probably even battling him for the top spot) took it on them to turn what he imagined would be a calm, quiet night spent with the comfort of jimin and taehyung in front of video games into a contending rival of a literal frat party. in his own house. when he never approved of it, nor asked for it.

there’s an inestimable amount of faces he has never seen before this moment, but they all seem to know him, congratulating him every time he comes in their vision. then, they go back to drinking, kissing, soft-fucking on his couch, and seemingly pumping up the volume of the music more and more with each blasting and ungraceful song.

that is probably why he’s struggling a bit more than he usually does with breathing. he’s a huge germaphobe, and having all these strangers barge into his space and lean on every possible surface with their greasy, alcohol stained hands has him close to hyperventilating.

he still hasn’t figured out how his two friends did it, but they managed to involve what looked like the whole uni into coming at jeongguk’s 21st birthday party like it was an unmissable event. it truly did seem like one, though, the birthday boy looking around in a confused awe and realizing this is all he’s ever missed from his teenage years. meh. not all that.

what really got him struggling to breathe is you. you, the most popular girl in college, talks about you on the mouths of all guys and girls in the hallways, loved yet envied by every single one of them, are here. and when you greeted him, you did so with a kiss for each of his cheeks. he stood there like he truly was going to let his lungs stop working, and you just smiled up at him through your long lashes and big eyes.

you’re not popular for the cliché reasons a girl in college might be. you’re not mean, you don’t square uncool people from head to toe with a judging look, you’re not known to be scary and unapproachable. the reason why you’re surrounded by a devoted swarm of bees is because you’re the literal definition of an angel.

an angel always ready to help anyone who seems like struggling, flash them with pearly whites, and be impossible to resist with bug, wide eyes conveying all your most honest emotions.

you’re known for genuine reasons. he’s never even heard many rumors about you, and if he did he assumed it was coming from way too envious people. the only thing he allowed himself to believe about your privacy, is that you’re very caring in bed.

he won’t admit it, feels disgusting for it, but he’s touched himself to that thought a couple of times. maybe more.

it doesn’t matter now, because you’re closer to him than you’ve ever been, and you sit in the overwhelming circle that has formed on the floor of his living room, people he has never even talked to proposing games and pushing drinks into his hand since he’s now 21.

unlike most people, that number doesn’t mean a lot to him. he’s not that thrilled about the knowledge that he can now get his hands on anything that was previously denied to him, alcohol and substances of those sorts. he never liked them, and he doesn’t think he will just because of this newfound freedom.

he’s now getting the full experience when someone, sharp-eyed and drunk on audacity, spots the wooden door to his dad’s wine cellar left slightly ajar and suggests seven minutes in heaven with the kind of enthusiasm jeongguk imagines newton felt when that apple hit his head.

on his right, jimin panics for jeongguk, “you’re not going to fuck in mr. jeon’s wine cellar.”

“who said anything about fucking?” dahye, a friend of yours, the complete opposite of you with a mean aura and sliced eyes, intervenes and has everyone laughing.

jimin rolls his eyes and plops down from where he straightened up on his knees, and jeongguk stays silent. he gave up fighting long ago, when the first drink spilled on his carpet.

he just gives a tight-lipped smile when his blonde friend tries an apologetic look, shaking his head and studying the room. jeongguk gulps when his eyes inevitably fall on yours, and he finds you already staring, an intensity he hasn’t seen often. when he’s sure he’s perfectly resembling a deer caught in headlights, you tilt your head amusedly, and he hastily focuses back down on his lap.

“well, since jimin is so afraid we’re gonna break his boyfriend’s stuff,” dahye continues, feeding off the childish chuckles coming from around her, and maybe also off jimin’s annoyed glare, “why don’t we let the birthday boy go first?”

at that, jeongguk’s head snaps up, his fluffy hair bouncing with the sudden movement, and he looks around wide eyed. he’s not sure what the game entails, he just knows something is supposed to happen, but he’s not sure exactly what the people hungrily gawking at him are expecting.

taehyung is about to add something when dahye interrupts once again, resting her hand on your lap beside her, “he can go with ___. i know that would make his day.”

sitting at her left, you’re the only one who doesn’t laugh at the sneaky implication; instead, you glare at your friend, who shrugs in response.

both jimin and taehyung fall in total silence, their eyes alarmingly looking at their friend in the middle. jeongguk seems a hundred times more panicked, but not because of the same reasons.

while his two best friends are simply excited at the prospect of jeongguk’s every dream coming true, eagerly expecting a positive answer from his mouth, jeongguk’s whole focus is on you, and your seemingly impassive face. his mind spins with haunting worries, giving at least twenty different interpretations to the way you’re looking at him, brows subtly twitching up.

he clumsily parts his lips to say something, but with absolutely no senseful thought swarming his brain, nothing comes out.

a beat of anticipated silence goes by before you gracefully stand up, all eyes following you, and even if quiet, your voice goes through the music, “let’s go, gguk.”

jeongguk loudly gulps, and he hopes the sound isn’t heard, but he doubts it since he’s receiving a scary amount of attention that goes over what he’s received his whole life.

if it wasn’t for the two guys at his sides pushing him to stand up, he would have stayed with his ass perched to the floor. instead, he stumbles and almost trips, meeting your eyes with awkward shame as you just softly smile at his gawkiness.

you don’t wait for him, daintily walking to the room victim of the game, pushing the door open and curiously peeking inside. jeongguk hastily jumps over the people sitting on the ground, still quietly observing the scene, and he’s at your side way faster than the time it took for him to even realize what was about to happen.

he exhales loudly at the proximity, standing behind you and basking in the height difference, your head barely reaching his chest, and he thinks he truly sees heaven when you turn around to look up at him, grinning delicately as you tilt your head back, “wanna go in?”

jeongguk is sure he has lost the capability to speak. no matter the sounds he tries to force up his throat, they’re not strong enough to fight their way out. he simply closes the door behind the two of you, and he’s glad when it significantly helps drown out the loud music and drunkish chatter.

he’s less glad for it when it means he’s officially left alone with you in a relatively cramped space, the silence almost more suffocating than the room and its strong smell. but he’s convinced you must be an angel when you don’t complain, not even slightly, your face the expression of composure.

he stands in the middle of the cellar while you explore it in a circle, letting your heels click on the parquet floor and your fingers carefully brush the wine bottles.

the simple action makes him feel hot, naughty mind conjuring up images of you tracing his skin with such care, and he releases a shaky breath before you can stop him, blurting his messy thoughts out, “we— we don’t have— have to do anyt—”

“sit on that stool, gguk.”

the command is anything but harsh, your voice a soft melody of calmness, but it still startles him. no, it shakes something in his chest, traveling all the way down to where he’s starting to feel a strong urge.

you point to a wooden stool in the corner of the room, which doesn’t look too high, but when he obediently goes to sit on it with his knees wobbling, you promptly place yourself in front of him and grin at the way he’s still almost at face level with you, his forehead reaching only a little under your chin.

his huge proportions compared to yours have always managed to make your head spin and thighs squeeze together whenever you managed to sit next to him in the few lectures you shared, lashes fluttering seductively to have him fix nonexistent bugs on your computer just to see his wide hand close to yours on the keyboard.

now, with his puppy eyes staring up at you expectantly, his drawn up brows only emphasizing his yearning, you need to steady yourself with hands on his shoulder to hold back from quite literally grinding on him. you whisper, “good.”

his orbs shake impossibly more, and from the corner of your eye you see his fingers fidgeting in his lap, fighting a delirious need. his legs are spread just enough for you to be standing right in the middle of them, but you push yourself further into him, his chin lifting up even higher to never be forced to look away from your firm gaze, hanging from your lips when you voice an apology, “i didn’t bring a gift, ggukkie.”

jeongguk is almost panting, the endearing nicknames only adding to the warmth of your sweet body, your vanilla scent clouding his senses and gouging the truth out of him, “th—that’s okay, ___. i—i’m very happy you’re here.”

you smile, but it’s one he’s never seen on you. it’s not one of those you flash when you’re grateful, understanding, or even amused. it’s mischievous, almost belittling. “are you saying i’m your gift?”

his eyes widen, and he’s ashamed of the way your accusative tone causes him to throb in his jeans, and in his speech too, “huh— oh my god. i’m so sorry. that must sound so—”

you chuckle, stroking his broad back with your hands sliding across his width, “hey, slow down. it sounds so very cute coming from your lips.”

jeongguk appreciates your efforts at trying to put him at ease, truly. but your soothing touch and words only have him in a state of alert, even more when your fingers travel up his nape and find home in his locks. you’re impossibly close now, and he feels your voice resounding within him, “but i’m still not satisfied. i wanna give you more, make you forgive me.”

your whisper fans over his lips, and he unconsciously parts them for you, his eyes hooded by the second and glassed over with desperate want. you smirk.

stepping back enough for his neck to rest at a comfortable angle, he whimpers deliciously at the loss of your touch, but you shut him up just as quickly when your dress is off you and on the wooden floor in a swift motion.

jeongguk is definitely panting now, breathing manually and focusing too much on having his heart pump oxygen for him rather than the view of your exposed body in front of him.

he gradually realizes he could care less about dying right now if it means the last thing he’s going to be faced with is your nipples hardening with the cool, and hopefully something else, and your lacy white panties barely covering your core.

jeongguk stares like a starved man being met with his first meal after weeks of seeking, his hands trembling on his thighs and squeezing into suppressing fists.

his gasp turns into an awfully high-pitched moan when you hook a finger under the hem of your lingerie, sliding it daintily down your legs and walking out of it, never breaking eye contact with him. only thing you’re left with are your high heeled boots.

the next thing you do has the organs that keep all his vital functions going completely stop working, his heart missing more than ten beats and catching up with an alarmingly fast speed, causing his voice to shake, “___, wh—what are you—”

swinging one of your legs, you sit on him with your ingloriously stained panties pressing right on his crotch, hands placed back on the base of his neck, basking in the way you can feel his rapid beating under your fingers.

you lean into his ear, “if you like what you see, you can put your hands on me, baby.”

jeongguk throws his head back for air, his chest heaving with trembling exhales before he finds your eyes again, and in the fraction of second he needed to look elsewhere if he didn’t want to bust in his tight pants already, you’re a whole different person.

your eyes are sliced, pupils blown and hooded, and your parted lips stretch just enough to paint a wicked smirk over your face, its effects flooding right down his stomach and making you feel his hardness through the material.

his hands dance a panicked rhythm hovering over your sides, not sure what to do, not deeming himself deserving of feeling your skin under his touch. but you take it upon yourself to guide them, pressing his palms against your hips and letting them ride up your exposed breasts.

he whimpers, fingertips unconsciously testing the sense of the soft curve of your boobs with a subtle press, but it’s not enough. you can’t feel him.

with your hands still on his, you arch yourself further into his touch and have his thumbs slice over your sensitive nubs, letting out a moan of your own that goes over his low groan. you lick your lips and struggle to find your breath and words too, but you whisper them through an already too fucked out smile, “see? you can touch me, just like that.”

the go-ahead is all he needs for him to dive his head right into your chest, his tongue catching your nipple in an unpracticed hunger, messily sucking on it and quickly leaving your skin soaked with spit. he works clumsily with his hand on your other tit, movements uncoordinated and unsure.

but the fact that he seems to not care about his inexperience, willing to learn right at this moment all it takes for you to keep whimpering and trembling when he touches, has your usually composed senses lost in a haze of desire, the need to give your all to the nerdy boy that is finally being properly touched just as he turns 21 clouding your senses and pushing you to unconsciously buck your hips against his.

he moans with his mouth full of you, his free hand gripping your thigh, and he tries to stop it but he can’t help the way he meets your grinding, snapping up as if he lost all sort of control over his body. he quite literally wails in desperation, “fuck— don’t— don’t do that. i’m gonna— oh, god.”

“you’re gonna cum?” you sound just as crazed, hips rutting at a faster speed on him, the slickness smearing all over his jeans and leaving a wet patch right where his dick stays confined.

“no! i— i mean, just give me a second, shit. i swear, i—”

“ggukkie, this is about you. i’ll make you cum, hm? how’s that sound?” the sweet sound of your promise has him seeing stars, eyes squeezing shut as he feels himself getting close to a point he doesn’t think he’s ever reached before.

until he’s back to zero.

you lift your hips off his, helping your weight up by placing your hands on his broad shoulders, and you sport a devilish smile when he opens his eyes again, protest ready on his tongue. his brows are furrowed and there’s tears ready to spill out from his eyelids, but you don’t let them.

the huge palm that was still fondling your breast is now being led by you further down, until it disappears between you. you have him cup your wet core, the intensity of the moment only heightened by your gaze never leaving his, “touch me.”

when panic flashes over his expression once again, you instruct him through it just how you did minutes before, and he quickly gets the hang of it. you always appreciated him being a fast learner, but you couldn’t imagine that it would come handy in a scenario like this one.

you hum when his ring and middle finger trace your slit, only to come up to try and find your clit in a surprisingly good attempt, “good, get all of it. make your hand wet.”

the moment squelching sounds reach your ears, you leave your seat from his lap and stand on your heels again. he whines, unknowingly reaching for you, but you halt his hand and redirect it on the zipper of his jeans. you tilt your chin, “take them off.”

he’s quicker than he was at the beginning of his seven minutes in heaven now, freeing himself from the tight pants, boxers going along with it, and his cock springs free deliciously, standing tall and proud against his tummy.

you groan, almost already falling to your knees like you are planning to do soon. it’s an adjective you don’t think you’ve ever used on any of the guys you’ve been with, but jeongguk’s cock is pretty. its pink tip matches his lips, swollen from the harsh biting, and it doesn’t look rough. it has just the perfect length, girth, and when it twitches under your awe, you see it bend subtly to the right.

you smile, meeting his face again, delirious need written all over it, “stroke your cock with the hand you touched me with,” the second the order is out your lips, he’s already working himself. you can see him trying to go at a merciful speed, his grip loose, and it makes you grin amusedly, “mh, aren’t you so obedient. let me have a taste, gguk.”

you clearly have noticed that he’s not as quick on his feet as he usually is, brain clouded, so you once again take it upon yourself to lead his hand, this time introducing two of his fingers in your warm mouth. you hum loudly around the thick digits, eyes rolling back, and you speak around them, “fuck, you wanna try that?”

you don’t wait for him to reply, knowing it would get him minutes that you sadly don’t have to formulate a senseful answer, and you simply feed him his own fingers, carefully watching the way he lets his cheek hollow around them. you chuckle feverishly, “we taste so good together, don’t we?”

he nods eagerly, eyes glassy with more tears, and you think you can see one drop at the side of his face just as you fall to your knees in front of his seated body, your pretty figure even smaller from his view, and he’s graced with your bug eyes staring up at him through long lashes.

you don’t waste any more time, knowing there’s not much left in the heaven you’ve created for your own, and you wrap your ravenous mouth around him, showing none of the previous mercy in your speed.

he lets his mouth hang open, moans uncontrollably loud, and he needs to grab the sides of his stool to get the illusion of some sort of power still left within him. he closes his eyes in bliss, but quickly snaps them open when he realizes what he’s missing.

you’re bobbing your head up and down his length, and you still manage to maintain that dainty elegance that characterizes you, slim fingers gripping around the base and making up for the spots you can’t reach. he pants on the verge of a heart attack, pitch high as he begs, “fuck. look— look up at me, please.”

you do, aligning yourself better to meet his frenzied state, eyes communicating all the words you can’t say, too engaged in having him unravel all over your lips. he groans at the eye contact, thinking back to all the times he’s seen this exact scene flash behind his closed eyelids, and he’s a fool for even believing his mere imagination could compare.

it will never be enough, never again. not after this. not after knowing what you look like as you devote yourself to him, precise movements getting him closer, the way your tongue flickers out to reach down further and how you let his tip meet the back of your throat finally causing him to snap his hips up involuntarily, and before he can say something to warn you, he’s painting your warm mouth with his cum.

ropes of white, hot liquid spill out from you, but you promptly collect all of it, making sure not a single drop is missed, gulping it down with eager want. you wordlessly smile up at him, infatuated with the way his chest heaves and his lips part, trying to regain some composure.

he thinks he will need hours to fully recover. and he’s not even sure he wants this moment to end, blurting his predominant thought out before he knows it, “i wanna make you feel good, too.”

you chuckle as you get up, quickly soothing your knees before collecting your panties from the ground and walking back inside them, “it’s okay, baby. this was my birthday gift for you, hm? besides, we don’t have much time left before the others come in.”

“but…”

jeongguk helplessly watches as you get dressed, cringing at the stickiness of your wet core but nonetheless slipping your flowy dress back on. he just had the best orgasm of his life from the girl he firmly believes to be the love of his life, and he doesn’t get to give it back. oh, he feels like an absolute asshole.

you seem to read it all simply by scanning his face fondly, words soft, “that doesn’t mean you won’t get to do that, you cute boy. you will, and soon.”

when you’re done fixing the creases over your clothes, you walk to him and help him back in his jeans. tucking his softening length in, you lift up the zip of his pants and you’re glad for the way the patch of your wetness seems to have dried.

standing between his spread legs, you brush a hand through his hair, tenderly watching the way his curls fall and tickle his forehead. you smile and whisper quietly, “i got your number from dahye. i’ll text you, okay?”

he gulps, nodding hastily at your rhetorical question and feeling the blush creep up his neck. god, he must look like a total fool, “o—okay…”

humming lowly, you press your lips to his cheek, then to the tip of his nose, “you’re so pretty, you know that? don’t be sad.” next, your mouth rests on his, molding in a kiss that has his eyes shooting wide, and that ends way before he can even realize what’s happening. you chuckle at his expression, and you can’t resist another peck before promising, “happy birthday, gguk.”

[dissapointu]

how about the arcane characters seeing their crush fight someone for the first time (and winning)? and like, they just didn't know how strong reader truly is?

OH SNAP. YOU’RE OUT HERE THROWING HANDS AND TAKING NAMES?? The Arcane crew would LOSE IT seeing you handle business for the first time—especially since they had no idea you were this strong. They’d be standing there like, “Wait… when did you become a total badass??”

Jinx

Jinx would be cheering you on like a maniac.

• The moment she sees you throwing punches, she’s SCREAMING. “GET ‘EM! GET ‘EM! THAT’S MY CRUSH!”

• She’s doing the chaotic Jinx laugh the whole time, completely hyped up by your energy.

• When you win, she’s sprinting up to you, grabbing your face, and grinning like, “That was AMAZING! You’re, like, a total beast! Why didn’t you TELL me??”

• Lowkey? She wants to see it again. “We should start a fight club or something. You’d crush it!”

Vi

Vi is SHOOK but also a little turned on, let’s be real.

• She’s watching you handle the fight, and her jaw just DROPS. “Damn, I didn’t know you had it in you…”

• She’s impressed as hell, crossing her arms and nodding as you take down your opponent like a pro.

• When you win, she saunters up to you all casual but can’t hide the smirk. “Not bad. You’ve been holding out on me, huh?”

• You’d catch her sneaking little proud glances at you for the rest of the day. “That’s my kinda person.”

Sevika

Sevika’s eyebrows are practically in her HAIRLINE watching you fight.

• She didn’t think you had it in you, so she’s just standing there, arms crossed, staring like, “Well, damn. Look at you go.”

• When you win, she’s all smug, leaning back and grinning. “Didn’t know you were such a badass. Guess I’ll have to start watching my back, huh?”

• She wouldn’t admit it, but seeing you fight earns you a TON of respect in her book. She’s definitely bringing it up later. “You know, not many people can throw a punch like that. I’m impressed.”

Silco

Silco is stunned but trying to act like he’s not.

• He’s watching the fight with a raised eyebrow, sipping his drink like, “Interesting.” But internally? He’s like, “Where have they been hiding this?”

• When you win, he calmly walks up to you, gives you an approving nod, and says something cryptic like, “You’re full of surprises. I admire that.”

• He’s definitely making mental notes about how you might be a bigger asset than he realized. But also? He’s secretly impressed by how you can handle yourself.

Vander

Vander is proud AND worried all at once.

• He’s watching you fight, hands on his hips, muttering stuff like, “Didn’t think they had that in ‘em… but damn, they’re good.”

• When you win, he walks up to you with the classic dad voice: “You alright? Didn’t know you could handle yourself like that. You really showed ‘em, though.”

• He’s proud as hell but makes you promise not to take unnecessary risks. “I know you’re strong, but don’t go looking for trouble, yeah?”

Ekko

Ekko is blown away and immediately HYPED.

• He’s watching you fight like, “Ohhh snap! Look at them GO!” He’s bouncing on his heels, ready to jump in if you need backup, but realizing… you don’t.

• When you win, he’s practically tackling you in excitement. “That was AMAZING! Since when were you such a badass??”

• He’s 100% bragging about you to the Firelights later. “My crush? Absolute legend. You should’ve seen them.”

Jayce

Jayce is equal parts surprised and impressed.

• He’s standing there with wide eyes, muttering, “Wait, when did they learn how to do THAT?”

• When you win, he’s immediately running over, grinning like a golden retriever. “That was insane! You’re incredible—how come you never told me you could fight like that?”

• He’s hyping you up for DAYS afterward. “No, seriously, did you see how they took that guy down? Absolute powerhouse.”

Viktor

Viktor is completely blindsided.

• He’s watching the fight like, “Wait… what is happening right now?” He’s genuinely shocked because he didn’t think you were the type to throw hands.

• When you win, he’s just staring at you in awe. “You… you didn’t even break a sweat. That was incredible.”

• He’d definitely be curious about how you learned to fight and want to hear all the details. “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?”

Caitlyn

Caitlyn is lowkey AMAZED but trying to stay professional about it.

• She’s watching you fight, hands clasped behind her back, muttering under her breath like, “Impressive… very impressive.”

• When you win, she gives you a warm smile and says something like, “I always knew you were capable, but I didn’t realize you were THIS capable. Well done.”

• She’s super proud of you but probably a little worried you’ll get hurt next time. “Just… be careful, alright?”

Mel Medarda

Mel is intrigued and very, VERY impressed.

• She’s watching the fight with a small smile, sipping her wine like, “How fascinating.”

• When you win, she gracefully approaches you and says something smooth like, “You’ve been holding out on me. That was quite the performance.”

• She’s 100% filing this information away for later, already thinking about how your strength could come in handy.

Ambessa Medarda

Ambessa is IMPRESSED beyond belief.

• She’s watching you fight with a smirk, nodding to herself like, “They’ve got potential.”

• When you win, she strides up to you and claps a hand on your shoulder. “You fight with skill—and heart. I respect that.”

• She’d probably want to spar with you later just to test your limits. “Let’s see what else you’re capable of.”

Heimerdinger

Heimerdinger is both shocked and fascinated.

• He’s watching the fight with wide eyes, clutching his little staff like, “Oh dear, oh dear… they’re actually quite formidable!”

• When you win, he’s rushing over to check on you. “My word! That was… extraordinary. Are you alright?”

• He’d definitely want to know more about your skills. “Your technique is quite remarkable. Have you considered joining a combat academy?”

Salo

Salo is quietly impressed but not super showy about it.

• He’s watching you fight with a raised eyebrow, muttering under his breath like, “Huh. Didn’t see that coming.”

• When you win, he gives you a subtle nod and says something lowkey like, “Not bad. You’re tougher than you look.”

• He’s definitely rethinking everything he thought he knew about you.

Scar

Scar is losing his mind in the BEST way.

• He’s hyping you up the whole time, yelling stuff like, “GET ‘EM! That’s my crush right there!”

• When you win, he’s immediately running over, laughing and clapping you on the back. “That was EPIC! You’re my hero!”

• He’s bragging about you to literally everyone. “Yeah, my crush just took someone down like a pro. No big deal.”

Maddie Nolen

Maddie is floored but super proud.

• She’s watching you fight with wide eyes, quietly whispering, “Wow… they’re amazing.”

• When you win, she’s blushing and smiling as she walks over to you. “That was incredible. Are you always this strong?”

• She’d definitely admire you even more after seeing you hold your own like that.

Lest

Lest is completely captivated.

• She’s watching you fight with a mix of awe and concern, muttering to herself like, “They’re… really strong. I had no idea.”

• When you win, she’s rushing over to make sure you’re okay, brushing some imaginary dust off your shoulder. “That was amazing, but are you hurt? You’re incredible.”

• She’d probably be in awe of you for DAYS afterward. *“I can’t believe you did that. You’re amazing”

[thegoogoomuckkk]

Can I get a smau about them finding out you were a jujitsu sorcerer? Like you’ve been dating 4 years and you just casually drop it out of nowhere. Like a REALL strong one too (stronger than SUKUNA strong) ps. Let me be delusional pls😍

secrets pt. 1 -> them finding out you're actually a jujutsu sorcerer -> choso kamo, kento nanami, kiyotaka ijichi, satoru gojo, suguru geto, takuma ino

ok, first of all: thank you for this phenomenal request!!!! I love fulfilling requests, regardless of what they are because I just love interacting with you guys & sharing my writing with y'all, but it's always so fun & amazing to get a request that I'm so genuinely excited to fulfill & that inspires me as a creator, so thank you!!!

secondly: I kind of took the request & ran with it. I had a hard time coming up with a solution to like, why would they not know about it if they were dating, like that's an odd secret to keep?? So I originally planned on making this a pre-relationship kind of situation, but I have such a hard time with that, I always feel like anytime I try to create something like that it's so cringey & forced, idk??? So I'm sorry if this isn't exactly what you were asking for!

third: you'll notice the cast list for this smau is somewhat different than previous ones. I don't plan on keeping the same exact people or number of people in rotation for each post. When it comes to smau or writing in general, the last thing I want to do is force myself to create something. I typically don't add suguru to my smaus, but I felt like he really fit within this one & I had an idea for him. I didn't include any of the non-sorcerer characters because that made the most sense to me. In the future, if you'd like me to include a specific character (like suguru or sukuna, for example, who aren't in all of my smaus), just let me know; otherwise, it might be a mixed bag.

okay, fourth & final thing: this maybe only occurred to me, & if so, yay! but the whole time I was making this, I kept thinking that if this actually happened, they would probably never choose to have this conversation with you over text, & they'd probably have a much larger reaction. Those kinds of things are pretty difficult to capture in a 3-4 screenshot smau, if you know what I mean. Plus, angst is really not my bag at all; I wish it was & maybe I'll write more of it in the future, but not today.

xoxo, carlisle!

did you like it? -> here's my masterlist -> want something more? ask me for it

[not-so-mundane-after-all]

I know plenty of people have already made a version of the "Jinx is alive" theory post but I've also seen so many of you mourn her death that I decided to gather all the evidence and make another post, turning this theory into a fact.

Because Jinx is alive. It's not a speculation. It's literally there.

The first thing I'm going to mention are the context clues Jinx gives herself. First, the last thing the ghost of Silco tells her. I think the cycle only ends when you find the will to walk away. Then, the realization she comes to when Vi hugs her in the cell. You're never gonna give up on me, are you? What she tells Vi after she leaves her in that cell. You don't need to worry about me anymore. [...] And yes, her initial plan is to kill herself, because she thinks the only way for Vi to move on is for her to be gone. And Ekko gets there just in time to stop her but it looks like he doesn't convince her to abandon her plan, just change it.

And later, when she joins Vi in the final fight. What does she tell her? Still don't get it, huh, sis? I'm always with you. Even when we're worlds apart.

Everything that happens after is constructed specifically to let us and Vi believe that Jinx died. Until we get to this scene:

Caitlyn is studying the Hexgates designs.

She's looking through the pages depicting the place where the final fight happened, specifically focusing on the air vent shafts, while toying with a monkey bomb head - the same monkey bomb that Jinx used in her supposed last monents.

She looks down at the monkey...

Watch the eyes. The realization hits her...

And she smirks, knowing. Jinx used one of the air vents to escape before the explosion.

I've studied the explosion frame by frame. First, a small yellow explosion goes off - Jinx sets off the monkey bomb.

As it becomes bigger, she shoots out of there

this is still the beginning of the blast when we can still see her, and the big boom that destroys everything starts 10 frames later

Last context clue is a reference to the very first episode, which is clearly depicted in this gifset here, so instead of explaining, I'll just send you there to check for yourselves.

One thing that is speculation here is, how exactly did Caitlyn come into possession of the monkey bomb head? I doubt she found it there because it would have been turned to dust. And I'm thinking, Jinx took it with her and left it for Cait to find as a clue. She didn't want Vi to know but maybe she wanted Cait to figure it out. I imagine her sneaking into her house and maybe leaving it somewhere for Cait to find, like her desk or something. It gives Cait an idea, a gut feeling she needs to check, and that allows her to figure it out. Just like we are supposed to figure it out on our own.

Bottom line, Jinx is alive. She escaped the explosion through the air vents, then boarded the airship and left the city, convinced that the only way to give her sister a happy ending is to take herself out of the equation. The glitching closing shot saying The End in Jinx's colorful handwriting is a sign that she is telling us that this is where this story ends, like she's saying "don't look for me. It's over." That's also probably why we aren't shown what Caitlyn does with the information she now possesses.

I hope this helps take away from the grief 💙

[ego13]

LET ME IN YOUR OCEAN – YU JIMIN

now playing : chase atlantic - swim

SYNOPSIS : your mafia girl loves it too much when you bring her lunch to work (in fact, she doesn’t mind fucking you on her desk either.)

warnings : mafia!jimin, lesbian sex, service top!jimin, praise kink, hickeys, fingering sex in public places, pet names (princess, good girl, kitty).

pairing : yu jimin x fem!reader

you? oh, her favourite baby-girl, damn, jimin loves her girl too much, she loves to pamper you incredibly, because if this comes up in conversation, then yu does not hesitate to spend several million a day on her princess. expensive prada dresses, diamond necklaces and rings are what you literally swim in, bouquets of flowers, romantic dinners and then night walks in a black porsche with jimin - your daily routine, her hand on your thigh as you both silently drive through Seoul at night listening to your favorite playlist, during such moments it always seemed to you that there were only you two left in the world, and no one else

and if her girl wants it, jimin will buy the whole world for her, as long as it’s really just the two of you.

when you first saw her in the casino, you would never have thought that a cold-blooded member of the mafia could be such a gentle romantic, whose words always made your knees weak. one of the nicest things was that she was so close to you, she didn’t allow anyone to see her as tender except her princess, because you were the only one who truly deserved it. and the only downside of all this was the fact that she was often busy, although in a very interesting way she always made up for her guilt to you. a romantic dinner, another necklace and wonderful sex right against the wall in the hallway of your mansion is probably the best way for her to made it up.

waking up after another such evening, you realized that jimin was not next to him in bed, which made you slightly upset, after all, your desire to wake up in her arms, spending the whole morning sleepily hugging, alas, was cut short. you stretched, rubbing your eyes sleepily, reaching over to the bedside table and taking your phone off the charger, having unblocked it, the first thing you did was go into chat with yu, realizing that she didn’t even write about where and why it would be so early in the morning.

you : jiminnie? no good mornings? :(

you : i hope that you really have something important, because depriving me of morning hugs and breakfast in bed is a crime

just as you were about to get out of bed, several notifications came to your phone, and seeing the messages from yu, your face broke into a sleepy smile.

jim💘 : so sorry, princess, had to leave early, important meeting.

jim💘 : you know that i love you, princess?

jim💘 : i would never leave my precious girl without cuddles and kisses without reason.

jim💘 : i’ll be home in the evening, afterwards, expensive champagne and a delicious dinner, perhaps even a continuation in the bedroom, or in the kitchen, if I can’t restrain myself. i love u.

after reading the messages, you were mentally preparing for the upcoming evening, fuck, she knew exactly all your weak points, and knew where to hit so that you wouldn’t get angry. getting out of bed, you stretched again along the way, going into the kitchen, wanting to drink a glass of water, you noticed that you forgot to take lunch with you, which you carefully make every evening. a small pink lunchbox with hello kitty and a small love note is what jimin put in her black leather bag, and it made her heart beat faster every time.

you were a little upset, but you could put up with it, considering how flighty jimin can be sometimes, so you once again got excited about the idea of ​​going to her office to give lunch for her forgetful girlfriend. quickly getting dressed, you called the personal driver whom yu hired with the words 'my princess will not walk several kilometers on the asphalt every time with her beautiful legs so give me the most skilled driver'. the road was quite fast, and upon entering the large building, one of the bodyguards let you inside with a warm smile, personally escorting you to jimin's office.

knocking on the door several times, you opened it, seeing how she carefully rummages through documents in her damn sexy glasses, the way she looked made you turn into a waterfall every time you saw her. finally looking up from the papers, she smiled brightly, seeing her beloved girl.

"princess," getting up from the table, she took off her glasses and put them aside, she came closer to you, seeing a pink lunch box in your hands, "damn, I'm too forgetful and forgot my girl's lunch..." she awkwardly scratched the back of her head, taking it from your hands, placing it on the table, returning her gaze to you as her hands found their way to your hips, "you didn't have to drive halfway across town to see me, sweetheart, but I really fucking appreciate it, kitty..."

her lips carefully approached hers as your noses touched each other, finally pulling you into a slow and loving kiss, deepening the kiss, yu buried her head in the hair at the back of her head with one hand, and touched tour waist with the other hand. you hummed right into the kiss as she picked you up, moving her hands to her hips, and sat her on the table, settling between your legs. having stopped tormenting your lips, she lowered herself to your neck, while her free hand lifted your skirt, getting under your underwear, jimin began to slowly stimulate your clit, making circular movements, carefully watching your expression, searching for any hint of discomfort, “good girl... already so wet for me?"

your body kept shaking, and the thighs tried to close, but yu was standing between them, and did not allow this to happen. your hands fell on her shoulders, you pulled her closer, so close that ypu pressed herself against her, resting your head on her shoulder, her free hand nuzzled your thigh until her fingers finally slid inside you, causing you to let out a loud whine that was like honey to her ears, "just like that, you're doing so well, kitty, it feels like you were created for me to be inside you..."

yu's lips kissed your skin from your neck down, reaching the collarbones and leaving several purple marks there, again fell to her beloved neck, without ceasing to work with her fingers and feeling how your body began to tremble.

she felt with her fingers how the walls tightened around her fingers, enveloping and sucking, and in the next second a languid cry flew from your lips, which made her instinctively squeeze your waist tighter, not allowing you to fall off the table, on the contrary, helping you sit more comfortably, kissing your neck soothingly, enjoying the sight of the purple marks on your milky skin, "everything is fine, princess, my good girl..."

finally moving away from your neck, her hand combed the fallen strand of your hair behind your ear, smiling, she liked seeing you like this too much, all excited, trembling from orgasm, while your hair stuck to your forehead and barely visible drops of sweat flowed from your temple.

"you know, after such a “lunch”, I’m no longer as hungry as before your arrival, you can come to me more often, I’ll be all for it."

[subtextsays]

I hopped on their newsletter after seeing this vid. They posted this yesterday:

We’ve got a wild story to share, and some lessons to reflect on!

On October 23rd, we noticed things going a bit bananas. Sales were flying in, our social media channels were lighting up with new followers, and website traffic was off the charts. 

We were scratching our heads, wondering what on earth was happening.

Then, a call from our Co-Founder, Kim Beaton, connected the dots.

A lovely individual named Ruth, had shared a video of Kim presenting her famous tinfoil sculpting demonstration on the Weta Workshop stage. Kim does this talk weekly for hundreds of people, showing them how to sculpt with tinfoil, and then add Pal Tiya Premium to make weatherproof outdoor art.

People film Kim all the time because she has this magnetic, connective energy that excites and inspires. But for some reason, Ruth’s video struck a chord with TikTok and its ever-mysterious algorithm. It took off, racking up 5.1 million views, 134.8K saves, and over 4,000 comments (and counting!). We've shared it on our TikTok channel, just go to the reposts tab to view.

Here’s just a taste of the comments:

“Her presence is captivating.”

“Just listening to her feels like a treat.”

“I wanna be her.”

“This woman could teach me anything.”

“She’s my new Bob Ross.”

“I learned so much in such a short time.”

The comments confirmed what we’ve known for years: Kim is an unparalleled teacher with a rare ability to break down complex ideas into something approachable and inspiring.

This is one of the many reasons why Kim & Yvonne are creating the Artful Awareness Academy, a fusion of their combined 50 years of experience. With Sculpting the Sculpture and Sculpting the Sculptor, they’re putting their skills into one transformative place for artists and sculptors worldwide.

For Kim, this viral moment was a boost of joy and validation. Pal Tiya International has always been her proudest achievement and legacy, and seeing so many new people join the waitlist for the online course? It made her smile from ear to ear. 😊

But what did we learn from this? Here are our 5 takeaways:

You can’t control what goes viral. Algorithms are unpredictable, and sometimes, the right moment just happens.

Be ready for the spotlight. We’ve worked tirelessly for over a decade to create not just a product but a methodology. Building a foundation meant we were ready when people discovered us. This included countless hours of hard work, sweat and hot glue gun burns and yes, tears.

Believe in what you’re building. The strength and discipline to keep going comes from truly believing in your work and its potential to create change.

Passion is magnetic. When you’re genuinely passionate about what you do, it shines through and connects with people.

Keep doing the work. As Kim loves to say, quoting a Buddhist proverb:

“Before enlightenment, chop wood, carry water. After enlightenment, chop wood, carry water.”

And that’s exactly what we’ll keep doing: serving, growing, and sharing. We’re here for the long haul, and we’re so grateful to have you on this journey with us.

[threeacttragedy]

Entry 11: The One About the Heart of the Ocean

My father is a big history buff. He fancies himself a bit of an expert about the U.S. Civil War, U.S. Presidents, and World War II. In fact, he’s gifted me with the Useless Knowledge of which four U.S. Presidents were assassinated while in office (Lincoln, Garfield, McKinley, and Kennedy – you’re welcome for that little addition to your own Library of Useless Knowledge).

But, more importantly, my dad has instilled in me the importance of a timeline. The idea that, if you’re collecting information, it’s vital to keep it in chronological order, that way you can look at it, (try to) understand it, and theorize about what happened before and after an event. If the facts are out of order, the conclusion you reach may be in error.

My father and I also like to solve True Crime together. When he visits, we spend hours on the porch studying some random, usually cold, true crime event. We timeline the shit out of it, connect the puzzle pieces together, and exclaim in the end, “We’ve solved it!” I suppose that is part of what keeps me interested in Lukola – not that there is anything criminal in Lukola, except perhaps the “Single White Female” that pops up behind Nicola from time to time – I just enjoy the game of trying to put the pieces together.

Lukola has become a rather intriguing puzzle, don’t you think? It’s definitely one to which I do not have all the pieces. I do, however, enjoy collecting the information and chronologizing it, and now I find it enjoyable to scribble my thoughts out on Tumblr.

So, how did I get here?

Well, it started with boredom and ended with a timeline.

My first entry to the timeline?

July 20, 2024.

What happened on that date?

Well, nothing spectacular really, except JVN posted –

HOLD UP!

HOLD THE FUCK UP!!

OH SHIT!!

YES!

YES, you guessed it! After blowing JVN off for at least three, maybe four, posts in a row, I’m finally getting around to dedicating an entire entry to Their Royal Highness.

JVN is such a fascinating creature. I mean, you get beautiful, witty, and intelligent wrapped into one human being. Oh, and they are kind of a catty bitch, too, and who doesn’t love one of those? That’s why they're the Heart of the Ocean on the USS Lukola; they just give off this very rare blue diamond vibe. Well, that, and because something they did marks the focal point – the heart – from which the rest of my timeline branches.

*I will cut in here to note that I am referring to JVN as they/their in this entry as their Instagram bio indicates they accept “they/he/she.”

Okay, back to July 20.

On that date, JVN posted to TikTok their version of the Charli xcx “Apple” dance. You know that annoying TikTok trend that took over our summer? Yeah, that’s the one – the same one Antonia tried doing – she just couldn’t pull off the JVN version of it. Dear girl couldn’t come close to matching JVN’s “enthusiasm,” and JVN’s version was only made more enjoyable in that they were seemingly mocking Antonia!

But, all’s fair in love and war, right?

JVN’s bestie, Nicola, had already spent the entire summer subtlety combating Antonia over social media. The vibe in the fandom was that Antonia was always trying to one-up Nicola, with Nicola always coming out the victor. I’m sorry, Antonia, you just can’t beat some perfectly timed BTS drops.

So, why did JVN’s TikTok post intrigue me? It wasn’t because it was that amusing. It was because they’d done something I hadn’t noticed before – they’d taunted Antonia on a public forum.

Curious, that.

Now, I’m not saying it was the first time JVN mocked Antonia, but July 20 was the first time I noticed it. That date is the heart of my timeline, but it does not have to be the heart of yours. We can all start at different times but still reach the same conclusions, so long as we keep the information in order.

You would think one wouldn’t mess with the “girl friend” of your best friend’s “best friend,” at least not publicly. But, here was JVN shamelessly mocking Antonia on TikTok. And, just so we’re clear, the public opinion of what JVN was doing with this TikTok is available to view in the comments of their TikTok post. It wasn’t just me that came to this conclusion – and JVN has left these comments up for four months at this point.

JVN’s “Apple” dance was only made more interesting the following day – July 21 – when they included it in their Sunday Dump post on Instagram.

And, Nicola liked it.

Hmm, things were becoming curiouser and curiouser.

Let’s not even pretend that Nicola isn’t street savvy and didn’t understand the context of that video. And, let’s definitely not underestimate the length of her claws.

To be honest, I hadn’t paid too much attention to Lukola since mid-June. It was an “it is what it is” thing for me. Even though I believed the relationship between Luke and Nicola was complicated (see my first blog for that story), Luke had also apparently disappeared into the summertime sun with his friend group, which included Antonia.

Something about JVN openly making fun of Antonia, and Nicola, at the very least acknowledging it with an Instagram like, made me realize something in Luke’s situation must be shifting.

What have I said about little changes? That deviations in modus operandi are what make people start giving the side-eye to a situation.

And, side-eye I did!

I started paying attention to JVN and, on July 25, they posted a series of photos on TikTok and Instagram showcasing “What I would wear if you invited me to your…” We will fast-forward through all the slides until we get to the last one, which read, “…just got dumped and going to take 8 shots dinner at Lupe’s in SoHo.” Was it possible that JVN was hinting at a dumpster fire at the Soho Farmhouse?

If you don’t know what the Soho Farmhouse is, it’s the place where Luke and his friend group, including Antonia, frequented, probably on Luke’s dime (*insert wicked laugh – oh, and a disclaimer that this is all speculation).

Funny that Nicola liked this post on Instagram, too, and it wasn’t even buried in a Sunday Dump.

At this point, JVN had really sparked my damn interest. Like, dear one, what are you hinting at?

On July 29, Deux Moi creeped out from under its rock and reminded the fandom to hate Luke by rehashing Papsmear. Thank you, we needed that. I mean, half of us almost forgot how much we hated him! That’s me being a sarcastic tart, by the way. If we were to fast-forward to today, I’d argue that Luke was the most darling thing to come out of Bridgerton.

Any ways, again, thank you, Deux Moi, for those suspiciously timed Papsmear pictures because they aligned perfectly with the pap pictures People dropped the following day – July 30.

Yep, I am talking about those strangely awkward pap pictures of Luke hanging out in the murky waters of Sorrento with Antonia. Oh, and let’s not forget the video footage of that encounter, which I am sure still upsets and confuses people to this day. In fact, I know it does because, as I was researching this, I had a couple of people get annoyed after I asked them to view it. Funny thing is, that shit never bothered me (I didn’t say that it didn’t later confuse me!). The first time I saw them, I was like, “Luke is not into that girl at all,” and my next thought was, “I wonder how old these pictures are because I would have sworn JVN was hinting at something.”

Now, this story wouldn’t be complete if I didn’t address the rumor portion of it.

First rumor? That Antonia set up the entire Italy pap photo-op because she seemingly knew where to find the cameraman. So, let’s discuss that video everyone seems to hate to acknowledge exists. In the video, you can see Antonia maybe looking in the direction of the cameraman. She then leans into Luke, either to whisper something to him or to reach for something behind him. In my opinion – and this is strictly my opinion – it looks like she’s pretending to reach for something over his shoulder. Still shots of this interaction are the photos People published, presumably because Luke and Antonia looked like they were cheek to cheek.

Okay, notice I said, “first rumor,” because, yeah, there’s a second rumor, too! But, it fits snuggly into that first rumor. Almost immediately – because that’s how fast the Lukola Sleuths get to work around here – rumors began to circulate that Antonia was following on Instagram the photographer that took the Italy pap pictures. In fact, several people I’ve spoken to swear that they witnessed during a TikTok Live a host prove that Antonia was following this photographer. That’s a bit suspicious, isn’t it? Yeah, it fucking is.

Let’s keep moving.

That same day, we had that video drop of Luke watching fireworks, at night, with sunglasses. Speaking of sunglasses, I guess Luke found those motherfuckers because he sure as shit didn’t have them while floating around in that dirty ass water. Any ways, at the end of the video, Rory appears behind Luke, looking in the direction of the camera and smiling like a condescending, sneaky little shit. Now, who was the cameraman? Well, a possible suspect would be Antonia since she was not seen in the video. Go figure.

Alright, so that day finally ended and on July 31, JVN posted to TikTok a cutesy video of themself at the market titled, “When you catch someone trying to sneak a pic but you were born for these moments.” They prance around the market and randomly look at the cameraman (Mark) with a smile and a pose. The caption reads, “I welcome sneaky pics but I can’t guarantee I won’t sneak some back or put on a show for you.”

WAIT A MINUTE!

Did JVN just inexplicably confirm Luke was getting papped by his own friends?

Yeah, I kind of think JVN did.

And, Nicola liked this one as well when JVN posted it to Instagram on August 8.

Didn’t I tell you JVN was a fascinating creature? And, to be honest, JVN only gets better as this Lukola ship continues on its voyage.

Oh, strangely enough, a few days after the Italy pap crap, Luke returned to London alone. The friend group became unsettlingly silent, and Nicola started to get really, really loud – Chaos Week was incoming! And, so were some more JVN crumbs (and nicely timed clap backs).

[luveline]

If you are still writing for bombshell x Spencer could you write something from early seasons when he had feelings for JJ 👉🏻👈🏻

Hotch told you once that he was tempted to put an automatic lock on the office doors, so that he can lock them when he sees you coming during your working hours. 

He has yet to follow through. You slip in through the doors and take a deep breath. It smells like coffee, printer paper, all the same stuff as your own office, but your office doesn’t have Aaron Hotchner, Derek Morgan, or Spencer Reid. 

“Neither does this one, apparently,” you mumble to yourself, casting your gaze around the room to no avail. The boys aren’t here. 

Emily’s sitting at her desk. She’s new, you’re jealous of her job, but she’s gorgeous. You won’t mind sitting at Spencer’s desk until they get back. “Hello,” you drawl, setting down in Spencer’s chair comfortably. 

Emily’s mildly startled. “Hey?”

Spencer’s desk is an explosion. You debate cleaning up for him. What if you put something in the wrong place? It’ll be more annoying than helpful. “How are things?” you ask, pushing Spencer’s chair back, and kicking a leg over your knee, high heel bobbing. 

“What?” 

You smile at her. Flirting, just a little, but your concern is real. “How are things going, Prentiss? With you?” 

“They’re good. Yeah. I just moved into my new place.” 

Bless her for not knowing what to do with you. She doesn’t have practice like the rest. “A new place? Where to?” 

She relaxes while you talk. Her apartment overlooking Kingman, her cat’s annoyance at the new smells and the long case time away. “Spencer says that cats aren’t capable of holding grudges, but Sergei can.” 

“He’s cute, isn’t he? He knows a fun fact for everything.” 

Emily sits up. You can see the excitement of a secret in her dark eyes. “He’s adorable. His little crush on JJ is so sweet, I’ve tried to give him some advice but he’s totally stuck on her.” You falter. And Emily, profiler in training, she catches it. Her lips part, startled. “You’re not–”

“I had no idea Spencer had a little crush,” you breathe, sitting up with a smile. “For how long? What about JJ, is she interested in him?” You hug your hands together. “You know, I think they’d make a cute couple.”

“Well, I heard they went to a football game together, but I don’t know when. Before I got here, at least.” 

What? “That’s fun.”

“I don’t think it’s serious.”

You tip your head back and the heavens have opened, Derek Morgan’s making his way toward you with a grin and a hand reaching for you. “Sweetheart, where have you been?” he asks. “It’s been weeks, I was starting to miss you.” 

You texted him a few days ago about a property nearby for rent, and you had coffee the day after to hear his advice on the area, so he’s just making stuff up. “Hi, Derek.” 

You get up and let him hug you. You deserve it. You’re beautiful and fun and smart, and you deserve a handsome man rubbing your arm and telling you he missed you. “How much?” you ask warmly. 

“Like a hole in the head.” 

Hotch is behind him. And there, the surprise item of the afternoon, Spencer Cheating Reid. 

“Hi, Hotch,” you say. 

“I heard something about you I’d rather not repeat,” he says. 

“Hotch, the details were wildly exaggerated, and I was less at fault than you might think.”

“I thought it was entirely your fault.” He shakes his head. “You’re shooting yourself in the foot, doing things like that.” 

“Why, what did you do?” Spencer asks. 

You falter again. Everyone sees your insecurity: Hotch’s brow furrows deeper than it had been, Morgan pauses, and Spencer, to your panic, holds your eye as the emotion passes. “It’s not worth talking about,” you say, shrugging. 

“Try not to do it again,” Hotch says. “Morgan, with me.” 

“Uh, Hotch?” Emily speaks up. 

“You too, Prentiss.” 

He leads a procession up to his office. Morgan throws you a look like he wants to talk to you, but you’ve plastered unaffectedness over the wound again. Why does the idea of JJ and Spencer going on a date upset you? He’s a sweet guy, she’s a nice girl. Is it because you didn’t know? 

“You really haven’t been here in weeks,” Spencer says. 

“Missed me?” 

He holds the strap of his bag. “Yeah, I did.” 

What use does he have missing you? “I heard something interesting about you, Spencer.” 

“You did?”

He looks shy, pale, and worried. You forget sometimes how he’s not just your favourite dork, he’s a friend. And he doesn’t seem to have very many of them. 

Oh, you think, jealousy, you heartless monster. 

“The rumour mill says you aren’t sleeping enough,” you say gently. 

“I sleep fine.”

You put one kitten heel in front of the other and stay, squinting at him with a teasing suspicion. “That’s not what my informants have been telling me. You look tired, honey. You aren’t sleeping, or Hotch won’t let you?” 

“Both.” 

He does that playful smiley thing that makes you wanna scrunch his hair in your hands, like he knows he’s made a good joke. 

“Your case in Cincinnati sounded tough.” 

“Wait,” he says. 

“What?” 

“Are you okay?” 

“Usually. Why?” 

“Are you okay right now?” 

“I’m fine.” You purse your lips. “Why wouldn’t I be?” 

“Just– you– I don’t know, you didn’t seem like yourself. I didn’t mean to upset you, asking about that stuff. It’s none of my business, sorry.” 

“How are you feeling about physical touch today?” you ask. 

He seems to regard you with distrust, for a few seconds, like he’s worried you’re messing with him. “I’m okay with it,” he says eventually. 

You step into his space and touch his cheek gently, fingertip tapping into a beauty mark you often remember only when he’s in your reach. “You didn’t say anything wrong. I’m sorry I made you think that.” You drop your hand. “Just having a weird day.” 

“Me too.” 

Spencer puts his bag under his desk and mentions a video he found on profiling you might like by one of the old Unit Chief’s, SSA David Rossi. You steal Derek’s chair and sit knee to knee with him to watch it, Spencer’s cheeks turning dark with blush in the screen’s reflection. 

Can JJ make him blush like that? 

—

bombshell fics

[mintmatcha]

I so understand this would be so far off, but I’m imagining reader’s son being 13 and a couple months old, he’s cordial with Shinsou, for his mum, but he’s trying to come to terms with why his mum didn’t stay with his dad. Until monoma doesn’t show up for something and maybe one of his friends is like ‘hey, I’m really sorry your dad is always doing that. It must really suck’

‘My dad always shows up usually, just later. He’s busy.’ And the look of pity from his friend and it just CLICKS

Has to call his mum to pick him up and shinsou picks him up because maybe it’s late at night, and shinsou has always respected that he shouldn’t talk shit about monoma in front of your son, but when your son starts asking about things, about the lies and twisted truths monoma has told, shinsou won’t lie to him. Just gives him yes and no answers.

Monoma doesn’t understand why all of a sudden his son isn’t responding to his messages or answering his phone calls, and there’s no way he’s calling you to reveal to you that he’s no longer the golden father figure in your son’s eyes

I LOVE THIS IDEA AAA

I think, leading up to that, the more your son is angry at monoma, the more he's disrespectful of you. it's displaced, but he just can't bring himself to think that his dad is the problem.

the only time shinso has ever REALLY yelled at him was after school one day. monoma was supposed to come for his weekend, but it's shinso standing at the curb waiting for him.

"Whoa, that's your dad?" a friend asks. oh, he had been bragging all day that his pro hero dad was coming to take him on vacation and now he's face to face with the realization that he's not going anywhere.

"He is not my dad." There's so much angst and anger building up in his gut. you must have done something to piss his real dad off- it's always your fault when he doesn't arrive- "he's just some guy my mom whores around with."

Shinso's jaw flexes so tightly that he can see it from all the way from across the street. He uses his whole name, biting out every syllable with a barely restrained anger. your son trudges across the street with his pack dragging on the ground.

"Say that again." It's been years since he's thought Shinso was scary, but the cold grind of his voice makes him freeze. "Say it right here, to my face."

They both know he can't. He doesn't have the guts. Shinso bends over just a bit, bringing himself face to face.

"You do not have to respect me. You don't even have to like me." Shinso's voice breaks with the sheer volume he's using. your son looks back at his friends, who look equally horrified. "But you will not talk about your mother that way."

The man jabs a finger towards the school bag.

"And pick up your fucking bag." He's never cursed at your son before. "Your mom worked extra shifts to pay for that."

He had begged for this bag, the full leather one. it was expensive. too expensive to ask you for. It came as a holiday present with no name, so he had always assumed his dad was the one who bought it. Monoma is the one with money-- you're just a waitress. The scuffed bottom suddenly feels embarrassing.

Shinso hasn't stopped his ranting. "All she has ever done is loved you. Your whole life! All she's ever done! And I will not let you treat her the way your father treats her, got it?"

Your son doesn't reply.

"I said- did you fucking get that?"

His real dad never yells. No, he just laughs when he says things like that. Your son sniffs and slugs his bag over his shoulder. "Yeah. Whatever."

"And if you ever say that to your mother's face-" he can't finish the sentence. "Get walking."

[hoovesandfloorpaws]

"That said, both Styles and his therapist have questioned why he cares quite so much about being likeable. This is one of the things he thought about a lot in his big pandemic reflection. In part, it's a choice, he explained. He recalled moving to London after The X Factor and hearing tales of petulant celebrities screaming because someone got their coffee order wrong and deciding to never be that guy, to never give someone a petty reason to bad-mouth him. But more recently he's come to worry that the drive for approval came from a more complex place, a place of caution, fear, control." "Styles said he often spent interviews terrified about saying the wrong thing until he stopped to question what abhorrent belief or bizarre opinion he was scared he'd accidentally reveal and realized he couldn't think of anything."

"And he thought about the cleanliness clauses in the contracts he used to sign, which would dictate that they would be null and void if he did anything supposedly unsavoury, and about how terrified that used to make him. And about when he signed his solo contract and learned that the ability to make music would not be affected by personal transgressions, he burst into tears, a reaction he still seemed shocked by, retelling it to me now, years later. "I felt free," he explained."

"When Styles began therapy about five years ago [so in 2017], he was reluctant initially, feeling it was a music industry cliché. "I thought it meant that you were broken," he said. "I wanted to be the one who could say I didn't need it." He returned to the home theme that has underpinned our conversation, explaining that therapy has allowed him to "open up rooms in himself" that he didn't know existed, allowed him to feel things more honestly, where before he had tended to"emotionally coast.""

"Recently Styles began to work through issues related to intimacy, dating, love. "For a long time, it felt like the only thing that was mine was my sex life. I felt so ashamed about it, ashamed at the idea of people even knowing that I was having sex, let alone who with," he said."

"You look back, especially now there's all the documentaries, like the Britney documentary, and you watch how people were abused in that way, by that system, especially women. You recall articles from not even five years ago, and you're like, I can't even believe that was written."

He has been thinking a lot recently about autonomy, ownership, privacy. About what he should be able to keep to himself, what he should be able to simply communicate through his music without follow-up questions or prying. Around the time of Fine Line, he faced scrutiny around his sexuality. People became incredulous that he wore dresses, waved Pride flags, and yet hadn't clarified with precision, publicly to a journalist or on social media, the specifics of who he'd slept with, how he defined. This expectation is, to him, bizarre, "outdated." "I've been really open with it with my friends, but that's my personal experience; it's mine," he said.

Despite the acceptance that some things could, should, have been different, he still feels lucky every day, he said, lucky to make music, lucky to do what he loves.

"You can't win music. It's not like Formula One," he said. "I was like, in my lifetime, there will be 10 more people who burst onto the scene in that way, and I'm only going to get further away from being the young thing. So, get comfortable with finding something else that makes you happy. I just found that so liberating."

"I just want to make stuff that is right, that is fun, in terms of the process, that I can be proud of for a long time, that my friends can be proud of, that my family can be proud of, that my kids will be proud of one day," he said.

““In lockdown, I started processing a lot of stuff that happened when I was in the band,” he said. He thought about the way he was encouraged to give so much of himself away, “to get people to engage with you, to like you.” He thought about the fact that no baby photos exist of him that aren’t on the internet (you give a bunch to an X Factor producer doing a piece on your backstory without much thought, and suddenly your childhood is online). He thought about the journalists asking questions, when he was still a teenager, about how many people he’d slept with and how, rather than telling them to go away, he would worry about how he could be coy without them leaving the room annoyed. “Why do I feel like I’m the one who has done something wrong?” he said to me.”

— Harry for Better Homes and Gardens Magazine

[demilypyro]

My father chases ghosts.

In a moment of uncharacteristic boldness, I once questioned my father on why he treated me with such cold detachment. Why his advice only ever seemed to come in the form of lecturing, and why he never hugged me, or even said he was proud of me. His words in that moment caused the small amount of respect I had for him to shake. He told me that he saw it as the mother's role to love a child, and that it was the father's role to keep the child on the straight and narrow. After some contemplation, I decided in that moment that I disliked him, not just as a parent, but as a person.

My father doesn't have a father. He was the product of an out-of-wedlock pregnancy between an interracial couple in the 60s... My grandmother was never willing to speak about what happened to my grandfather. I can only imagine he didn't stick around long, since my father never knew him, and grew up with only his mother. And it's always been clear to me that this bothered him. The man idolizes masculinity. Maybe desperate for a father figure, he found role models in his grandfather, whose portrait still hangs in his house and which he treats with great care, and his stepfather, whose surname he took (discarding his mother's last name) and passed on to me. Supposedly, his stepfather left his mother in a matter of years, so why my father idolizes him so, I don't understand. I've never met the man.

Perhaps similarly, my father left his mother's care the second he turned 18. Having lived with my grandmother for some years when I was in college, I can honestly understand why. She is prone to smothering the people she loves. In light of that experience, it maybe becomes easier to understand why my father would prefer a more distant form of parenting. Still, I don't agree with his philosophy on gender roles.

Some years after I transitioned, I had a conversation with my father that stuck with me. He said that he actually saw himself as rather unmasculine, a possibility that had never once occurred to me. With that in mind, I suppose he is somewhat short, and not especially muscular. He told me he had always felt insecure about it. But, unlike me, he had never once considered abandoning the pursuit of masculinity entirely. Rather, in his own words, he felt he needed to chase it even harder. To live up to the image he'd set for himself. The ghost of masculinity.

A lot became clear to me in that moment. My father is obsessed with chasing ghosts of how he thinks things Should Be. My mother once told me how he had this "plan" for where he wanted to be in life at each age. He wanted to live on his own by 20. He wanted to be married by 30. He wanted children by 40. When he found out my mother was pregnant, he married her as fast as he could. My mother didn't really care, but he said they HAD to be married before the baby was born. Things had to go in the right order. According to him, that was just how things Should Be.

He was chasing the ghost of the perfect nuclear family that was denied him.

They divorced when I was eight.

In light of all this, it becomes very clear why he acted the way he did when I was younger. I wasn't how his child Should Be. No matter how many things I was diagnosed with, he never bothered looking into what neurodivergency was, or how to deal with it, and simply held me to the standards of a neurotypical child. My mother tells me that when I was six, he yelled at me in a store for wanting to try on a dress. His child being autistic was something to be ignored until it went away. His child being transgender? Forget it.

In recent years, I think my father has started giving up on me. In a good way. Seeing me become happier as my transition progresses seems to have finally convinced him that he doesn't understand what's best for me, at least somewhat. I speak to him maybe once a month. But I often mourn the idea of a father I could've been closer to. A father with whom I could have had a relationship of love, and support. A father I never had.

Maybe I'm chasing a ghost too.

[goldfades]

TIGHTLING ─── LUKE HUGHES

request: "luke hughes + reader doing tiktok couple trends??"

here is the trend i was doing!

The phone props precariously against a stack of books on the coffee table, its tiny lens trained on you and Luke as he lounges on the couch beside you. His long legs are sprawled out, a stark contrast to your cross-legged position, and he looks completely at ease, a faded Michigan sweatshirt hanging loosely on his broad frame.

It was your idea—of course it was—to rope him into yet another TikTok trend. And honestly, it didn’t take much convincing. Luke, for all his teasing about how “obsessed” you are with the app, has never been one to back down from your antics. You swear he secretly loves these little moments where the two of you can just be goofy together.

“Okay, so here’s the deal,” you start, holding your phone up to demonstrate the angle and framing, even though he’s barely paying attention. His eyes flick lazily from your face to the camera. “I’m gonna ask you a bunch of questions, and they’re things only girls would know—like, makeup stuff, skincare stuff. You just have to guess what they mean.”

Luke blinks at you, visibly unimpressed. “That’s it? I just guess?”

“Yes.” You grin, wide and mischievous, and he narrows his eyes at you suspiciously.

“Why do I feel like this is just a setup to make me look stupid?”

“It's not, I promise.” You say, patting his knee in mock reassurance.

He scoffs, rolling his eyes, but the corners of his mouth tug upward into the faintest smile. You’ve won, and he knows it. “Fine. But you owe me for this.”

“Uh-huh,” you deadpan, grabbing the remote and shoving it out of the frame. “And what exactly do I owe you for a few minutes of your time?”

He tilts his head, pretending to think. “I don’t know. Maybe you stop stealing my clothes every time you come over?”

“That’s a deal I’ll never make,” you quip, setting the phone back on its makeshift tripod. “Okay, ready?”

Luke leans forward slightly, brushing his hair out of his face as he flashes you a lopsided grin. “Hit me with it.”

And just like that, you hit record.

You settle back into the couch, phone recording, and glance at Luke, who’s already sitting straighter, his focus zeroed in like this is some kind of high-stakes playoff. The intensity is so out of place that it’s almost impossible not to laugh, but you manage to keep a straight face. Barely.

“Alright,” you say, scrolling through your mental list of girl-specific words. “First question: What does waterline mean?”

Luke blinks. “Waterline?” His brows furrow, and he leans forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees like he’s trying to think through an SAT question. “Like... the edge of a body of water? Or where water stops?”

You gasp dramatically, clapping your hands together. “Oh my God, yes! That’s exactly it. How did you know?”

His face lights up, the corners of his mouth quirking into a self-satisfied grin. “Seriously? I mean, it makes sense, right?”

“Totally,” you nod fervently, resisting the urge to crack up. “You’re so smart.”

He smirks, leaning back against the couch. “Told you. What’s next?”

You bite your lip, stifling a laugh, and move on. “Okay, next question. What’s a cuticle pusher?”

Luke’s face scrunches up, his confusion written all over it. “A... what?”

“Cuticle pusher,” you repeat innocently, as though this is a perfectly normal thing for him to know.

He hesitates, narrowing his eyes at you. “Uh... is it like... something you use to push dirt out from under your nails?”

You gasp again, clutching your chest like you’re shocked by his brilliance. “Yes! Oh my God, Luke, how do you know these things?”

He lets out a laugh, visibly proud of himself. “I don’t know! It just made sense!”

“Wow,” you say, shaking your head like you’re genuinely impressed. “You’re two for two.”

“Duh,” he quips, leaning forward again, his confidence swelling. “Keep going. I’m on a roll.”

You suppress another laugh and press on. “Okay, what about... baking?”

“Baking?” he repeats, frowning. “Like... cooking?”

You shake your head quickly. “Not that kind of baking. It’s a makeup thing.”

He sits back, tapping his fingers against his leg as he thinks. “Makeup... baking... Does it have something to do with heat? Like, you heat the makeup onto your face or something?”

It takes every ounce of willpower not to break character. “Oh my God, yes! Exactly! You bake it onto your face to, like, set it. You’re literally on fire, Luke. I can’t believe this.”

He laughs again, a full, genuine laugh this time, his cheeks a little pink. “I’m just that good.”

“You really are,” you say with mock awe. “Okay, okay, one more for now. What’s a winged liner?”

Luke doesn’t even pause to think this time. “Easy. It’s eyeliner, but it’s, like... shaped like wings.”

You clap your hands together, nodding enthusiastically. “Yes! Oh my God, Luke! You’re literally unstoppable!”

“I know, right?” He beams, clearly riding the high of getting “everything” right. “See? I told you I’d win.”

You bite back your laughter, nodding along like you’re his number-one fan. “You’re seriously the best at this. I’ve never seen anyone crush these questions like you.”

Luke leans back, folding his arms across his chest, looking far too pleased with himself. “Alright, what’s the next round? I’m ready.”

You can’t hold it in anymore and burst into laughter, but he just looks at you, confused but still grinning. “What? Why are you laughing? I’m killing it!”

And the best part? He truly believes it.

You shake your head, waving your hand as if to dismiss your laughter. “Nothing, nothing! You’re just—you’re killing it, Luke. Like, I think you might know more about this stuff than I do.”

He grins, sitting up straighter. “I mean, you said it was trivia. I’m just good at picking stuff up.”

“Right, right,” you say, wiping an imaginary tear from your eye as you compose yourself. “Okay, next question. What’s... double cleansing?”

Luke pauses, his competitive streak kicking back in as he furrows his brow in concentration. “Double cleansing... like, washing your face twice? First to get the dirt off and then... to, I don’t know, make it extra clean?”

You gasp again, clutching his arm this time. “Yes! Oh my God, that’s exactly it. How do you keep doing this?”

He looks so smug now, like he just nailed a game-winning goal. “It just makes sense, you know? Two steps—one for the surface, one for deep cleaning. I’m basically an expert.”

You nod vigorously, stifling another laugh. “Seriously. Like, you should teach a class or something.”

“Maybe I will,” he says with a smirk. “Alright, next one. Hit me.”

You glance at your mental list again, biting your lip to keep from cracking up. “Alright. What’s a dupe?”

Luke tilts his head, confused but determined. “A dupe... like... a duplicate? Something that looks like something else?”

You slap your hand over your mouth, pretending to be floored. “Yes! Oh my God, Luke, you’re literally on fire. It’s like a cheaper version of something expensive. How are you so good at this?”

He’s grinning so wide now, his cheeks pink with pride. “I don’t know. I guess I just have a natural instinct for this stuff.”

“Clearly,” you say, barely holding it together. “Okay, okay, next one. What’s a beauty blender?”

“A beauty blender?” He pauses, his competitive edge shining through as he carefully thinks it over. “Uh... like... a machine that mixes stuff? Like makeup or foundation or something?”

You clasp your hands dramatically, your jaw dropping. “Yes! Oh my God, Luke, are you kidding me? How do you know this?”

He throws his hands up like it’s no big deal, even though he’s clearly eating up the praise. “What can I say? I’m just built different.”

You double over with laughter, but quickly try to disguise it as a cough when he narrows his eyes. “I’m serious! You’re like... a prodigy.”

“I know,” he says, fully leaning into the role now. “Alright, what’s next? Let’s keep going.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, wondering how far you can push this before he catches on. “Okay, this one’s tricky,” you warn, straightening up. “What’s... tightlining?”

He blinks at you, a little wary but still confident. “Tightlining? Uh... when you line something up really close together? Like... packing it in tight?”

You gasp again, throwing your head back. “Yes! Oh my God, Luke! It’s when you line your eyes super close to your lashes! You’re incredible!”

His grin is so wide now, he looks like a kid who just found out he’s getting a puppy for Christmas. “I mean, it’s just logical, right? Tightlining. Tight lines. Easy.”

“Easy for you,” you say, shaking your head in mock amazement. “You’re like a makeup genius.”

“I should probably put that on my résumé,” he jokes, leaning back and crossing his arms. “Luke Hughes: NHL defenseman, trivia champion, and makeup expert.”

You can’t help but laugh again, your chest aching from holding it in for so long. But he still doesn’t catch on—he’s far too busy basking in the glory of his “success.”

“Alright,” you say, wiping a pretend tear from your eye. “One last question, and this one’s a doozy. What’s a halo eye?”

Luke’s face scrunches up in confusion, but he’s clearly not backing down. “Halo eye... uh... is it like... when your eyes look shiny? Like they’re glowing or something?”

You clasp your chest, pretending to be in awe. “Yes! That’s exactly it! How did you know?”

He throws his hands in the air, grinning ear to ear. “I mean, it’s in the name. Halo. Glow. It’s not that hard.”

You’re practically wheezing at this point, barely able to hold yourself together. But Luke? He’s still riding that high, completely oblivious to the fact that he’s been getting it hilariously wrong the entire time.

── COMMENTS

melia 🤍 "halo eye… uh… when your eyes look shiny?" IM SCREAMING ♡ 18k

abby grace 🌸 the gasp after every answer has me CRYING 💀 ♡ 14.5k

lily 🦋 the fact that he’s dead serious makes this even better ♡ 6.3k

viv 🪩 “double cleansing… to make it extra clean?” i can’t breathe 😭 ♡ 292

nj devils enthusiast “baking… does it have something to do with heat?” AND YOU SAID YES 💀💀 ♡ 500

sarah rose ☁️ his face when you said he got it right 😭😭😭 pure joy ♡ 4.2k

ellie ✨ he’s never gonna trust you again when he finds out 😭 ♡ 1.8k

emma 🤍 “tightlining… tight lines… easy” LUKE WHAT ♡ 239

sophia 💕 he’s gonna tell people he’s a skincare guru after this 😭 ♡ 2k

madeline you could’ve asked him anything and he’d still be so proud of himself lmaoo ♡ 103

noah’s gf how is he so wrong yet so sure every time 💀 ♡ 89

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[hotshotsxyz]

living lies and compromise

(8b spec) (buddie) (879 words) spoilers for 8x08! set a few days after eddie returns from texas and i still managed to make it angsty :) i bet you'll never guess what band i stole the title from

The knock on Buck’s door isn’t entirely unexpected. He doesn’t know what to do with it, though, doesn’t know how to exist in this strange liminal space where Eddie’s back but everything is still different.

A few months ago, Eddie would’ve used his key and walked straight in. A few months ago, Buck would’ve welcomed him with open arms. As it stands, he hesitates. Just for a moment, but—

It’s been a long time since Buck was hesitant with Eddie. He hates it.

He opens the door, and the smile he greets Eddie with feels brittle and fake.

“Hey, man,” Buck says, trying trying trying to make it come out right. He hears it, though—it doesn’t sound the same.

“Hey,” Eddie replies. He hoists a six pack in the air, and if Buck squints he can almost pretend this is exactly what it used to be. That they’re what they used to be.

“Come—come in,” Buck invites. He can’t remember the last time either of them waited for permission like this.

Eddie swallows visibly and steps into the loft for the first time since—god, he’s not actually sure. Right after Halloween, maybe?

“Thanks,” Eddie says. He drops the beer on the counter but makes no move to grab one.

Silence stretches between them. It’s not uncomfortable, necessarily, but it’s also not the kind that falls when everything that needs to be said is out in the open and everything left can wait.

“I thought you’d be happy to see me,” Eddie says finally, achingly quiet.

Buck shakes his head. “I am, of course I’m happy to see you,” he says.

“Please don’t do that.” Eddie’s eyes are wide and sincere, and if Buck’s not careful—

“Eddie,” he says, pleading, “I am, you have no idea.”

“Then why…” He gestures vaguely at the space between them. Why the distance? Why the reticence? Why aren’t they falling together the way they always have?

Buck bites his lip and steps into Eddie’s space to grab a beer for himself. He retreats, but he doesn’t go far.

He pops the cap off and sighs. “You left,” he says simply.

Eddie stumbles back against the counter. “But I came back,” he says. “And I thought you understood.”

Buck offers him a sad little smile. “I did. I do. But—coming back wasn’t the plan.”

“Did you… not want me to?” Eddie asks, small and a tiny bit incredulous.

“No,” Buck says, watching as Eddie’s disbelief turns to hurt. “I didn’t want you to come back. I needed you to.”

A wounded noise escapes Eddie’s lips. “I did,” he says.

“What about next time?” Buck asks. He wishes he didn’t sound so raw and ragged, but it hardly matters when Eddie’s the one listening.

“What?” He breathes, punched out like a cough.

Buck looks over Eddie’s shoulder, out the window and into the vague glow of night in Los Angeles. He takes a swig of his beer.

“I need you, Eddie, I still—the whole time you were gone it felt like—like I was missing a limb. And I can’t—I can’t keep needing you like this, not if I don’t get to keep you,” Buck admits. “So I just… I have to figure out how to stop. But I can’t do that when you’re here.”

“Don’t,” Eddie says desperately. “Please don’t. I’m here, okay? I’m not going anywhere. You have me.”

“I’m not sure I know how to survive believing that again,” Buck replies.

Eddie takes a step forward, close enough now that Buck can feel his breath ghosting across his skin.

“Look at me?” he asks.

Buck’s never been able to deny him much of anything.

“I kept looking for you. I’d see something funny and I’d turn, because I wanted to see your reaction. The front door would open, and I kept thinking you were going to be the one to walk through it. Hell, every time I went to the grocery store I wanted to call you to make sure everything we needed was on the list.”

“Eddie,” Buck breathes.

His hand drifts toward Buck’s shoulder, just like it always seems to, but this time it doesn’t stop. Eddie reaches until his fingers are resting against Buck’s neck and his thumb is slowly sweeping across his jaw.

“You need me?” he asks.

Buck nods.

“Good,” Eddie says in a rush of air. “Because I need you too, okay? So please don’t stop, please don’t pull away. I’m sorry I didn’t ask you to come with me.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t ask you to stay.”

Eddie’s shoulders slump. He takes the last step forward and pulls Buck into a tight hug.

There’s this thing Buck’s been trying not to look at. It’s been growing in size, taking up more and more of his field of vision since the moment Eddie left for Texas. It’s been fuzzy and hard to discern, difficult to ignore but easy to avoid putting a name to. As he melts into Eddie’s arms, though, everything comes into sharp relief.

It’s need. It’s want. It’s love.

And the thing is, Buck knows how this goes. But what the hell? It’ll be a privilege, getting his heart broken by Eddie Diaz.

He clings a little tighter.