#-kid all too well (for the remainder of the show)

[ursomucholderandwiserandi]

5 days til the eras tour begins. no. 5 is always the most emotional/real/important song to the album era.

a lot of “swifties” are pick and choosing what they want on the setlist and ignoring some of the songs that were really important to each era.

I'm not able to go unfortunately but I would be delighted if Taylor just played the no. 5s and then finished with all too well [ the 2 hour long version ]

[mysecretlittlelibrary]

I Love You When You Don't Love Yourself

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: Self deprication??? People talking shit I dunno

Genre: fluff and maybe angst

Summary: Bucky let's the opinions of random people get in his head a little too much on a night out

***

You take one last look at your makeup in the mirror before deciding you're satisfied with the look.

"You almost ready to go doll?" Bucky asks, leaning against the doorframe.

"Perfect timing. Yeah, I just need to put my heels on." You say standing up and walking over to your shoes which you'd left by your closet. Bucky meets you by them and leans down to slip your heels onto your foot. Oh, how he treats you like a princess.

"You look amazing." He tells you as he stands back up, kissing your temple softly.

"Thank you, so do you." You say. Bucky's hand settles against your back as it always does when you're walking.

"Alright let's get on with this." Bucky says as you leave the tower.

"Do you think everyone's already there?"

"Steve definitely is, Nat probably isn't yet, Tony definitely isn't, Wanda and Vis I'd guess yes. Everyone else is up in the air but everyone's left here."

"Last to go-"

"We won't be the last to leave. Telling you now." He tells you.

"I know." You laugh. "Trust me I have no desire to stay the latest."

The Avengers team has been invited to a charity gala which normally nobody would even think about going to, but after the last several months, you definitely think the team could use the positive press so a number of you are going, to represent the team. It takes you and Bucky 20 minutes to get to the venue and Bucky groans when he sees the red carpet lined with photographers.

"No way there's a red carpet here." He rolls his eyes.

"Of course there is. These galas are a gold mine for PR brownie points." You say. "Just smile baby, if they ask us anything worth answering I can do the talking."

"Works for me." Bucky says leaning over the center console to kiss you quickly before getting out of the car. Bucky hands the keys to the valet as he walks around the front before opening your door. He holds out a hand to help you out and then shifts that hand to your lower back, leading you down the red carpet. You can hear a cluster of voices shouting both of your names behind the disorienting flashes but it's hard to make anything out specifically. That is until you catch one voice above the rest.

"Y/n! What's it like dating the Winter Soldier!?"

You can feel Bucky tense a bit beside you though he tries not to let it show on his face. You flash a bright smile at the sea of photographers and slip your hand behind you to quickly squeeze Bucky's.

"Oh well I wouldn't know, the Winter Soldier doesn't exist anymore." You say easily.

"Are you saying you don't think your boyfriend is dangerous!?" Another voice.

"Not any more than any other avenger. I honestly think that the most volatile of us is Tony! But- for some reason, nobody's worried about the guy who can fit rocket blasters into a briefcase- just the... guy who can punch really hard." You let out a half laugh to lighten the severity of your words but you know you've done what you were trying to do when Bucky pulls you closer subtly and the questions stop. "Ciao!" You add with a light wave. You and Bucky walk the remainder of the carpet, posing every so often until you make it inside.

"The guy who can punch really hard?" He quirks an eyebrow at you once you're inside.

"Well yeah. Don't get me wrong you're plenty dangerous- but we have a god that can summon lightening, a witch that can completely warp reality, a kid who has the strength to throw an entire airplane- and I mean Tony's just some guy comparatively however- that suit of his has military grade weapons and he could at one point carry in a briefcase, I feel like you are not the biggest threat to humanity even in this room."

"You make us all sound dangerous."

"You are. We are. Honestly, the world is just lucky Tony thinks that being a hero comes with more glory than being a villain, and the rest of us have decent moral compasses. The line between hero and villain is pretty thin and when you have abilities people don't understand you are always walking that line. They could turn us into fugitives tomorrow. That's why we do things like charity galas so that's less likely to happen."

"You know we are so lucky you're around because I don't think anyone else would care to protect us in this way." Bucky slings his arm across your shoulders, pulling you closer to him.

"True but I suppose that's the good thing about a team, everyone offers a different skill set." You shrug with a chuckle.

"You're so amazing." He says kissing your temple.

"Well I have to be, my boyfriend's pretty cool you know." You smile.

"Oh, is he?"

"Yeah, the coolest." You nod.

"He's a lucky man." Bucky chuckles. 

"Sure is. But I think I'm luckier."

I think he'd disagree."

"I'm sure. Let's go find our seats."

"I'll get us drinks first and find you at our table after." Bucky says removing his arm from your shoulder but kissing your hand before he lets you go.

"You sure?"

"I could track you down in a sea of thousands doll, go. I'll see you in a few." He says.

"Something fruity please." You tell him.

"I know what to do." He winks and walks off. You pivot towards the tables to search the name cards for your and Bucky's seats.

"Y/n, hi I'm Noah, I just wanted to say that I'm a huge fan of yours." The man, Noah, appeared pretty much out of nowhere.

"Hi Noah, thank you. Just- trying to do what's right." You smile. You'll admit you've not had many adults come up to you and say they're fans?? It's usually kids so you're not sure what's the best approach here.

"Oh you don't have to be so modest! You're a hero! You've earned every right to brag."

"I'm not really the bragging type is all." You chuckle.

"That's so honorable." He nods. You hum in response.

"I'm gonna go find my seat, but it was nice to meet you!"

"Oh did you come alone? Is someone waiting for you?" He asks.

"What?" You blink at him.

"Well just that you're usually always with the one with the arm- the soldier."

"Bucky." You say.

"Right him. I'm just surprised to see you without him." Noah shrugs.

"Oh, he's here. He went to get us drinks."

"Interesting. I'm surprised."

"By what? Like you said we're always together." You shrug.

"Yeah, right, I know I guess I just thought by now you'd wake up."

"Excuse you?" You scoff.

"Oh come on darling, you and I both know you can do way better than that killer you're with now." He smirks placing a hand on your arm.

"If you want to keep that hand I suggest you keep it to yourself because if you touch me again you won't have to worry about 'that killer I'm with' I'll end you myself." You smile back at him.

"Fiesty."

"Yes, I tend to be when you insult my loved ones. Go figure. I'm going to go find my seat now before you dig yourself a hole too deep to climb out of, enjoy your evening." You say before walking away. Perhaps you should've mitigated that without threatening him, if it reflects badly on the team you could be undoing the very thing you came here for and that's usually Tony's area of expertise, oh there's your name but I mean that guy totally had it coming he was being an absolute jerk. How dare he say-

"Found ya." Bucky kisses your cheek as he sits beside you, cutting your train of thought.

"Hey." You smile giving him a peck on the lips. "What'd you get me?"

"I forget the name but it's a vodka cran with peach and lime basically, something from their specialty menu. I thought you'd like it." He shrugs.

"I'm sure it's lovely, thank you." You tell him taking a sip. It is pretty good. "What'd you get yourself?"

"Just a whiskey." He says. "Anything fun happen while I was away?"

"Nope, I ran into some guy before I found our seats but, that's an interaction barely worth mentioning." You roll your eyes.

"Uh oh, what'd he do?"

"Doesn't matter." You say with a kiss. "Have you seen anyone else yet? It looks like none of us are at the same tables." You point out.

"I saw Tony and Pepper's place cards but they're not sitting if they're already here."

"Oh, what table are they at?" You ask.

"It's over there, and don't worry I already told the bartender that Tony is only allowed one drink." Bucky says making you giggle.

"Well, that's a relief. Let's hope he didn't prepare for that restriction." You hum.

"I think Pepper keeps him on a pretty tight leash so it shouldn't be a problem. I just figured you'd rather be safe than sorry."

"When it comes to Tony's alcohol consumption absolutely." You nod.

"Oh my god is that the winter soldier?" You hear a voice whisper next to you.

"I can't believe they let him in here." Another hushed voice responds, making your jaw clench.

"Well I'm not about to sit next to him." Voice one scoffs.

"I'm sure we can get someone to switch with us it's fine. Come on." Voice two says and the two scuttle off.

"Fucking idiots." You roll your eyes. Bucky clears his throat and takes a sip of his whiskey.

"Oh look there's Vis." Bucky points out the red synthezoid at a table a few rows away from you.

"Okay so we're here, Pepper and Tony should be, Vision and Wanda are there, isn't Steve coming? I wonder where he'll be sitting." You hum.

"I bet he's already in his seat. Look for a bunch of giggling women hovering at a table and we'll probably find him at the center."

"I wonder why they sat us all apart."

"I imagine to promote mingling. All the Avengers at one table would be rather intimidating for the rest of the gala I think. No one would approach us." He shrugs.

"Oh maybe." You hum. You pick up the program sitting on the table to get an idea of how the evening is meant to play out. They'll start with an opening address, then serve dinner, then do the auction items, and the rest of the night will be dancing and mingling. You and Bucky entertain each other at the table until someone begins the night's todos with the opening address. The speech is about five minutes long, thanking guests and talking about the importance of the cause. Dinner orders from the preselected menu are taken quickly and food is brought out within 15 minutes.

"See I told you it was him." You hear a hushed conversation, not at your table but close. Bucky's hand hovers over the fork that he had been reaching for.

"My goodness you were right. That's scary."

"And to think he has a girlfriend walking around like that." That's the line. Bucky stands from your table abruptly and storms off. You hurriedly gather your purse to follow after him but you stop at the table you'd heard the voices coming from.

"If you guys are so bored with your lives that you have nothing better to do than gossip the least you could do is keep your pathetic opinions to yourself." You scoff before walking off to track down your boyfriend.

"Bucky wait." You call when you catch up to him just outside the venue.

"I want to leave." He says.

"It's barely been an hour-"

"And in that time there have been four separate instances of people talking about me like some zoo animal who can't fucking hear them."

"Four?"

"I heard that guy telling you that you can do so much better than the 'killer you're with now', so yeah. Four."

"We'll leave." You nod. Bucky hands his ticket to the valet and it takes almost no time at all for them to bring your car around to the front.

Your drive home is silent, though you rest a comforting hand on Bucky's thigh as he drives. Back in your room at the tower is where the quiet is finally broken.

"I'm sorry." Bucky frowns.

"What on earth for?" You shake your head at him

"I totally ruined the evening. I know this was- important to you that we go." He sighs.

"Don't be ridiculous. There are enough Avengers there to represent the whole team Bucky we didn't have to go, we didn't have to stay. Plus I never want you to be somewhere you don't feel comfortable. The gala is not nearly as important to me as your feelings." You tell him.

"Everything would be so much easier if it wasn't so-"

"Bucky don't. That's a dangerous path to start down. There is nothing wrong with you."

"Stop, y/n. Stop pretending that you don't hate it. If I could still have my normal arm I-"

"Well you don't." You snap, cutting him off.

"What?" He blinks at you.

"You don't have your 'normal arm' Buck, and I didn't even know you when you did. I fell in love with you with the metal one attached to your body, and it's the only you I've ever known. How could you possibly think I hate it?"

"You heard what people were saying tonight-"

"I'm not dating any of them or their opinions. And neither are you. Who gives a fuck what they have to say about it? Don't let them decide what parts of you are worth loving." You say grabbing his face.

"Don't you get tired?"

"No. I'd happily spend the rest of my life clapping back at people's ignorant comments if it meant always coming home to you. I've fought evils those peabrains couldn't even comprehend if they tried, their narrowminded drivel means nothing to me. They're like walking talking gossip rags. Who pays those any attention?" You roll your eyes.

"I love you."

"I love you too. All of you. Even with your metal arm and your chaotic history. Don't you dare let random noise make you forget that." You poke his chest.

"Alright alright." He laughs pulling you against his chest into a hug.

***

[wsoc-gay]

World Cup Results III

Part 1 Part 2

Ona Batlle x Reader

Summary: The rest of Ona's pregnancy.

A/N: And I present to you over 7000 words of pure fluff. Please enjoy and as always leave your requests in my asks!

You and Ona stayed in England with your family until two days after Christmas. You loved getting to go home, you didn’t see your parents often now that you live so far, so every time you get to go home you embrace the time there. However, this time your mom and two older sisters were busy fussing over Ona to pay you much mind. Both of your sisters already had kids so while you were entertaining your nieces and nephews, they were fussing over how the baby of the family was finally going to expand her family.

You loved how much your family loved Ona, they have since you introduced them when you were 18. This love only grew when you and Ona had called them after the first ultrasound. The time in England was well spent but went by quickly and before you both knew it you were back in Spain spending the remainder of your break in Ona’s hometown.

Spending time with Ona’s family went much the same as seeing your family had. Her parents were overjoyed when they heard the news about their first grandbaby and were excited to finally have time with their daughter. You both loved getting time to spend with your families and were upset when it was time to return to your normal life.

Now officially fifteen weeks along Ona was done with matches but was still allowed to train non-contact. The club discussed with you and Ona that a statement needed to be made surrounding her absence from the team sheet and together you settled on saying Ona suffered an ankle injury during training and would be out for an unknown period of time.

You both knew eventually you wouldn’t be able to hide it from the public but agreed you wanted to keep it out of the public eye for as long as you could. 

---

Saturday rolled around and it was the day of your gender reveal. You and Ona had originally agreed that you didn’t want to have a party and make a big deal of it, but Mapi and Ingrid were not letting that happen. Ingrid wanted to celebrate the baby, but Mapi took any excuse for a party. 

So, now you and Ona were arriving back at your home after being forced out the door that morning by Ingrid insistent on decorating your house. When you walked through the door you both were shocked to see your home coated in blue and pink decorations and your entire team scattered between your living room and backyard.

You took turns hugging your teammates as they began to notice the both of you entering the room. After all the greetings and just spending some time with your teammates enjoying the company Ingrid announced that she had enough of waiting and it was time for the reveal.

She led everyone outside to the table on your porch which had a cake decorated in blue and pink frosting. Ingrid explained that she had the cake filled with either pink or blue frosting and that all you and Ona had to do was cut the cake and show off the color waiting inside.

You and Ona stood behind the cake, one hand on the small of her back and the other placed on her stomach, when she thanked your teammates, “Before we do this, I just wanted to say thank you all for being here and for supporting us as much as you all already have,” She started to tear up clearly emotional from the hormones as you pulled her tighter against your side and her hand covered yours over her stomach, “We’re so lucky that our baby is going to grow up with you all.”

You cut her off before she got too emotional, “Now let’s find out if our baby is going to be Barça men’s or women’s team captain!” Your comment was met with laughs and cheers from your teammates as you looked over to your girlfriend, “You ready to do this?”

She nodded as you picked up the knife together and sliced a piece of the cake being careful not to look down and see the icing covering the knife. You slid the knife under the slice before your teammates began counting down the reveal, “Tres, dos, uno!” 

You lifted the slice to reveal the icing inside met with cheers from your teammates and Ona collapsing into your arms, both of them wrapping tightly around her back as hers found the back of your neck.

She whispered into your neck, emotions lacing her voice, “Una niña pequeña.” 

You littered kissed all over the side of her head going down to her cheek, “We’re having a baby girl, love,” Ona dropped a hand from the back of your neck to rub against her small bump. You dropped to you knee and took her belly in between your hands and placed small kissed there before whispering against it, “Hola mi nena, te quiero mucho.”

You rose back to your feet and took Ona’s face in between your hands and kissed her passionately. Both of you forgetting of your teammates surrounding you as you were caught up in your own little world. 

That was until Alexia spoke up, “A little future Alexia! The future queen of Barça!”

Then broke out some arguments between teammates about who the baby would become as a footballer. You and Ona were greeted by hugs and congratulations from every teammate in attendance, everyone so happy for the little girl on the way.

The party began to settle down and while many of your teammates were still there you and Ona found yourselves sat on your couch, one of your arms wrapped around her shoulders with a hand on her bump, it seemed like your hand hadn’t left the spot since finding out. You kissed the side of her head, “It feels a lot more real now, knowing it’s a little girl.”

The brunette chuckled, “It’s felt very real since I was spending every moment throwing up. Or maybe since I had to run out of training to throw up.”

You laughed, “Yeah, that made it real, didn’t it?”

Ona turned her head to kiss you, “I know what you mean, amor, we’re having a baby girl,” Her hand rubbed circles on her bump, “There’s a little baby girl in there.”

You smiled looking up to think, “Does this mean its officially project-y/l/n?”

She laughed and slapped your thigh, “No, it is project Batlle, she will be an outside back like her Mami.”

You scoffed, “Over my dead body, our baby girl will captain England and Barça at center forward.”

Ona shot up at that and placed a finger on your chest, “Okay, now that is not happening. No child of mine will play for anyone, but Spain.”

You laughed and pulled her back to lay against you, “We will see what she decides when the time comes, love,” You sighed thinking about the future, “I can’t wait for her to all of our matches, seeing her in the stands, our baby girl watching her Mami out there.”

“Her Mami and her Mummy,” You smiled down at her, “Now that we know it’s a girl we’re going to need to start thinking of names.”

You dropped your head back against the couch, “Oh god not names there’s too many of them.”

---

You felt the baby move and kick for the first time when Ona was 20 weeks. Ona had felt her move for the first time at 17 weeks, you were lying in bed when it happened.

Ona had just woken up; you were still sleeping as was usual for you both. She was laying on her side scrolling through her phone when she suddenly felt a slight flutter in her stomach. At first, she thought it was an oncoming of nausea, but when moments later when she felt it again she knew it wasn’t nausea.

She tried ignoring the feeling, but as it kept happening over the next few minutes, she was becoming increasingly worried about the new feeling. This was one she had never felt before and she wasn’t sure if something was wrong with the baby. As she felt the fluttering more her anxiety was increasing.

After a few flutters Ona convinced herself, something was wrong with the baby and in a panic began calling your name, “Y/n, y/n, wake up,” She looked over to you and saw no movement, typical you always have slept like a rock. She began rocking your shoulder in desperate efforts to awake you while repeating the same phrase.

After the third shake you shot up in bed looking over at Ona, who looked terrified with her hands on either side of her stomach, “What’s wrong, Oni? Is it the baby?”

Your hand found its spot on the front of her stomach as you looked at her face with worried eyes, “I don’t know something feels weird,” Her eyes met yours when you noticed the tears beginning to form in hers.

Now you were panicked racking your brain for what could be happening, “What do you mean weird? Should I call the doctor?”

She was still sat in the same position her tears now falling, “I don’t know, it’s like a fluttering,” She looked around the bed panicked, still, “I’m going to call my Mami.”

You nodded your head, “Okay yeah, call her first.”

She grabbed her phone from her side and dialed for her before beginning to pace around the bedroom, “Hola Mami, lo siento por despertarte, pero creo que algo anda mal con el bebé.”

You stood up and took a hold of her free hand to slow her pacing as she focused intently on the call and continued speaking to her mother, “No sé, se siente como un palpitación,” She took a deep breath and a small smile came across her face, “En serio?” You continued looking at her with a confused expression, not being able to hear what the other side of the conversation was. Ona smiled at you and squeezed your hand, to let you know it was okay, “Vale, gracias Mami, te amo mucho.”

She hung up the phone and threw it back to the bed, but wasn’t telling you what happened, “And? What did she say?”

The brunette took one of your hands and placed it flat against her stomach with a smile splayed across her face, “She said I’m feeling the baby move, she’s kicking in there.”

Your jaw dropped and the shocked expression moved into a smile as you leaned into press a passionate kiss to her lips. You dropped to your knee and placed your hands on either side of her stomach, lifting her shirt to place kisses across the small bump, “Hola, mi bebé, you’re really in there kicking aren’t you.”

Ona laced her fingers into your hair as she chuckled at your words, “She’s really in there,” She used her free hand to wipe some of the tears that had fallen, “Oh thank god she is okay in there.”

Ever since that morning every time Ona felt something you raced to place a hand in attempts to feel something. It was slightly disheartening knowing that you still couldn’t feel anything, but you both knew this was nothing abnormal and that as the baby grew you would be able to feel it from the outside.

As training was nearing the end you were playing some small-sided matches, which Ona was no longer allowed to compete in. She was sat on the bench watching when she felt the same fluttering, but stronger this time. She placed a hand to cover the spot of the kicking and thought she slightly felt it from the outside.

Ingrid, who was sat next to her, must’ve noticed the tight nit expression on her face, “Is everything okay, Ona?”

Ona knew if she said the baby was kicking that she’d ask to feel, but she knew you deserved to be the first to feel it so, as hard as it was, she lied to the Norwegian, “Oh yeah, everything’s good, just a little nausea.”

Ingrid gave you a soft smile back replying okay while you sat, excitedly waiting for the end of training, and hoping that the baby would still be kicking. 

A few minutes later Jonathan blew his whistle signaling for the end of training and Ona was immediately on her feet running towards you.

You had a confused look on your face as you noticed her running over, “What is it, love?”

She grabbed your hand and put it across the side of her stomach where she was still feeling the small kicks. You still had a confused look on your face as your teammates were all watching you two trying to figure out what was happening. 

It took about 30 seconds before you felt it, an ever so slight push against the palm of your hand. Your jaw dropped and you looked up to Ona with wide eyes, “Was that what I think it is?” A smile crossed her face as she nodded and you suddenly wrapped your arms around her waist, lifting and spinning her, before putting her back on her feet and moving you hand back to the spot you felt the kick, “She did it again! Look at her go!”

Ona covered your hand with hers still smiling up at you when Mapi spoke up from behind, “Mind letting us in on what just happened?” Ingrid slapped her arm for clearly interrupting a moment between the two of you.

You turned to face your teammates with the biggest smile on your face, “Our little footballer is in there kicking away!”

Your teammates raced over to you two, but Ingrid was the first there, pushing you out of the way and replacing your hand with her own.

Mapi pulled you away from the chaos and dragged you into a hug. You both turned to look back at your girlfriend as you chuckled, “You might be in trouble with that one,” you said pointing at the smile on Ingrid’s face as she felt the kicking.

Mapi smiled, “She’s been talking about babies non-stop since you guys told us.”

You patted her back, “You know another little Barça baby would be cute, they’d get to grow up together.”

The tattooed Spaniard laughed, “We’ll see in a few weeks if she’s serious about this or if it’s just from watching you two.”

---

Ona was 26 weeks along when you were driving home from training and Ona brought up the idea of announcing the pregnancy to the public. The media team had mentioned to Ona the idea of making an announcement and they were right, it needed to happen sooner rather than later. 

Ona was now definitely showing, and the media team was having to make sure no photos of training had her in them. The sudden absence of her from all social media was making media outlets and fans begin to ask questions. Ona’s sudden disappearance as well the “ankle injury” that seemed to be never ending yet absent when she was spotted at matches, didn’t help with the speculations. 

You both loved having this little secret out of the public eye and just enjoying the time of you both and your closest friends and families knowing, but you both agreed it was time to go public. Ona was getting sick of having to answer questions about her ankle injury and having to wear baggy clothes to hide her now obvious bump.

There was a match today and you both decided that after you would make a post on Instagram for the announcement but didn’t want to distract from the match by posting something beforehand.

However, you had slight other ideas. You scored in the match that day and knowing that you’d be announcing it that night, shoved the ball under your shirt and sucked on your thumb as your celebration. As you ran back into position you made eye contact with Ona, seeing her sitting above the bench shaking her head at you with a hand resting on her stomach. 

The media team shook their heads at you as you danced around the topic of your celebration during interviews and avoided any questions asked about it. After being done with media you assured them you would be announcing it that night and that the club had full permission to release their statement in the morning. 

That night Ona laid against your chest as you made a joint Instagram post with a few professional photos you had taken earlier in the week at a local beach. The first, you sat in the sand with Ona between your legs, and your hands wrapped around her resting on her bump; the second, you standing side by side with one hand on the small of her back, and the other placed on her stomach her hand covering yours; the third, the two of you holding up a small Barcelona jersey with “June 2028” written on the back; and finished the post off with the photo of your celebration from earlier that day. You didn’t add a caption to the post, everything having been said in the photos.

The media and fans went crazy over the post, it seeming to be reposted hundreds of times on every site imaginable. Every media outlet reaching out for statements. The club agreed the next day to release their statement and that if you both wanted, they could set up a media conference for you to address it yourselves.

The announcement from the club didn’t cause as big of a stir as your post had made, however, fans were freaking out after the press conference. It was two days after the official statement from the club where you and Ona were sat to answer the media’s questions. Plastered all over social media were clips and photos taken during the meeting. Many of them being moments of you gushing over your girlfriend and future child with a smile splayed across your face.

One moment, however, was shared more than any. One reporter asked Ona why she chose to disrupt her career at what seemed to be her prime, to have a baby. Obviously, you and Ona both agreed that the time was right and had lengthy conversations before about why the timing was right, but hearing the reporter phrase it how they did caused a pit to sink deep in your stomach. You couldn’t help, but feel like you were disrupting her career, that Ona putting everything on hold for this may not have been a good idea. 

You were beginning to sweat and tried racking your brain for the best way to answer the question, to defend your family, but no matter what you thought everything turned back to the doubt. That was until Ona spoke up, confidently enough for you to believe she had prepared for this question, “I told y/n that I wanted to have a baby while we were still sitting on the pitch after the World Cup final,” She looked to you with a soft smile, “We had talked about it before, but it always seemed like something in the future for us. But, after that match I felt like I had completed everything I had dreamed of in football. I’ve won two World Cups, multiple Champions Leagues, Domestic Cups, League titles, there isn’t much more in my career I could ask for.”

You leaned on your elbow and raised your hand to address the room, “I would like to say that I told her we could wait until after our careers, and also gave her a month after the World Cup to make sure she didn’t think of this just because of the adrenaline from winning,” Ona chuckled as you reached to grab her hand under the table, “But, when she said she was serious about starting the process I was all in, I cannot wait to start a family with this woman.”

Ona had a smile so big on her face you could see it in her eyes, “I want our kids to be able to watch our careers, I want them to grow up with memories of coming to matches, being around the teams, coming onto the field to celebrate championships with us, and I want to be able to experience that in my career,” She looked and motioned to some of the staff members sat with you, “The club has been incredible, I’ve been working with them throughout the pregnancy since I was no longer allowed to play, and doing everything we can to make the transition and recovery back into football as easy as possible after my maternity leave.”

The club made a few comments on Ona’s current training regiment, which at this point in the pregnancy was non-contact drills with the team and some slightly modified lifts. 

The last question was from one of the major sporting outlets, you hadn’t announced the gender of the baby, so it was one of the major questions swarming around, “So, do we have a future captain of Barça Femení or the Men?”

You and Ona hadn’t talked about whether or not you wanted the gender out there before she was born. You didn’t mind either way, but you weren’t sure how Ona felt about the topic, if she wanted to keep that private until she was born. You looked you her and nodded when she made eye contact, letting her know the response was up to her discretion. Her hand rested on the top of her bump, hidden under the table as she smiled, “We won’t force them into anything they do not want to do, we will encourage them to play football, and hope that they will love it the same way we do, however, if they don’t share our passion they won’t be forced into it,” Ona was obviously being cautious with the pronouns she was using, which confused even you, not knowing whether or not she was going to tell them, “But if they do end up having a career like ours, they will be a second-generation Femení player.”

You smiled at her response and jumped to interject, “And the Lionesses!”

Ona swatted at your arm and chucked, “She means España, but that’s long conversation in itself.”

The conference was wrapped up swiftly and as you both walked down the halls of your beloved club, hand in hand, you felt an overwhelming sense of pride bubble up inside you, for both your girlfriend and daughter. Listening to Ona answer their questions with such confidence silenced any worries you previously had about this not being the right time, and any fears you had about Ona possibly regretting the timing later. 

A lot of emotions swirled up as you walked down those halls. You had been at this club for quite a few years now, and like Ona had mentioned, won so many titles and shared so many special moments. Your team’s victories as well as one of your Ballon d’Ors sat in display cases on the walls. You had so much pride in this club and in the life you had built here, you couldn’t wait to share it with your daughter one day.

---

Ona was 34 weeks along the week of the Champions League final. The final was being hosted at Wembley and you originally had some hesitations with her traveling so far, this late into the pregnancy. 

It was the day before you would travel to the final when you were sat in the doctor’s office awaiting the doctor to come in for your routine ultrasound, and for Ona to ask her to convince you to allow her to accompany you and your teammates for the trip. 

Every time you had an appointment to see the baby the morning was full of anxiety sided by excitement. Sitting in the office you were sat in your usual chair besides Ona, your knee bouncing a hundred miles a minute as your thoughts ran. Even though there was nothing to attest that something was wrong with the baby you were always worried going into the ultrasounds that something could have happened.

Ona noticed your nervousness and reached a hand out for you, “Ven aquí, mi amor,” You stood up and walked to stand beside where she laid on the table. 

You moved your hand, not being held by Ona, to flatten out her hair, “¿Todo bien?”

She squeezed your hand, desperate to calm your nerves, “We have no reason to believe there is something wrong with the baby, you can calm down.”

You leaned down and pressed your lips to her hairline, “You know I just worry.”

“I know you do, but you don’t have to,” Suddenly Ona felt a harsh kick to her ribs, lifted her shirt to reveal her now large bump, and moved your hand she was holding to cover the area of her stomach being assaulted, “See, your daughter is trying to tell you she is fine.”

You smiled as you looked at Ona and felt the kicks against your hand, “That’s our daughter,” You leaned down to press a kiss to where your daughter currently resides, “Hola mi nena, te quiero mucho. I cannot wait to meet you.”

Ona smiled at the interaction, “But you better stay in there for at least 6 more weeks.”

You remained where you were standing for the next few minutes waiting for the doctor’s arrival. Some of your anxieties lessened due to feeling your daughter move around, but still desperate for someone professional to come in and alleviate all your fears. 

The doctor came in and as soon as you could see your little girl on the screen tears came to your eyes, as they did at every ultrasound. You tightly gripped Ona’s hand as you watched your daughter, noticeably bigger than the last ultrasound, kicking around inside your girlfriend. 

You smiled as you watched her move around, “My future footballer in there, already training look at her.”

Ona chuckled, but adoringly looked at the screen, “She could relax with her training when I am trying to sleep,” She patted your chest, “You know she may not want to play football and I will not let you force her.”

You laughed and motioned to the screen, “Are you joking, look at her in there. That’s a future Ballon d’Or winner,” Ona sent you a glare, “She will not need to be forced into anything, she already is used to the sounds of a match she will be born with the love of football.”

Ona’s tense expression turned soft, thinking about your daughter being on the outside with you, “Hopefully the matches playing on the tv with sooth her to sleep then.”

Now you were dreaming of the future. Having a match on the tv as you tried your best to stay quiet while your daughter slept on Ona’s chest, her scolding you every time you yelled toward the match being played. You would try your best to keep the mumbling commentary quiet, but your daughter would be far too used to the sound of your voice repeating every movement on the screen. 

The doctor confirmed everything was healthy with the baby and your fears slowly drifted away. She noted that the baby was on the larger size, compared to Ona, but this was nothing to worry about with her coming from your eggs and you being quite bigger than the small Spaniard. 

The doctor then explained that she was happy to let Ona fly with the team to the final, knowing it would be a quick trip there was nothing to worry about. She confirmed there were no signs to cause early labor and that both her and the baby were completely healthy and cleared for the travel. 

That is how you found yourself running off the field as soon as the final whistle blew, straight to where Ona was stood in the stands besides both of your families. You gently helped her over the barricade and down to celebrate with the rest of your teammates. She was sporting a Batlle jersey specifically made for her to wear to this match but was still stretched thin over her noticeable bump.

Having played in the matches during the group stages Ona was able to be recognized that day as a player and as a Champions League winner. You didn’t think you’ve ever been so in love with her as you watched her walk up to receive her medal, the bottom of it gently resting on the top of her bump, one hand on the underside cradling it. 

You received your medal and followed to stand beside her as the trophy celebrations began. One arm wrapped around her shoulders as your teammates surrounding you jumping for joy over the excitement of victory. You and Ona were in your own world as you stood together cheering, Ona too uncomfortable to do much jumping. You knew in this moment watching the joy on her face, that this would be a day you would remember for the rest of your life. You, your girlfriend, your soon to be born daughter, being stood on that stage celebrating a Champions League win, technically all three of you having been involved in the tournament. 

Hundreds of photos of you were taken after that match, with and without Ona, but the most special had to be you and Ona, foreheads touching, simply lost in each other’s eyes, your hands and her own resting on her stomach, completely lost in the moment. That night you posted to Instagram, one of your team celebrating, the photo previously mentioned, and one of your diving header during the match, closing it off with a simple caption: “Baby’s first Champions League.”

That night your teammates insisted you and Ona join them for the celebrations, you insisted the two of you simply go home and celebrate together, Ona being exhausted and you not wanting her anywhere near a busy club, but Ona said she was up for going for at least a little while. She wanted you to have the chance to celebrate one final trophy before your whole world was turned upside down. 

It took a lot of convincing from your girlfriend, but eventually you agreed, after forcing Ona to promise you it would only be quick. As soon as you walked into the busy club, littered with your teammates and their friends and families, you walked Ona over to a table where you planned to stay by her side until your agreed upon time to leave.

What you didn’t expect, however, was to drink quite a bit while sitting at that table. The alcohol in your system caused you to allow Lucy to drag you away from Ona, leaving her with yours and her parents while you were dancing and celebrating all over the club. As time ticked by Ona grew increasingly tired and ended up returning to your home alongside your parents. After a little while and many more drinks you stumbled your way over to the table only to discover the Spaniard missing from her seat. 

After it was confirmed, she had been taken home, you were following close behind. Lucy and Kiera lived in the same neighborhood as you so knowing that Lucy had also already had way more than enough to drink, Kiera offered to take you both home. 

You insisted on being fine to walk yourself in and Kiera allowed for it, more focused on taking care of her clearly inebriated girlfriend. You stumbled into the house knocking into a few doorways as you made your way to your guest bedroom, even in your current state not wanting to wake up Ona. You knew she had been having trouble sleeping recently so, therefore, you fell into the bed which has not been touched in months. 

You must have been louder than you thought because suddenly while you were face down in the mattress you heard a voice coming from the doorway, “What are you doing in here?”

You turned towards the voice to see Ona stood in one of your t-shirts, which normally looked oversized on her now showing off the bottom of her bump, with a glass of water in her hand, “You’re supposed to be sleeping, love.”

She chuckled, but stayed leaned against the door frame, “Well you ran into the wall a few times trying to find this room.”

You rolled onto your back and covered your face with your hands, upset over waking her, “I came in here so I wouldn’t wake you and now that’s exactly what I did. I’m horrible you deserve better.”

Your girlfriend’s heard fluttered hearing how upset you were over waking her. Even in your intoxicated state all you cared about was her, you didn’t go through the kitchen and bang glasses trying to get water, you didn’t crawl into your own bed and accidentally shake her awake, all because you were thinking of her. Ona removed herself from the doorway and walked over to your bedside, running her fingers through your hair, “You did nothing wrong, mi amor, it’s very sweet you came in here simply not to wake me. You’re too good to me.”

“I could never be too good to you,” You looked up to her with a sly smile, words slightly slurred, “Baby Mamí.”

Ona chuckled, “Would it make you feel better if I told you that you didn’t wake me,” Your brows furrowed confused, “Your daughter has been kicking me ever since I left the club, she doesn’t like going to bed without her Mummy.”

You leaned up onto your elbow, coming face to face with where your baby resided, placing a hand there, “Mi nena you can’t be keeping your Mamí awake, she needs her sleep so you can grow nice and big like your Mummy.”

Ona laughed and covered your hand with hers, “She can’t grow too big while she’s still in there, she can wait until after she’s here.”

You looked up to her with a serious look, “We’re having a private conversation here.”

Ona raised a hand in surrender, “Lo siento, continúa.”

You felt a kick against your hand and smiled, “I’m right here baby girl, it’s just you and me, Mamí isn’t listening,” You whispered as Ona watched in utter adornment, “I cannot wait to meet you, you’re going to be so perfect because your Mamí made you and she’s perfect too. But now you have to go to sleep so she can get some sleep and you can keep growing in there. You can practice your football once you are with me, and I can train you to be the captain of England.”

You heard Ona sigh from above you, “We’re not getting started on this conversation,” She grabbed you hand and started dragging you out of the bed, “Now that you have calmed her down, lets quickly go to our bed so I can fall asleep before she starts up again.”

You pressed a kiss to your girlfriend’s stomach before getting up and allowing yourself to be dragged into bed. You laid in bed with an arm wrapped around Ona and your hand resting on her bump, your whole world right there in your arms, “Goodnight my loves.”

“There’s medicine on the bedside table for when you wake up with a headache. Duerme bien, mi amor.”

---

Six weeks later on a hot day in the middle of June your little girl decided she was ready to meet her parents, ready to meet the world, and ready to see everything you had spent hours explaining to her every night. 

Ona’s contractions had started early that morning, they were light and far apart for the morning. Ona had tried insisting you on going to training, knowing it would be hours before you could go to the hospital, but you weren’t leaving her side that day. So, there you laid on your couch, with Ona laid against your chest when her water broke. After about an hour of you pacing around your home, making sure you had everything ready to bring home your little girl, and making sure your hospital bag had everything that you could ever need even though it had been packed for weeks, it was finally time to go to the hospital. 

The labor was slow, full of Ona rocking on a yoga ball and pacing around the hospital room, with you never a step or two away from her side. After about four hours in the hospital Ona’s parents and brother had come to visit. Her mom soothing her daughter and giving you a chance to step out of the room, use the restroom, and give yourself some time to take a breath. It was a stressful day and getting the chance to take a deep breath was exactly what you needed, knowing Ona was in the hands of her mother. It was hard seeing Ona in so much pain and not being able to do anything about it, but you knew how strong the small woman was and that there was no one on Earth you’d rather be doing this with.

It was about an hour later when Ona was insisting on the doctor to come in, that it was time. Everyone had told her to trust herself and to listen to her body, and truth behold, the doctor came in and confirmed she was 10 centimeters. 

As the doctor prepared what she needed, you took your spot besides Ona, one hand firmly gripped in her own, and your other arm resting behind her head. You let out a nervous breath and kissed her forehead, “You’re doing so well already, I’m so proud of you.”

Ona looked up with you with tired eyes, but a smile none the less, “She’s going to be here.”

You smiled right back, “Yes she will, love, we’re going to have our baby girl here real soon.”

“I have to push,” Ona announced.

“Once the next contraction hits, you can push, Ms. Batlle,” the doctor confirmed.

Ona pushed, gripping your hand and letting out a scream throughout each. You leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of her head, in between pushes, “You’re doing so well, Oni, she’ll be here soon.”

After about twenty minutes of pushing the doctor announced that your daughter’s head was out and now, she should take a break before the shoulders. Ona laid her head back against the pillow and you pressed a kiss to her lips, “I love you baby, you’re doing so well,” you whispered rubbing your thumb along the back of her neck.

Ona turned her head to look at you the exhaustion written on her face, “I’m so tired, I can’t.”

You gave her hand a tight squeeze, “Yes you can, love. You’re doing so well, I know you can do this,” You told her again, “Thank you so much for doing this, I love you. Now just a little more and we have our baby girl.”

The doctor looked up at the two of you, “She’s almost here now, one more push, Ms. Batlle.”

“See, you’re almost done,” You whispered. You didn’t move from your spot, but leaned forward just in time to see the doctor catch your daughter, “Oh baby, she’s here,” you said as you opened the hospital gown uncovering her chest and the doctor laid you daughter there. You had tears in your eyes as you pressed a kiss to Ona’s hairline, “You did it, love, she’s here now.”

The doctor asked if you wanted to cut the cord, but you completely missed it, too busy watching Ona with your daughter laid against her chest. She used a hand to lightly push against your bicep, “Go cut the cord, amor,” You snapped back into reality and walked to the doctor, cutting the cord.  

You returned to your spot beside the bed, enamored with the little girl lying on your girlfriend’s chest. Her brown eyes staring up at Ona, as you wiped the few tears that had fallen from the Spaniard’s eyes. You kissed Ona’s temple, “You made the perfect baby, I love you so much.”

Ona let out a soft laugh and laid a gentle kiss to the top of your daughter’s head, “She is perfect isn’t she.”

You hadn’t taken your eyes off of them until the doctor gently interrupted, “Mamí, you need to deliver the placenta. The nurses can check your baby girl over, do all the measurements, and then she’ll be right back in your arms,” Ona shook her head and nodded towards the doctor, “Mum can stay with her the whole time, it’ll be quick.”

You could tell Ona was still hesitant to let her daughter go, “I’ll be right there with her the whole time,” You whispered, “It’ll be quick, and we’ll know she’s okay.”

Ona nodded, with tears still in her eyes, “You don’t let her out of your sight.”

You kissed her forehead, “Never,” the nurse slowly took your daughter from her arms as you followed close behind.

Once the nurse finished cleaning her off and inspecting what they needed, he announced loud enough for Ona to hear, “You have a perfectly healthy baby girl, weighing in at a whopping 8 pounds 2 ounces.”

You could hear Ona laugh from her bed, “No wonder that hurt so bad.”

You picked up your daughter carefully holding her in your arms, finally having your baby girl in your arms. You slowly walked to the bed while whispering to her, “Hola mi nena perfecta, I hope you recognize my voice, it’s your Mummy. You’re so perfect just like your Mamí,” You smiled down at her, staring into her big brown eyes, “You’re such a big girl, huh? You’re going to be a perfect center forward for England one day, carry on your Mummy’s legacy,” You whispered the last part, knowing better than to let Ona hear it.

Ona slid to the side of her bed, making room for you to sit, and admired how you looked at your daughter with all love. You reached to transfer the baby back into Ona’s arms, but she shook her head, “Just sit and keep her for a little while, hold your daughter.”

You happily sat next to her as Ona laid her head on your shoulder and reached an arm around to rub your daughter’s back. You gently lifted the baby to place a kiss on her forehead, “It’s a good thing you didn’t stay in there longer, mi nena, I don’t think your Mamí would’ve had room for you to get much bigger.”

Ona laughed beside you, “No wonder I haven’t been able to sleep in weeks, you had me stretched thin, mi pequeña.”

“Sleep now, Oni, you deserve it.”

She hummed at your comment, “I’m okay, just happy to watch you two for a little while longer.”

You looked to her smiling, “Are we still going with the name?”

“Sí, Camila Grace Y/L/N Batlle.”

As you sat there with you daughter in your arms and Ona laid beside you that this simply was the best moment of your life, no trophy and no accomplishment in football could ever top this moment. All you ever needed for the rest of your life was right here with you, everything could come tumbling down and you could never play football again, but as long as you had your girls you knew everything would be okay. As those brown eyes looked up, you knew the feeling of love in a way you had never felt before, not in the way you loved your family, or the way you loved Ona, in a way that was waiting for this moment; the moment your own daughter laid in your arms, the arms that would protect her for the rest of her life. 

[minisugakoobies]

Confessions of a Dirty Mind | Bang Chan

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader Genre: smut, and they were roommates!, porn with the barest of plots, a little fluff Rating: M (18+) Warnings: incredibly thirsty pining, reader’s a bit feral for her roommate, the giggles will be deployed as a weapon, reader drops the d word (daddy) in her dirty thoughts but never says it out loud, accidental texts, body worship (abs, thighs, breasts - everything gets praised), love bites/marking, grinding, chan is thick everywhere, chan throws reader around a little, hints at dom!chan, fingering, oral sex (m + f receiving), facefucking, cum eating, reader is kind of an idiot but that's okay!, I wrote this out of a dire need to s this man’s d Word Count: 6.5K Disclaimers: NSFW; obviously I don’t own SKZ - they just inspire me Summary: The absolute last thing you want is for your roommate to find out just how much you want him. Right?

A/N: Well, as threatened promised, I'm writing for Stray Kids now in addition to BTS! This came out of absolutely nowhere last week. I've just got Bang Chan brainrot 24/7 now, so that's cool. Thanks to @minttangerines @bangtanintotheroom @sugalaritae for their support (and amazing Aussie accents!!) 💕

Unbeta'd as usual. Please let me know what you think! Like if you'd like to see more skz fics from me… that would fuel me to keep writing. If everyone hates this I'm quitting writing and moving to the wild to live with the koalas ✌️

Being roommates with your crush is its own special type of torture. Always being so close to what you want but never being able to touch. To taste. To feel. 

You weren’t always this feral. Once upon a time, you were normal. Well-adjusted, even. Then you had to move for your job and needed to find a place to stay fast and your best friend Minho just happened to know someone looking for a roommate. 

Honestly, looking back, it was too easy. Should’ve known there’d be a catch. And that catch was your sanity. 

Because Minho’s friend Bang Chan turned out to be the hottest man you’ve ever seen in your life. 

Listen. A lot of people use phrases like that all the time, “the hottest man you’ve ever seen,”  some hyperbole they say for ridiculous effect, but you mean it. You have never seen anyone as beautiful as this man, with his chiseled cheekbones, thick lips, and those dimples. 

Fuck. Those dimples. Almost as maddening as the washboard abs he’s constantly showing off. You didn’t know a person could be allergic to shirts until you met Chan. 

And now you’re suffering. Every. Damn. Day. 

It’s not just that he’s the most gorgeous man on the planet. No, that would be hurtful enough, but he’s also kind. Smart. Silly as hell. You’re constantly plagued by his sweet smiles and unbelievably adorable giggles. 

The worst part, though, is the way he can flip between sexy and soft instantaneously. Like when the two of you argue over something stupid. All of your arguments are fundamentally stupid. The two of you get on so fucking well, the only things you argue over are opinions on pointless things. Like last night, when you’d joined him for a beer while he watched tv. 

“You’re out of your mind,” Chan had declared, twisting sideways on the couch to look at you. “There’s no way a koala could possibly defeat a kangaroo in a cage match!”

“Sure it could.” 

“No, it could not!” Chan let loose a flurry of high-pitched giggles. “Have you ever seen a kangaroo? Those things are ripped! One kick or punch, and the koala’s out.” He mimed a powerful punch.

You tipped back the remainder of your beer before pointing the bottle at him. “Yes it could! Think about it - what do koalas do?” When he just blinked, you continued. “They climb! And what do koalas usually have?” Again, a blank stare. “Syphilis! So… think about it! All that little guy has to do is climb up the kangaroo, give him some germs, and boom! Kangaroo goes down.” You grin smugly. “There’s a reason they call syphilis the silent killer.” 

Chan fixed you with his signature Look™, the one you think of as “stern dom daddy” - thick eyebrows drawn, bottom lip tucked between his teeth, dark eyes scanning your face - and you felt your knees go weak. Then he blinded you with the full sunshiny force of his smile, eyes closing, dimples popping. 

“That is an absolutely insane argument, not to mention completely incorrect. I don’t even know where to start explaining why you’re wrong.” He paused. “No, actually, let’s start with the fact that it’s chlamydia, not syphilis, that koalas get, and go from there.” By the time he’d finished  and you’d finally conceded that a kangaroo would probably win, the two of you were nearly in tears from laughing.

His duality is whiplash-inducing. And always leaves you in ruins. 

So when your feelings overwhelm you, when you feel like you’re absolutely bursting at the seams with need, you do what you always do. Torture Minho. 

Your bff is used to you venting to him about your crippling inability to make a move. On anyone. Ever. Over the years, he’s weathered dozens of crushes that never went anywhere because while you’re definitely a total treasure, you lack the confidence to make any of your (usually horny) dreams come true. He’s come to expect the endless text messages you send. 

Except that now, “messages” might not be the right word for them. “Unhinged ravings” might be more accurate. 

Ughhhh he’s so damn fine Today he came home from the gym all sweaty and I nearly offered to give him a bath With my tongue. My TONGUE Minho!

Like he’s always done, Minho bears it all in stride with his usual unwavering compassion.

You’re a lunatic

He doesn’t even try to convince you to say something to Chan about your feelings anymore. Now he just waits for you to exhaust yourself and then he changes the subject. Usually by sending photos of his cats. 

It’s an odd friendship, but neither of you would trade it for anything. 

At the moment, you’re ignoring your pain by lying on your bed, in a tee and sweats, watching a movie on your laptop. You can hear your roommate rummaging around his room. Your apartment features a Jack and Jill bathroom, so it’s easy for you to hear what’s going on next door through the adjoining space.

“Channie, why are you pacing around?” you call out. 

Your phone buzzes. 

Trying to find my shirt  

“Are you seriously texting me from the next room?” Pausing your movie, you trudge through the bathroom. The door to Chan’s room is open so you don’t bother to knock, flopping down on his bed as he digs through his closet. He’s shirtless as usual, blond curls shaking with the force of his rummaging.

“Yeah, sorry, ‘m in a hurry and didn’t want to stop looking,” Chan admits sheepishly, throwing a grin over his shoulder at you. You ignore the fluttering in your stomach and get comfortable, resting your head on your arms.

“You could’ve just said it out loud. I can hear you all over this apartment.” It’s not a big space. Which only amplifies your angst, as it’s hard to escape from your desires when the source of it is just constantly right there. Sprawling out on the tiny couch in the living room. Making himself a midnight snack in the kitchen. Lounging on your bed while you sit at your desk, trying not to stare at his reflection on your screen. “What shirt are you looking for?” 

“My tiger tank.” 

You know the shirt he’s speaking of - his white tank top with an embroidered tiger’s head on the chest. It’s a favorite of yours, cut low enough on the sides and in the front to show off his biceps and pecs at the same time. The first time you’d seen Chan in it, Minho had accused you of being a vampire because you couldn’t stop talking about how much you wanted to nibble on his collarbones. 

“Ah! Found it!” Chan raises the shirt over his head victoriously before yanking it on. He takes a moment to inspect himself in his mirror and you wonder if he truly recognizes just how stunning he is. He catches your eye in the reflection. “What are you up to tonight? Wanna come out with me, ‘Lix, & ‘Bin? We’re gonna get some drinks.”

Sure, you’d love to hang out at the bar with Chan and his friends. They’re always a good time. Except when closing time arrives and once again you’re forced to bear witness to your roommate getting hit on by basically every woman in the bar. Not that you can blame them. But it’s especially awful on the nights when he leaves with someone else. You’d rather not deal with that tonight.

“Nah, I’m just gonna relax. But thanks.” 

“Come on,” he wheedles, plopping down on the bed, hard enough to make you bounce a little. “You haven’t been out with us in ages. Is it the guys? Did one of them say something stupid?” 

“They always say stupid shit. That’s all they ever say,” you crack, smiling when Chan laughs. “But no, it’s nothing like that. I’m just tired.” 

Chan doesn’t say anything, just looks at you for a moment. The silence makes you inexplicably nervous, and you fiddle with his comforter for want of something to do with your hands. But then he just nods. “‘Kay. But if you change your mind, we’ll be down at Back Door.” 

“Thanks.” 

Chan heads into the bathroom to play with his hair. You slip past him, back into your room, throwing yourself dramatically onto your bed and burying your face in a plush pillow. How much longer can you stand this? 

You grab your phone. 

I’m losing my mind

You can practically hear the sigh in Minho’s voice as you read his response. 

What did Chan do now?

He’s getting ready to go out with Felix and Changbin He looks so fucking good in those tight jeans

Minho doesn’t reply. He knows to just let you get it out of your system before responding.

My mouth is literally watering It’s a Pavlovian response at this point I see denim and I start salivating

A text alert pops up in the middle of your thirsty ranting. 

Hey do you mind if I borrow your eyeliner?

“Stop texting me when you’re 10 feet away!” you yell, laughing. Chan pops his head out of the bathroom and flashes you that grin, the one that turns your insides to goo, and you sigh. “Of course you can borrow it, you know you can.” 

Thanks

“Chan!” 

His giggles float through the door and your thumbs fly.

Seriously If Chan doesn’t let me s his d one of these days I will die I will be the first person to die from ineedtosuckadick-itis

There’s a loud clattering in the bathroom, like someone’s knocked half the contents of the crowded sink counter onto the floor. Your makeup isn't cheap, so you hop up off your bed. 

“You okay in there?” The first thing you notice is the pile of smashed cosmetics on the ground. The second thing is the way your roommate is staring at you, eyes wide, sharpened kohl liner still clutched in one hand, phone in the other. “What? What’s wrong?” 

Chan doesn’t speak, but raises his phone and kind of waves it limply. 

Oh god. You were in the wrong chat. You were in the wrong chat and now Chan knows you want to suck his dick. You’ve been texting for most of your life and this is the moment your brain decides to fuck up?!

As Chan continues to stare, you realize you have two choices: fess up and own it, or play dumb.

It’s no choice.

“What, uhhhhhhh, what’s up?” 

Chan gestures to his phone. “You want to suck my dick?” He says the words as if they’re unfamiliar to him, like he’s trying them out for the first time. 

Well, shit, how are you supposed to play dumb if he’s just going to call you right out? 

“Guess the cat’s out of the horny bag now,” you mutter under your breath.

Chan cocks his head. “What?”

“Nothing,” you cough, looking at your own phone. “I mean, uh, noooo, what? Minho and I were just, um, talking about how I want to, uh, sssssss…” you glance wildly around the cramped room, hissing like a frantic snake as you fail to come up with another word that starts with s, before your eyes land on an empty glass sitting by the sink. “…Share a drink with you? Because I’m… thirsty?”

“You’re thirsty?”

Fucking understatement.

You can’t quite read the expression on Chan’s face as he glances between you and his phone. There’s a flash of dom daddy in there and then it’s gone. 

“YN. I know what ‘s his d’ means. Also, you said you had - what did you call it? Ineedtosuckadickitis.” You think Chan’s lips quirk slightly as he reminds you of your textual idiocy, but you’re too busy trying to psychically rip a hole in the floor so you can disappear forever to be certain. “Where do you get your medical info, by the way? I’m starting to worry.” 

He’s making light of the situation, which you would appreciate more if you weren’t sure you’re about to die from embarrassment. Your mind is reeling. There’s no way to get out of this. Any second now, he’s gonna realize how you feel. Then he’s gonna let you down. Gently, you hope. Then you’re gonna need to find a new place to live, because there’s no recovering from this.

“Fine.” You take a deep breath. “Yes, I said it.” Unable to look him in the eye, you focus on your phone as you speak. “I was telling Minho how much I want to suck your dick, because I’m a disgusting horny monster who can’t stop thinking about it. I’m sorry. I’m gonna go pack up my room now.” Shoulders slumping, you slink away, hoping he won’t follow. 

He does. “Wait, what?” 

You don’t answer, heading directly for your closet, tugging at your suitcase where it lies on a shelf, and he crowds into your space, arms reaching out to stop you. 

“Oi, slow down! What are you doing?” 

“I’ll try to be out quickly, so you can find a new roommate right away.” You keep pulling on the suitcase, but it’s futile. He barely has to exert any strength to push it back, so you give up. 

“YN.” Chan places his hands on your shoulders, turning you around. It’s probably the closest you’ve ever been, standing face to face like this, and the nearness of him is a little dizzying. “Back up. You don’t have to go anywhere. Just talk to me.” He lightly guides you over to your bed, taking a seat next to you. “Why do you think I’d want you to leave?” 

“Because I'm a gross little gremlin who can’t stop objectifying you?” you answer honestly. 

Chan’s eyes widen before he bursts into laughter. “You know, you’ve said a lot of bonkers things in the months you’ve been living here, but… how does wanting to suck my dick make you a ‘gross little gremlin?’” 

Oh no. You can feel it bubbling up inside you, all the things you’ve felt. All the things you’ve said. Oh, you’re going to tell him, aren’t you? 

“It’s not just sucking your dick.” Grabbing your phone, you open your chat with Minho again, and begin to read. “‘I need Chan to destroy me. Fully. Like I’m a piece of wood and he’s a lumberjack. Just split me in half. With his hands or his dick, I’m not picky.’” Your entire body radiates with humiliation. You’re a tiny sun made of molecules of mortification, on the verge of going supernova. “Um. That’s one example. And there’s more. A lot more.” 

And then you hand him your phone, looking away as he starts to scroll. 

You stare at the wall, not wanting to see the expression on his face. Until the quiet gets to you, and you give in, peering at him, expecting to find him frozen again, or worse, looking sickened by your words. 

Instead you find him smiling. And then he starts to giggle. 

“‘I’m going feral,” he reads. “‘He’s wearing that beanie again. I- ’” His laughing gets louder as he struggles to finish the thought. “‘I want him to wear me instead.’” He glances up at you, eyes glimmering with way too much amusement. “What does that even mean?!”

You groan, yanking your shirt up to cover your face. “Chan, stop!” He merely laughs harder. How can he be enjoying this? You’ve never known him to be cruel. “I get it, I’m awful, you don’t have to laugh!”

But he keeps chuckling, and then you feel his hands on your hips. Like a bewildered turtle, you poke your head out of your shirt, and he just smiles. 

“C’mere.” He keeps tugging at you until you scoot closer, swinging your legs over his lap, and pulls you in for a hug. 

It’s better than you ever imagined. His strong arms lock around your waist, keeping you in place as his chest continues to rumble with his apparently endless mirth. Tentatively, you let your hands rest on his broad shoulders, afraid that if you cling too tightly, he’ll let go. 

Chan leans back to grin at you. “You’re so fucking cute.” 

You’re so fucking confused. “I am?” 

“Yeah.” His fingers rub light circles into your lower back. The sensation is somehow both soothing and invigorating, sending sparks directly to the heat already simmering in your gut. “Just adorable.” 

You’re not adorable, you’re a dirty little freak whose mind is constantly churning out trash, but if that’s what he wants to believe, you’ll take it.  

“You’re not disturbed by all the things I’ve said?” 

“Disturbed? Nah. I’m used to the crazy shit you say.” He’s got a point. You do say a lot of crazy shit. Just not usually about him to him. “Besides, d’you know how long I’ve been waiting for you to say something?” 

“About your dick??”

Chan tosses his head back, jostling you with his laughter. “No, you maniac, just something in general! Something to tell me that you like me.” When he meets your gaze again, you’re met with that Look™, and this time those sparks head straight for your cunt. “That you want me. Because…” 

He trails off, hands gripping your sides, shifting you. Until you feel it. Poking directly into your thigh. 

“Oh!”

“Yeah. Oh.” Chan licks his lips. When did his eyes get so dark? “Because I want you too, you absolute fruit loop. Took me a minute to get my bearings, wasn’t expecting you to confess it in a text like that, or with those exact words, but…” He smirks. “I’m good now.” 

His thumb traces your jawline before he cups your chin. The gentle touch sends shivers rippling through you. His eyes drop to your lips. 

“You good?” 

Funnily enough, somehow, you are. 

“Yeah. I’m good,” you whisper, tipping forward to close the space between you. 

Amazingly, despite the unyielding need to just yeet yourself onto him, you manage to hold back, simply leaning in to the kiss instead. Those plush lips that you’ve raved about feel unbelievable as they caress yours. So soft and tender, like the warmth spreading through you as he tightens his hold. Then he sucks your bottom lip into his mouth, and you moan, loud and wanton, unable to control the sound, and he drops his hands to your hips again, gripping insistently. 

“C’mere,” he commands again, voice husky as his fingers hook into your sweats. “Come closer.” He exhales heavily. “Please.” 

Please? He has no idea how little he needs to beg right now. As if you’re not dying to get as close as you can! In the blink of an eye, you throw your leg over his, straddling him. His hands wrap around you again, like he can’t stand not having them on you for a second. You understand the feeling. 

You’re bolder now with your kisses, nipping and licking eagerly. A particularly sharp bite on his pouty lip makes him gasp in surprise, and you press your tongue into his mouth, eyes fluttering shut in sheer ecstasy when he sucks in response. The incessant throbbing of your clit is slightly relieved when Chan’s hips buck upwards, pushing his erection against you more firmly. He swallows your whines, breathes them back out in the form of his own groans.

The need for air eventually overwhelms you after a few minutes, and you begrudgingly tear yourself away from his face. 

“Aren’t you going to be late?” you pant, marveling at how red and swollen Chan’s lips are from kissing. The urge to dive back in before you’ve gotten enough oxygen into your system to keep from passing out is strong. “To meet the guys?”

“You really think I’m gonna leave now?” Chan huffs a laugh as he gazes at you from beneath lowered eyelids, looking as dazed as you feel, and you realize, shit, Minho’s right, you are a vampire, and you’re about to eat this man alive. “Fuck no. Besides, what kind of terrible roommate would I be if I left you at death’s door?” 

“If you - what?” 

More high-pitched giggles fill the room. How can he be so cute while actively grinding his cock against you like this? “Your disease. Remember? Ineedadickitis.” 

“I need to suck a dick,” you correct him.

“Oh, do you? Well, go on then.” He cracks up completely, bouncing you with the force of his laughter as you sit there dumbly for half a second before snapping to. 

“You’re so stupid, oh my god!” With a howl, you push him away. He goes easily, until he’s lying on his back on your bed, still cackling while he swats away your fake punches. “I hate you.” 

“No, you don’t.” His fingers lock around your wrists and with a gentle jerk you’re lying on top of him, your arms pinned between you. Before you can try to pretend that he’s wrong, try to mount yet another one of your dumb arguments, despite knowing full well that he's right, he kisses you again. 

As soon as he releases your hands, you tangle them in his hair. His hands trace down your back to grab the swell of your ass, crushing you flat against him, chest to chest. He suddenly breaks off the kiss.

“Are you not wearing a bra?” 

You shake your head and he groans, sitting up, taking you with him. His fingers curl in the hem of your top, twisting it upwards.

“Shirt off. Now.” His voice drops an octave and you shudder, quickly obeying his order. Then you grip his tank top.

“You too.” 

He reaches behind his head to peel the fabric off, tossing it on the floor. Then he lays back, propping himself up on his elbows as you openly gawk at his stomach. 

“Fuck.” He’s transfixed by your chest. 

“Jesus.” You’re mesmerized. From this close, you can see a faint trail of fine hair that runs down, cutting through the carved lines of his abs, like an arrow pointing to your desired destination. “Unreal.” 

“You can touch, if you’d like,” Chan grins up at you, obviously enjoying your reaction. 

You roll your eyes but do anyway, dragging your fingertips over his abs. His stomach twitches beneath your touch. Before you can get too far, he wiggles his hips, playfully jostling you out of your concentration.

“Can I touch, too?” 

“Jesus, yes, of course!” Grabbing his hands, you place one on each breast. “Touch me already!” 

He doesn’t waste any time, rolling your nipples between his fingers, waking the buds. You arch into him, his abs forgotten as he leans forward to take your left breast in his mouth. 

“Shit, Channie,” you whimper, combing his hair out of his face so you can watch him suckle away. He hums into you, swirling his tongue over your nipple, around and around, before dragging his tongue across to the other breast. 

“You like that, baby?” he asks, covering your chest with kisses. 

Baby? Did he really just call you baby? Is this really happening, or did you slip into one of your daydreams again? 

Nope, the hard dick rolling into the apex of your thighs as you grind down on him feels pretty real. You can’t help but moan, wondering what he looks like under those tight jeans. Is he as thick as you imagine? 

Wait, why are you still trying to imagine anything? He’s literally underneath you right now.

Your hand splays on his torso as you guide him onto his back again. Slowly, you lower yourself over him, and drag your mouth down his neck. Clearly, you’d interrupted his going out routine earlier, because he’s not wearing his normal cologne right now. Instead, the heady scent you inhale as you stick your nose into the hollow of his clavicles is pure Chan, musky and comforting. 

“Ah, that tickles!” he hisses. 

“Sorry.” You press a heavy kiss to his collarbone. “Is that better?” He nods, right before you sink your teeth in.

“Nnngh!” He lets out a throaty groan as you happily suck a love bite into his delicate skin. God, the noises this man makes! You want to record them and play them on a loop. 

You slip further down, dragging your fingernails over one of Chan’s nipples, watching his face for his reaction. A tiny “oh!” escapes him, and you repeat the motion, grinning when his back lifts off the bed. Sensitive. This is going to be fun. 

Chan raises his head when you start to kiss his abs, taking the time to lick along the ridges as you go, the salty tang of his sweat lingering on your lips. When your hands play with the skin above his waistband, he clears his throat. “You know, you don’t have to do this, just because of that text.” 

“Are you kidding me?” You pause with your fingers on the button of his fly. “You want me to stop now?” 

“I just don’t want you to think I expect anything.” Although his voice is a little shaky, like he’s trying to calm himself down, you hear the sincerity in his words. The sweetness. That warmth inside you roars into a flame. 

“Channie. I want this. Do you want this?” 

He nods. “Yeah.”

“Thank god,” you sigh, unzipping his fly.  He helps you peel off his tight jeans and you make quick work of his silk boxers beneath. Nudging his legs apart, you kneel between them 

For a moment just you stare at the sight in front of you. You were right. He’s thick. Maybe a little longer than most of the dicks you’ve been happy to be acquainted with, maybe not, but definitely thicker. 

You want to sit on him so bad. But first you want to please him, want to taste him. So much want. 

While you’re dicknotized, Chan stuffs your pillows under his head so he can have a better angle. You glance at his face and find him biting his lip, eyes looking a little desperate. He doesn’t say anything, just watches you. 

Might as well put him out of his misery. With a lick of your palm, you wrap your hand around him, and pump a few shallow strokes. He grunts at the sudden slickness, abdomen jumping slightly. 

“Ah, baby, just like that,” he says, eyes closing when you roll your thumb over the tip a few times. “Shit.” 

Your tongue darts out to follow, dipping around the head and back over, before you take it into your mouth. Just the tip, bobbing off, then a little more, then again. Each time you sink lower, he sighs. 

“Fuck, that feels so good. Keep going, take it all in.” 

Oh god, is he a talker? You’re already impossibly wet. You can’t possibly handle getting any more aroused. 

While your mouth is occupied, you lift your leg so you’re straddling one of Chan’s, resting a palm on his big thigh. You have obsessed over his thighs since the day you moved in. You refer to them as “the thunder from down under” in your texts to Minho. And here they are now, so strong and sturdy beneath you. Wild. 

Chan hisses when you deepthroat him, brushing your nose against his pelvis. Even though you pride yourself on your dick-sucking skills, you can’t help but choke slightly. More saliva floods into your mouth, and you swallow around him. 

“Oh, shit!” His hips rise up a little. You use both hands, one trying to hold him down by his hip while the other strokes in tandem with your mouth. There’s drool everywhere, and the sounds the wetness makes sounds lewd even for porn. “Baby, this mouth of yours! Feels better than I ever imagined.”

Air rushes into your lungs as you pull off, replacing your mouth with your other hand. “You thought about this?” He fantasized about you, too?

“Oh fuck yeah,” he growls. “All the time. Thought those pretty lips would look so good choking on me, and I was right.” He thrusts a little, rocking his dick up into your slippery grip. “Used to dream about fucking it.”

You moan so brokenly, he looks at you in concern. 

“Please,” you lick his darkened head almost frantically, “do it.” 

Chan studies you for a moment, brows knitting together, before he pushes your head down. 

“That’s it, go down for me,” he directs you, and you listen. “Just stay there. Let me do the work now.” 

He starts slowly, tilting his pelvis a little, fucking up into your waiting mouth. Then he cants his hips a little faster. His breathing gets heavier the harder he thrusts. Once he finds a steady rhythm, he lays his hand on the back of your head keeping you exactly where he wants you. 

You squirm restlessly as Chan fucks your throat. Having your roommate use your mouth as a sex toy is incredibly hot. Finally, you slide your hand into your sweats to give yourself some relief. Your clit is engorged, practically beating like a heart between your fingers. You let out a pleased moan, vibrating down Chan’s cock. 

“Do that again, baby.” 

You’re not denying this man anything. Again and again, you make him curse as your hums resonate across his sensitive skin. He trembles a little, and it’s intoxicating to think that you might be breaking down this big, strong roommate of yours, reducing him to a quivering mess.

At the very least, it’s something to aim for. 

Chan praises you again. “God damn it, that’s good. Gonna make me cum with that pretty mouth.” 

You suck and swallow and moan and rub yourself, feeling Chan’s thigh flex beneath you, and it hits you what he said, that you’re about to get Chan off, you, so you reach out, raking your hand up the inside of his thigh until you find his balls, squeezing gently.

“I’m gonna cum, shit, ’m gonna cum,” he moans, words slurring together. “Where, baby?” 

You stop touching yourself so you can grip the hand of his that rests on your head. He gets the point, pace not slowing, and with a few more powerful pumps, and some stuttered exhalations, he fills your mouth. You take it all, swallowing noisily and gasping for breath once he pulls out. 

“Fuckin’ hell.” 

He laughs as he says it. Your shoulders shake as you half-laugh, half-wheeze, slumping over on Chan’s thigh.

“Is that a compliment?”

“Fuck yeah,” he grins. “And I’m guessing from the sounds you were making, you enjoyed that as well? Just maybe not quite as much as me?”

You shrug. “I got what I wanted.”  

“Yeah, okay, maybe, but I bet you’d like more, hmm?” Without waiting for a response, he swiftly flips you onto your back. Just hauls you right over like you’re made of feathers. A rash of ridiculously giddy giggles burst past your lips, but they die away when he crawls up your body, the power of his gaze pinning you in place, and drops hungry lips onto yours.

Immediately, you surge up into him, pressing as close as you can. Both of you are glistening with sweat, his hair sticking to his face and yours as he licks into your mouth, hot and wet. You’re drowning in him. It’s everything you ever wanted. How the fuck can you possibly want more? But you do, and this feeling makes itself known as you start to whimper needily.

Chan’s hand quickly locates your breast, tenderly cupping your flesh. “Have I told you how fucking gorgeous you are? So pretty.”

You preen at his words, humming contentedly. Fuck. Do you have a praise kink, or is it just that Chan’s the one saying these words that is getting you more worked up? You roll your hips, seeking friction, and Chan’s hand slides downward until he reaches where you need him.

“Oh, baby, so wet,” he says, voice hushed, almost reverent. “Just dying to be touched, yeah? Let me help you.”

With sure movements, lithe fingers stroke along your lips, opening you up. Fingertips squeeze your clit, playing with the aching pearl, causing you to squeal, and you could die, having made such a sound, except you’ve clearly already died and gone to heaven.

Even as his hand rubs, his lips never leave yours. You thrash in his grip when he slides a finger inside you, finding your g-spot with surprising quickness and pressing the fuck out of it, and he still chases your mouth, covering your chin in kisses. Your legs kick out as he alternates between fondling your clit and stroking your walls, until he suddenly stops, pulling his fingers out so he can rid you of your sweats. 

“You still with me?” he asks, kneeling between your legs, and you wonder if you look as wrecked as you feel, sucking in air like a fish. You must be a mess, if your appearance matches how you feel. But you’re also excruciatingly aroused and frustrated, so close to coming that you’re ready to blow.

“Yes. I’m here, I’m good.” 

“Good.” The Look™️ is back. He grabs your legs and bends them, pushing your thighs into your torso. “Here. Be a good girl and hold these.”

Yes, daddy. You bite your tongue to keep from screaming the words, and grasp your legs behind your knees, pulling them to the side as much as you can, opening you up wide.

“Yes, Channie.”

He smiles at that, eyes so dark you can almost see yourself. “So good for me. Hold tight, baby.” 

He sticks out his tongue, eyebrows cocking as he dives down, tracing your folds lightly before flattening the pink muscle and dragging it heavily upwards. You keen as his hot mouth suctions onto your clit. He rolls your clit around with his tongue before flicking it in a quick motion, over and over. 

“Jesus!” You’re a live wire, muscles jolting and twitching. As he continues working over the tiny bundle of nerves, his fingers slip inside you again, two this time, scissoring you apart, making room for his tongue. 

You gasp as he plunges inside, tracing your inner walls. He’s so loud, the noises his mouth makes as he sucks and laps, and messy, too, slick dripping from his chin when he lifts his face, making sure you’re watching him. Of fucking course you’re watching him. There’s literally nothing else in the world you’d rather be looking at right now than Bang Chan, the hottest man in the galaxy, devouring your pussy like it’s his last meal. 

“Tastes so good,” he rasps, turning his face to press sloppy kisses to your inner thigh. “Think you can hold out a little longer? Let me enjoy, yeah?” 

At this point, you’re a fucking tinderbox, one spark and you’ll explode, but sure, why not let the man enjoy himself a little more? 

“O-okay,” you stutter weakly. “I’ll… try.” You bite your lip. “But maybe…” 

Chan brushes his lips over your slit. With a shaky hand, you let your left leg go so you can reach out, brushing some damp locks off his forehead, and he looks at you. 

“Maybe a little slower?” you ask. 

He smiles, nodding a little. “Got ya.” 

Instead of pulling your hand back, you thread your fingers into his hair, and he hums, burying his face again. Only now, his tongue rolls slowly over your cunt, languidly, each pass taking longer and longer. He still keeps the pressure up, makes sure he’s pushing just as firmly against your sensitive folds, still fucks his tongue into you just as deeply as he was before, but now his movements aren’t so frenzied. They feel purposeful, like he’s intent on savoring the moment. 

And you realize you should, too. So you barely blink as you observe everything he does - every kiss, every groan, every time his eyes close. You try to commit it all to memory, so you can relive this moment over and over again. In case this is it.

Chan keeps humming, not so much a melody as just wordless sounds, getting louder when your thighs start to squeeze a little. Your hand grips the roots of his hair, not so much guiding him as hanging on. Until he takes your clit in his mouth again, and you cry out, holding him in place. 

“Right there, Channie, please!” Your voice breaks as you beg him not to stop. He doesn’t let up, not even when you release your death grip on your right leg, letting it fall over his shoulder like the other one. You dig your fingers into the blanket beneath you, fisting the material. “Fuck, just like that!” 

Your hips rise off the bed as you start to hump his face, grinding harder and harder. Chan slides his fingers back into your already clenching hole and finds your g-spot again. You wail helplessly, mind already going, body not far behind, as your muscles start to contract, everything tightening - 

“Fuuuuck!” 

With a loud groan, you come all over Chan’s face. He keeps tonguing your clit through your orgasm, but has to use his hands to hold your thighs open so he doesn’t asphyxiate. You tug at his hair, riding out the waves of bliss on his mouth. 

When you finally relinquish your grasp on his head, he stops. He slides your legs from his arms, then sits back on his heels to examine his handiwork.

You’re a limp noodle. No bones. No muscles. Couldn’t move if you tried. Your climax completely wiped you out, leaving nothing behind. But you’re a very happy noodle, practically purring as you smile at the ceiling. 

Chan, on the other hand. Chan appears to be ready for the next round. A point made obvious by the massive erection he’s again sporting. You blink at him a few times. 

“I’m going to need a minute.”

He laughs, draping himself over you, arm slung over your stomach, head on your shoulder. “Nah mate, you’re done.” 

A rather petulant whine bubbles up from deep within you. “Nooo, I’m good, I’m good!” 

You try to reach for his dick, but he catches your hand, lacing his fingers through yours. Which is a surprisingly sweet move, but not what you want right now. It’s not that you don’t want to cuddle with him - if he asked, you’d wrap yourself like a blanket around him and snuggle him for hours.

It’s that you’re not ready for this moment to be over. 

“Relax,” he laughs. “Plenty of time for that later. Just rest for a bit.” 

“Later?" There’s gonna be a later?

Chan kisses your neck lightly. “Yeah, later. Not done with you yet, baby.” 

You sigh, bringing a hand up to stroke his back. Okay. Maybe a little nap is fine. If there’s going to be a later. 

Fuck, you can’t wait to text Minho. 

Masterlist 💜 Find me on AO3 💜 

© 2023 by minisugakoobies. Crossposted to AO3. Please do not copy or repost.

I don't feel right tagging my usual tl since that was for my BTS writing, so I'm just gonna tag some moots that I think might like this:

@moni-logues @yoongimingyu @borahae-k @nabiolive @jikooknoona @sowoozoo-7 @eoieopda @here4btsfics @candlewaxandp0lar0ids @ballelino @starlostjimin @augustbutwinter @blueversaillesdreams @hobivore @hobi-gif @seokjinger-ale @hannahbee12719 feel free to tell me if I'm way off base, no pressure to actually read! 💕

[mynameismckenziemae]

All of Me

Part 16

(previous part here, next part here)

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x You

Summary: You and Jake start your last full day together right before Drew returns from camp. An unexpected visitor lifts the final weight from your shoulders.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI! Smut, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), overstimulation, unprotected p in v.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

The next morning you wake up to your phone ringing; an incoming FaceTime from Drew.

“Hey, Jake?” you mumble, reaching behind you to warn him but he’s not there, though the bed is still warm.

You yawn as you answer. “Hey, bud.”

“Hi Mom,” his cute, smiling face greets you, “are you still in bed?”

“Yeah, I didn’t sleep that great last night,” you lie. You had actually slept great.

“Oh,” he says, “were you having nightmares again?”

“No,” you shake your head, sad that he’s woken up to your cries in the past, “I actually haven’t had a nightmare in a while.”

Not since that night you woke Jake and he comforted you.

“That’s good! Hey, is Jake there? Can I say hi?” He asks, looking behind you.

“No,” you laugh, “why would he be over at…” you squint at the time in the corner of the screen, “8:12 in the morning?”

“Don’t boyfriends and girlfriends have sleepovers? He slept over the night before camp,” he replies, “and that was before you guys were boyfriend and girlfriend.”

Busted.

“Uh, well…,” you scramble for an age-appropriate answer, “sometimes? Like when you’re an adult and you’ve been dating a long time.”

“Oh,” he replies, considering your words before shrugging. “Okay.”

“How’s camp?” You ask, changing the subject quickly as you hear the front door open.

“Good! It’s so much fun, Mom. Can I come back next year? I know how to use a bow and arrow now! Oh, and guess what? I jumped off the diving board! And you know how I hate carrots? Well, last night, one of the counselors dared me to try one and I actually liked it! Can you cook carrots the way they do here? I think they…” he rambles, hardly taking a breath as you walk down the stairs and into the kitchen. “Look, there’s Jake! Hey Jake!”

“Drew! Hey!” Jake lights up like a kid on Christmas when he hears your son’s voice. He sets down the food he picked up to rest his chin on your shoulder and wrap his arms around your waist. “I’ve missed you, man. How’s camp?”

Your eyes can’t seem to look away from the right lower corner of your screen; Jake’s smile is so sweet and genuine as Drew responds that it brings tears to your eyes. You turn your head to kiss his cheek as the remainder of the wall around your heart comes crumbling down. Jake’s smile widens as if he could feel it too.

“Mom!” Drew giggles, covering his eyes, “gross!”

“Sorry,” you laugh as your face heats, “what were you saying? There’s a huge spider in the showers?”

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

Drew shows off the cabin and his sleeping quarters next. You ‘ooh’ and ‘ahh’ when appropriate but can’t help but be distracted by Jake’s thumb mindlessly brushing the skin under your breast as he listens too.

Drew says goodbye a few minutes later and you turn to him for a real kiss as the screen goes dark.

He breaks it to guide his old t-shirt over your head before walking you back to the island. Your squeal as he lifts you turns into a gasp when your bare behind meets the cold granite countertop.

He steps between your legs, forcing them apart, finding your lips again, and licking into your mouth. His hands slide up your thighs, over your stomach to flick the already-sensitive peaks of your nipples.

“Just like that,” you sigh, running your hands through his hair when he ducks his head, giving your breasts some attention with his mouth too.

He switches between rough sucks, soft licks, and light nips with his teeth, quickly working you into a tizzy. His position between your drenched thighs doesn’t allow you to get any friction.

“More,” you plead, pulling him off your breasts as you reach your breaking point to look him in the eye. “Please baby,” you murmur, pressing your mouth to his before nipping his lower lip, “touch me?”

“Alright,” he agrees, pulling you to the edge of the counter before sinking to his knees, “since you asked so nicely.”

He sucks a bruise into your thigh, kissing it better and placing it over his shoulder before doing the same to the other.

Your back arches and your heels dig into his back when he wastes no more time and begins to devour you, “Yes,” you sigh, “like that! You’re so…so-fuck!”

He hums against your clit at your inability to find words and the vibration sends a shiver through your body. It just spurs him on more and he grips your thighs to pull you impossibly closer, nudging your clit with his nose as his tongue licks inside you.

“You taste so fucking good,” he groans before working his tongue faster, “come on, soak my face.”

Your hands in his hair tug and you cry out as you do just that, grinding against his eager mouth to prolong the pleasure coursing through you.

“Need you inside me,” you beg before you even come down.

“Okay,” he smiles, sliding his hand under your thigh and pushing two fingers inside you, “like this?”

“No,” you whine, but then he curls them against your g-spot. “Wait-okay, yeah.”

He chuckles and leans in again to flick his tongue against your clit, setting you off again and then again before you can catch your breath.

“Jake!” You cry as he continues, your hands tighten in his hair; unsure whether to push him away or keep him there.

He doesn’t stop, pulling orgasm after orgasm out of you making you soon feel like a raw, exposed nerve. You don’t realize you’re holding your breath until the edges of your vision darken.

“Breathe,” Jake reminds you as he pushes to his feet. He guides your ankles up to his shoulders and grips your shoulders to thrust inside your still-clenching pussy. “Oh fuckkkk.”

You mewl as he fucks you with deep, bruising thrusts. He releases his hold on one of your shoulders to trail his hand down, meanly pinching each nipple making your eyes roll back in your head.

“You like that,” he observes, pinching again, “you’re squeezin’ me so tight.”

You open your mouth to agree but the words get lost on your tongue when he changes the angle of his hips and instead, you nod dumbly in agreement.

He chuckles, finally sliding his hand lower; the first brush of his fingertips over your clit sets you off again.

Jake’s hips stutter and his eyes clench shut as he fights the urge to not follow you over the edge as your pussy contracts rhythmically around him, but he doesn’t stop.

“Gimme another,” he pants, voice low and seductive but you can hear the desperation under the surface. He opens his eyes and turns his head to kiss your ankle, “one more, sweetheart.”

His green gaze meets yours and you feel like time stops as something passes between you two.

“Jake,” you start, wanting him to know how you feel, “I-oh God,” you wail as the pleasure consumes you once more.

“Reese! Fuck,” he chokes, hips slowing to a stop as he fills you up.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

I love you.

It’s scary and it’s beautiful and it’s exciting and the very first thought that crosses your mind when you come back to your body. Jake has brought you to the bathroom and is humming as he gently cleans between your thighs.

I love you.

“I’ve gotta change my oil at some point, but I was thinking I could pick some stuff up while I’m out so I could grill this afternoon? Invite Bradshaw?” He tilts your chin to look at him when you don’t answer, “Reese?”

I love you.

“Yeah,” you smile, “that sounds good.”

I love you.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

There’s a knock at the door a few minutes after he leaves.

“Jake, how many times do I have to tell you? You don’t have to-“ your laughter dies in your throat as you open the door, “-knock. Oh, hey Tina.”

Your face heats as she grins knowingly.

“You know you don’t have to knock either,” you say as you hug her. The little tension left in your body leaves when you do. She’s the mom you never had and a hug from her is just what you need right now.

“I do know, but I figure I better start since you’ve got a new man in your life,” the smile is evident in her voice as she squeezes you before letting go, “especially since Drew’s gone.”

“Damn it Bradley,” you roll your eyes, padding into the kitchen.

“He actually didn’t say anything…until I asked. I’ve been noticing the truck in your driveway and, well, you know how nosey I am,” she sighs, pulling out two coffee cups before putting a pot on.

You smile as you sit at the island that Jake just rearranged your guts at. “I have been meaning to tell you, it’s just…”

I don’t want to lose you too. Drew needs you. I need you.

“I know honey,” she says, voice watery as she turns. She’s always been able to read your mind. “I know. We’re not going anywhere though. I don’t think he is either. Bradley said that boy is head over heels. He also has nothing but good things to say about him…so does Iceman and Mav and Penny…”

“Oh Tina, I love you,” you laugh as you shake your head.

“Love you too,” she winks before pouring coffee into your cups and getting the creamer from the fridge. “Tell me about him.”

“Sounds like you should be telling me,” you grin at her sheepish look. “Hey,” you reach over to squeeze her hand, “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For avoiding you,” you admit, “well…not exactly ‘avoiding’ you, but I have been avoiding telling you.”

“It’s okay,” she replies softly, “I understand. This is new, and a little scary to all of us.”

You nod. It is scary. But also exciting.

“Now. Tell me everything,” she smiles as she takes a sip.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

So you do, leaving out the R-rated parts of course.

“…and I think I might be in love with him, Tina,” you whisper, afraid to look at her. “That’s crazy, right? We’ve only known each other for like 2 months.”

“You’re asking the wrong person,” she winks, “Ron proposed after 6 weeks.”

“True,” you smile, “I just…Drew. I’m scared of seeing Drew get hurt.”

“From everything I’ve heard so far, that isn’t going to happen,” she answers.

“But what if it doesn’t work? And we break up? Drew has already lost so much…” you reply.

“Then you’ll get through it together, just like you’ve gotten through everything else in life,” she answers, coming around the island to give you another hug.

“Okay,” you whisper, feeling the final weight from your shoulders lift, “okay.”

“Hey sweetheart,” Jake calls as he opens the front door and heads to the kitchen, “Bradshaw will be here around 3. I was wondering if you’d want to invite Ron and…Tina,” he smiles charmingly as he spots her, setting down the groceries, “Hi, nice to see you again.”

“Nice to see you too, and we’d love to come,” she answers with a smile.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

A/N: big feelings in this chapter. Also some oral and p in v on the kitchen island (inspired by that one scene in Hit Man). What did ya think?

Also I think I’ve got at least one more chapter…maybe two before I start tandem writing A Little But Stronger. Can’t wait to show you guys that one too!

As always, any interaction is appreciated but I love hearing what you think in the comments/reblogs!

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[starshapedb0x]

𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐑 ✧˚ · .

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: you go on vacation with your good friend Audrey, your other friend Arthur and your bestest of friends, Oscar. There’s things that can’t be left unsaid.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ (read at your own discretion), it’s very little though, fingering (f receiving), innocent kink, mostly fluff really. NOT PROOFREAD (do not hold it against me pls)

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Oscar Piastri x best friend!reader

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 2k+

𝐀/𝐍: I honestly forced myself to write this one so not at all the best, but enjoy some summer visuals 🪽

You look at your half-packed bag as you fold the last one of the bikinis. You stare up at your best friend, Audrey, she’s lied down on your bed scrolling through her phone. Her bags packed to go, they were resting in front of the door, you’d agreed she’d help you pack so you both could finally go on vacation after a long college semester plus the exams to complete in the end.

Being in Portugal to study was a new experience for you, you’d travelled out of your country before but staying a whole year away from your family and home was different. It was hard, of course, staying away from everything you know for too long is always hard; but you’ve made so many friends, visited so many places, grown so much in this place that it almost feels like home. And overall, college was going well for you. Of course you’d talked about it with all your friends, specifically your one and only Oscar Piastri.

You’d known each other since you were still in nappies, your mothers were best friends and they insisted on often seeing each other regardless of where they were. As a consequence, their kids became friends, staying with each other throughout every difficulty that eventually showed up such as the distance between each other. You’d always had a thing for him, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to tell him, partly because you knew he didn’t like you and partly because it was so hard to keep the friendship with the little time you were together, imagine a relationship.

As so, you convinced Audrey, Oscar and one of his friends to all go to Audrey’s house in Melides, she came from a Portuguese background, her roots were here, therefore she had family and houses, including the cosy beach house located in the south of the country. Five minutes away from the beach and with a considerably sized swimming pool, there was really nowhere else where you’d rather spend summer with your friends.

“Are you done packing? Their plane already landed we gotta hurry.” She asked, leisurely sitting up on your bed, turning off her phone and placing it next to her. “You’ll finally be able to see your beloved Oscar..” She grinned slyly at you.

“Don’t say it like that,” you replied timidly “I need you to help me close this bag.”

——————————————————

And a few hours later, that so familiar smell of summer invaded your whole being. The wind hitting your face as you let your arm slide with it, back. The four of you in that car with all the windows open, You, Audrey, Oscar and Arthur. Having picked them up from the airport, Audrey was driving, being guided by her phone which loudly indicating the directions over the music you and Oscar had chosen, and being guided by Arthur who contradicted the phone and yelled both in English and French. You were sat right next to Audrey, almost fully outside the window, looking at your final destination; Oscar right behind you, eyes focused on the way your hair flowed with the wild wind and on the wide smile you kept painted on your face. Arthur behind Audrey who now told him with all her teeth to shut up.

As the car finally parked, you opened the door and ran outside to pick up your bags and finally settle in.

To be honest, the first day wasn’t that big. You guys had arrived late and all the guys wanted to do was rest after the long flight they had gone through to be here, so everyone just had dinner, something you all quickly whipped up from remainders, and headed to sleep.

The next day, everyone was packed and excited to get to the beach. You could already feel the sand in your feet and the sun hitting your skin, along with the salty water covering your body. It was a quick walk to the beach where you all went chatting.. specially you and Oscar. Both of you stayed behind and caught up with the few things you hadn’t through texting.

“You know, I’m pretty stoked to be here for summer break.” Oscar said promptly. “I missed you.”

“I’m stoked you’re here too! We haven’t seen each other in so long.” You looked at him. Oh god, that face you’ve liked for so long, the past year without him was torture. “I misse—“

You couldn’t finish your sentence, in a millisecond, Oscar had dropped his stuff and picked you up bridal style, running into the sea quickly. You screamed in surprise, your arms flying around his neck tightly. Soon both of you were fully clothed thrown into the sea, playfully hitting and throwing water at each other. Your white flowy dress sticking onto your body, revealing the tiny bikini you had underneath. At the sight, Oscar stopped for a second. There was no way he could keep his eyes off you the rest of the trip.

The day went as usual, everyone tanned a fair amount — except for Oscar who refused to let you put sunscreen on his back. Of course, his back is fully sunburnt, a shocking red painted on it.

“Oscar, please, let me put After-sun on it.” You insisted.

“Fine, okay.” He finally succumbed to your wishes, figuring it’d be the best option.

Both of you went to the bathroom, as Audrey and Arthur made dinner, you could only hope anything good would come out of it..

You held the bottle of After-Sun spreading a generous amount on your hand, warning it up before placing your hands on your best friend’s back.

“OW!” He winced, arching his back, flexing it. You pursed your lips and felt your face getting warmer.. you knew he had to work out more in F1 but. Wow.

“Come on, don’t be a baby.” You smiled and let out a quiet chuckle. Running your hands along his back to spread the product.

“I’m not a baby, you’re just a little rough.” He turned around, holding your wrists and looking down at you. You looked up at him. The way he towered over you, pressing his body closer to yours and leaning his face down. “Be gentler, yeah?”

You nodded, looking down at his dangerously close lips, then back into his eyes. His breathing hitting your face, your foreheads and noses pressing against each other, Oscar looks down at your lips and—

“Hey guys! Dinner is ready. Everything good in here?” Arthur had slammed the door open, and with the noise, both of you jumped away from each other. Your face went bright red while wiping your hands off the After-Sun to a nearby towel. Oscar scratched the back of his neck, looking around, face heating up.

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll be right there.” And so you did.

After that, you got frustrated. The next days, Oscar did not say a word to you. Well, you didn’t say anything to him either but — on your fourth day of beach together and he had no intention of talking to you about what happened in the bathroom? And this kept you awake at night. You were tossing and turning wondering if you had done something wrong. Should you have kissed him? Maybe he just doesn’t want to be with you. Whatever it was, he had to tell you himself.. even if it was hard to hear, you had to. Living off waiting had always gone wrong for you. You got up from your bed, in your sheer night gown, not bothering to get your slippers on even if the tile floor was cold. You walked out the door and went right into where you knew was the bedroom he was staying in. You looked at it a rethought your decision, but when your brain decided it was better not too, your heart was banging on that door with all the strength it had. In a matter of seconds it was open.

Oscar looked you up and down, and kept his head up to look into your face — your night gown didn’t leave much for the imagination. “Y/N..? Are you okay? Can you not sleep?”

“Why are you avoiding me? Do you not like me? Is it because of what happened in the bathroom? I’m so sorry; I didn’t mean to almost kiss you! I mean I wanted to but if you—“ His lips gently pressed against yours and his arm slid around your waist. You let yourself melt into his touch.

“I’m sorry. I’m in love with you.” He simply said, mouth pressing kisses along your cheek and jawline. Your eyes widened and you looked up at him, he looked really lovesick now that you stared at him properly. You kissed him yourself this time.

He pulled you in to himself and closed the door behind you. You were pushed against the door and his hands slid along your half revealed skin, pulling and tugging on the sheer fabric. His mouth in yours in a way you’d never experienced before. If you were honest, you had no idea what to do.. you tried to keep your arms around him while he made your body feel in places it had never felt before.

“Oscar..” You whined. You had no idea what you were begging for, but he knew. And you knew he knew.

“Y/N, Y/N.. wait hold on. I’m.. uh. We’ll talk tomorrow-“ He figured it was a little to early for all of this, he couldn’t just jump in as much as he wanted to.

“What? No. You made me wait so much.” You looked down, his hard-on visible through the pajama pants. “Is it because of this?” You slid your hand over, palming his full clothed dick.

He looked down at you, mouth open as if he was ready to moan at any given moment. And you looked up at him sweetly, like you had no idea what you were doing, innocent little you. “Y/N, don’t start something you can’t finish.”

He was right, you actually had no idea what to do. Your experience was based purely off the one time you watched porn. “I can finish it.” You said promptly, although not very confident of your skills. Oscar grabbed you by your waist, and you let yourself be guided by him. He pushed you onto his bed and looked down at you. You looked clueless and all he wanted to do was finally make you know how good he could be. How amazing he could make you feel. And wipe that innocence right out of you. He slid his own t-shirt off and slid his hands under your night gown.

“You look so pretty in this.. such an angel.” He whispered, his fingers swiftly reached your breasts where he cupped them and then flicked your nipples between his fingers. Your hand flew to your mouth as you looked down to what he was doing. The way his head lowered, and only so then you realized he was getting on his knees. You sat up, and Oscar leaned his head into the inner side of your thigh, sliding his fingers along the milky skin. Your hand flew straight to his wrist.

“Hm? Can’t finish it after all, princess?” He asked, he wasn’t gonna do anything you didn’t want him to but at this point why ask. You let go from his wrist, and his fingers got closer finally reaching where they were needed the most. He slid his fingers through your fold spreading the wetness you’d pooled right when started kissing you. “All this just for me?” Oscar looked up at you, but you look away, hand covering your mouth, eyes struggling to keep still. Shaking with anticipation, why was he making you wait so much. He clearly wanted to take his time.

His movements were slow and he only lightly grazed your entrance with his digits, your mind started wondering to all the things he could do from here, to all the things you wanted him to do from here.

[prentissluvr]

finding warmth [ too cold pt. two ] — joel & tommy miller

gn!reader , fatherfigures!joel & tommy , ft ellie ! , angst, hurt/comfort , cw : heavy mentions of loss of loved ones , panic attack , maybe disassociation , nightmares , wc : 3.4K , pt. one here !

“there it is. jackson.” it’s four simple words and one single view from a cliffside that manages to take your breath away.

it looks like a paradise in the middle of this hell of a world, looking down upon it from here. the protective walls are high and vast, and the cluster of buildings looks lively, though you can’t even see the people of the town from this vantage point.

you can’t tear your eyes from it, finding yourself truly speechless.

“we’ll be there in no time. it’s even better up close.” you can vaguely hear the amusement in joel’s voice as he likely takes in your astonished expression. nodding, you find it in yourself to bring your gaze back to the man sitting in front you, sending him a grateful smile.

joel isn’t completely right, though, as for you, the remainder of the ride feels somehow like both the “no time” that he promised, but also one of the longest stretches of anticipation that you’ve felt in a long, long time. much like your physical state of hypothermia the day prior, you have become accustomed to an odd state of emotional numbness, where you feel nothing but a deep sense of hopelessness. the pain of loss never left you, but for long months now, it’s manifested in the horridness of nothing. so now, to be feeling so much is an odd sensation. half of you wants to push it away in favor of self-preservation. look where feelings have gotten you. but the other part of you tugs at it, trying to pull the emotions out from where they must have been hiding. part of you yearns for it. the anticipation, both anxious and almost excited. the gratitude. the foreign feeling of a spark of hope.

what joel is completely right about is the fact that this place is far better up close. the border is higher than you imagined, and the liveliness of people in the town once you’re let in is immediately apparent. there’s far more people than you would have thought, parents and children, siblings and even people growing old. it’s overwhelming, to say the least, but it’s wonderful regardless.

as your gaze sweeps through everything, trying to take it all in, you catch tommy’s eye, and he grins at you brightly. you can’t help but return a smile, however hesitant it may be.

as promised, you’re taken to the town doctor right after dropping the horses off at the stable. you do your best not to shy away from him, wanting to stay hidden behind the two brothers who brought you here as you had on the walk over. but, you don’t have to stay long, as the doctor explains that, with joel and tommy’s help, you’re well on the mend. all he tells you is to continue to stay bundled up and avoid going outside too much.

but that brings you to your next issue. where do you stay to avoid the cold… to settle down? it seems most people aren’t alone here, and you can’t imagine it's easy for anyone to have an unknown teenager crashing in one’s home.

tommy’s kind voice quickly pulls you out of your worried thoughts, unintentionally answering your unspoken, anxiety-fueled questions. “we’ll look for a more permanent space for you to stay in, but for now, we thought you could stay in joel’s spare room for now. that sound alright to you?”

“of course,” you confirm, relieved to hear that you’ll be able to stay with someone familiar, at least for now. “thank you,” you mumble slightly as you speak.

“sure thing, kiddo. you should know that i live with another kid around your age. she’s a little,” joel pauses, searching for the right word, “fiesty,” he decides on, “but she’ll show you around town.”

“if either of them get too annoying,” tommy refers to his brother and this girl he lives with, who you’d assume to be his daughter, but he never said anything about that like one normally would, so you let that thought slide, focusing in on tommy’s playful tone, “then you can come find me right across the street. my wife’ll knock some sense into them,” he chuckles. you return a small laugh, grateful for his willingness to joke around in attempts to make you feel more comfortable.

but you can’t bring yourself to open up like him, so you settle on what you hope is an amicable, “alright,” using the single word as an acknowledgement to both joel’s previous statement and tommy’s joke.

by the time you’re settled in joel’s spare room, it’s almost time for dinner, the sun dipping lower and lower by the minute. sitting on the edge of the ricketty twin sized bed, a luxury you haven’t had in who knows how long, you replay your introduction to ellie.

something had felt a little bit odd, almost as if she were the one that felt protective over joel. she wasn’t mean, per se, but she hadn’t felt the most welcoming, as if she were wary of you and what your presence could mean. you couldn’t blame her, though, you agreed one could never be too careful in this world. she did seem to relax when joel told her you’d only be staying with them temporarily. another thing you couldn’t figure out was their relationship. they acted like family, father and daughter, but again, those words were never said. she only called him joel.

that was another thing you easily let slide, though, silently understanding. you knew what it was like for someone who shared none of your blood to be more like family than anyone who technically was. and you knew what it was like to lose them, so you couldn’t blame ellie’s hesitation at joel bringing in some random, shivering kid like yourself who’s clearly relying on him.

you begin to wonder if it would have been better to stay with tommy, but you remind yourself he’s probably busy with his wife and baby. there was another thing that astounded you about this place. he has a baby. and that baby is safe here, has a chance to grow up in a way kids haven’t for more than twenty years. almost normal, or what used to be normal. of course, you’d know nothing about that. your normal, what you know is ellie’s normal, is fear and caution and limitations.

now suddenly, impossibly overwhelmingly, there’s so much more for you. people who have thus far proven good in their intentions, who have cared enough to protect you, help you. there’s safety surrounding you, and in that, an inch of freedom to have things. here, kids go to school, and, according to joel, it’s nothing like fedra school. they have a library, for god’s sake. as you walked past it, tommy told you that it’s really quite small, nothing like what they used to have. but it’s gotta be more than you’ve ever had access to.

it’s amazing. so much so, it’s almost too much. too much to process how much your life has changed in just days, how much easier you thought it would ever to have a sense of hope crawling its way back up your throat. 

there’s a knock on your door, and someone clears their throat from the hallway.

“come in,” you said, hoping there’s nothing on your face that betrays how much you’re thinking about right now.

the door creaks open, just enough for joel to poke his head in. “thought we could go grab some dinner? just realized we didn’t feed you all that well on the way over.”

“sounds great.” you hadn’t realized either, used to the hunger. but at the mention, or rather the promise of food, you can’t help but water at the mouth. 

i’m starving, you realize, and maybe for more than just food.

—

out of everything wonderful and new, your favorite place is by far the mess hall. that’s part of the reason why you’re so delighted when ellie invites you to go to lunch with her. that and the fact that, for the past two weeks, you’ve been juggling with the idea that maybe she hates you.

of course, that’s not fair of you to think, and you know it, especially not as she’s begun to warm up to you the past few days. you feel as though you understand at least a little bit why she hasn’t been as warm to you as tommy and joel have been. but you can’t help yourself in wanting her to like you. she’s similar in age to you, and she seems enjoyable to be around with the way she teases joel about whatever she can and makes him cringe with bad jokes.

so yes, you may feel a little overly excited when she knocks on your door and asks if you want to go grab lunch together. of course, you don’t act out half as much as you feel, feeling consistently better staying quiet and edging on unreadable. but, you still shoot her a small smile as you accept her invitation, even if you feel like she may be saying it just because joel asked her to.

you don’t care though, happily trudging along to the mess hall, excited for both food and the opportunity to make ellie like you just a little bit.

when you sit down, plates full of food, the conversation is a little bit awkward, but it’s there nonetheless. she asks you about how you feel about jackson, and you try not to let on how complicated everything feels in your head.

but it seems she picks up on a hint of all the things you’re not saying, and that seems to make her open up a bit more.

“i know it’s a lot coming here after… yknow, all the shit out there. it’s great, but it’s still strange,” she starts. “might sound crazy, but i still feel out of place here sometimes,” she admits.

you nod, taking in her words, grateful for her assurance. “yeah. it is weird,” you agree.

she mirrors the same shake of your head. “so, uh. if you ever need any help finding your way or anything…” she clears her throat as if she’s unsure of her words, “you can ask me,” her voice quickly returns to the confidence and playfulness it normally holds, “that way you don’t have to rely on crabby old dudes like joel and tommy.”

you let yourself laugh at that. “thank you,” you smile, hoping she can see how much you mean it.

the rest of the meal flows far more easily than you expected, the conversation turning to more casual subjects. she even cracks one of her awful jokes, but you can’t bring yourself to complain about it because for some reason it feels like it means something. not much, but something, like she sees you as someone she can share a part of herself with, even if it’s small. so when she makes the corniest joke you may have ever heard, you just grin and cringe a little. and that makes her laugh, which makes you smile harder.

so maybe that’s why, walking down the streets back home, she feels more like a friend than the stranger you met not too long ago.

that’s when the foreign feeling of contentedness—the one that’s just begun to try and seep into your thawing heart—is ripped away, as if it’s a leech sucking up your once constant caution.

all it takes is the poorly timed yell of a name along with a shrill shriek to take your breath away. this time you’re not in awe of the safety of this place. this time, you’ve been taken back to the most dangerous of your memories.

you freeze in place, so silent that ellie doesn’t even notice that you’re not walking with her for a moment. she stops in her tracks, turning back to you with a confused expression. but by the time she’s back in front of you, asking if you’re okay, her voice is already distant.

you’re trying to explain to yourself what happened. someone yelled that name, but it’s not her. her name, yes, but not her. she’s dead now. and the scream. that came from a playing child, one you’re sure was just too excited by a game of tag. 

but it’s no use, not when you’re already too far gone, with flashes of bloody fighting and echoes of horrified screams battering your senses and detaching you from reality. all you know is that you’re fighting to breathe, and you feel as though you’re drowning right out in the open.

you stumble forward, and you’re vaguely aware of ellie leading you to a pole to lean on. she’s trying to tell you that you’re alright, but your memories drown out anything she says. another blurry figure appears in front of you, and somehow when he calls your name, it cuts through your senses, crystal clear.

“you’re alright,” he says, such assurance filling his voice that it almost convinces you too. then you’re able to think, it’s tommy. “you’re safe here. you’re not there anymore.”

you gasp at his words, reaching out to him with the hand not gripping the pole. immediately, he steps closer, and your hand latches onto his upper arm while his softly holds your elbow. in the back of your mind it feels unnatural for you to fall into his embrace the way that you do, but the part of you that craves comfort takes over in this moment. he’s warm and his shoulders are broad, and it’s as if his presence blocks out everything else. that’s what lets your mind quiet, your breathing even out.

when you part and he wipes gently at your tears for just a quick moment, that’s when embarrassment hits. you feel more than awkward, and a little uncomfortable with this sort of display of vulnerability, and yet a piece of you still embraces the thought of allowing the results of it into your life. you already crave his embrace again, you know you’ll want it when the nightmares come.

but nonetheless, you put your head up high and try to keep your voice firm as if to convince everyone that, yes, you’re alright and you’re no longer weak. in reality, you still feel shaken. it’s been a while since you’ve relived that night like that. it seems that letting go of your numbness brings back everything, including the most unwelcome.

back in your room, cooped up there even as the sun begins to set, you battle with yourself. you don’t want to let go of the things that you’re finding along with the warmth that’s beginning to replace the cold that had settled in your bones. but you don’t want to have anything to lose. when you’re warm, there’s always the chance to lose it, never safe from blizzards or blades.

you know practically that it’s far safer here than anywhere else, that here you have the best chance of holding onto something and having it stay heavy in your hands.

but you ignore it all when ellie knocks on your door, then when joel calls out to you from the hallway, asking for you to come out and have dinner with them. and you fall asleep thinking that it’s best if tommy never hugs you again, if you never share the saddle on a horse with joel another time.

—

and yet, you were right in your prediction; that when the nightmares came, you’d crave to be held in arms that felt like they cared, the very same way you had been months and months ago before you lost it all.

that’s the scariest part, waking up in a cold sweat, your heart beating a million miles an hour, and realizing that no matter what happens, no matter how much you lose and tell yourself you’ll never let anyone caring for you mean anything, you still want to be held. because you’re afraid, you’re bewildered, and you can’t remember where the hell you are. but you know someone outside of that door cares and that’s what pulls you out of the bed and into the hallway, stumbling and out of breath. you’re not even sure who, or why, but the people you loved most just died in your dreams, so you don’t care. maybe it’s them, maybe it’s all just a nightmare. you dare to hope and it seems as though that’s always your fatal mistake.

firm hands on your shoulders make you jolt in surprise, then fear. the hoarse scream that follows startles you too until you realize the sound came from your own mouth. there’s a gruff voice, saying your name softly, hushing you, telling you you’re alright. it’s not them, you realize. and they are dead. they have been.

“joel?” you croak out, half sobbing as he comes into focus. you hadn’t realized before, but your hands cling to fistfuls of his sleeping shirt.

“i’m here, it’s me. you’re alright. everything’s alright, kiddo,” his voice is softer than you’ve ever heard it, but it still retains that firmness that begins to ground you. but you shake your head as he pulls you into his chest, grieving for things that you lost all over again. he sighs like he knows what you mean. you suppose he does though, because it’s hard to meet someone who hasn’t lost something they never thought they could. so instead of lying and saying that it’s fine, he says, “i’m sorry,” and you know that he is, but not in the way that stings and makes you think, you have no idea. the tone of his voice tells you he has every idea, knows it all, lost it all.

and so it feels less pitiful to cry into his arms, even when you know that ellie came out of her room after your scream woke her up. even when your chest still wars at you, yelling to pull away, to run away, as far as you can. that you’re not allowed to have this anymore, all for the same reason as before; you can’t lose nothing. but you know that you hate having nothing, and that there’s something right in front of you, all around you, that’s being offered up like warm food on a silver platter. and when you’re hungry and cold, there’s nothing wrong, no, there is everything right in taking the offer and saying thank you.

so you do.

“thank you,” you whisper into his chest as your tears begin to subside, and in that moment you don’t know that he wishes there was a way to say “of course,” and have you know just how much he means it.

“course,” he says simply, and it makes you sigh into his embrace so he feels a little better about it, because you’ve relaxed in his arms just a bit. even as you’re no longer crying, he lets you stay there, he doesn’t want to take away his warmth without you being ready to part first. so he waits and eyes ellie’s door, knowing she left it slightly open in case you need anything, and knowing she’ll want his reassurance that she’s still his after seeing you in his arms. but the crack in the door still tells him she cares enough about you to let him take care of you first.

so he does.

he rubs your back, and lets the air be silent, quiet just for you. and when you pull away from him, just a little, he takes a small step back and puts a hand on your back to guide you back into your room. he pulls the covers up when you climb in bed and doesn’t say anything he knows you don’t want him to. all he tells you is that he’ll be right back with a cup of water and a snack for you. and when comes back, he just sets it on the bedside table for you, and doesn't push you to eat or drink. when he makes his way back to your door, he stops in the frame and tries to sound like it's normal to tell you to come get him if you need anything, and that there’s no shame if you do. 

he just wants you to know he’s there to help. luckily for you, and luckily for him, you do know, and you try to fall asleep with that weighing on your heart. you want to accept that the weight is far better, far warmer, than nothing.

—

thank you for everyone who asked to be tagged !! i hope you all enjoy part two as much as, if not more than, you did part one !! @taraiel , @lizlil , @your-shifting-gurl, @thetiredtoad0-0, @groggygrogu, @ackermanbitch, @midgetpottermills, @lovelyygirl8, @s0upm1x, @imonmykneessir, @cozyphine [ bold i couldn't tag ! ]

i won't be doing a part three but i likely will do drabbles from this universe later !! <33 thanks for the love on part one <33

[lilyrizzy]

silly little something about max & daniel watching 'how to build a sex room'. day 6 of the 12 days of maxiel advent calendar for @catofthecanals289

"I think this lady thinks she is much more kinky than actually she is."

It's winter break, which means they are in the middle of the rare collection of lazy weeks, that feel both endless and never quite enough. During this time they can be normal people, can spend days getting tanned- or sun burnt, in Max’s case- and evenings lounging on sofas, cuddled close despite Australia's scorching summer, can drink a beer and watch crappy TV.

Like, 'how to build a sex room.'

Max's head lifts from where it was resting on Daniel's chest to give his scathing review of Melanie, the British host who is strangely obsessed with floggers. The rest of his body stays tucked securely underneath Daniel's arm, where it belongs.

"I don't know baby," Daniel says, shrugging only one shoulder so as not to jostle Max around. His fingertips trace patterns across the top of Max’s pale arms, imaginary tattoos Daniel would like the idea of putting there, if the idea of defacing Max’s skin wasn’t worse. "There are like, different levels of kink I guess."

Max snorts, apparently unimpressed by Daniel's reasonings.

"This, of course, I know," he says petulantly, "but why is she always pulling out her metal butt plug like it is the wildest thing ever. I know even people who are not gay use those. Martin does."

Daniel laughs at Max’s idea of not kinky being his world famous DJ friend, who must have a shag in every major city. The sound bounces around the ranch’s living room, the entire house having become an echo chamber of happiness recently, their giggles never too far away.

"Well, not everyone can be as wild as you, Max Verstappen," he says easily, watching Melanie reveal another sex dungeon that must have a few too many clichés for Max’s liking, if the way he wrinkles his nose up at it is any indication. "Not everyone can be as lucky as me, I guess."

This seems to please Max. Enough to have a pink flush spread across the top of his cheekbones, and for him to watch the remainder of the show with significantly fewer critiques. It gives Daniel time to ponder.

Butt plugs, spanking and handcuffs were all things he didn't try until his late twenties. Until Max, really, until he had someone in his bed enough nights in a row that it felt safe to bring up ideas of what he might want or like, outside of head and a good fuck. Things he’d been worried would be too strange, would say something about him to strangers he wasn’t quite ready to say to himself.

Max, on the other hand, had been shameless. Since the very first time Daniel had braved a conversation starting with, ‘don’t you think it could be fun to try,’ he had been willing and ready for any of Daniel’s wants, but he’d also wanted in return. Had opened his eyes to a whole new collection of Max’s desires only for them to become Daniel’s too.

It is one of the thing Daniel loves so much about him. Not his kinkiness, but how he is never ashamed of being anything other than wholly himself.

"I still do not understand why there is the room," Max half mumbles, his voice bringing Daniel back to the TV. His lips catch on Daniel's nipple as he speaks. Its too hot for t-shirts. "Can these people not just be kinky in their bed?"

Daniel hums, considering. Then, thinking back to comments both their sisters have made-

"Maybe it's hard," he suggests, "like if they have kids and stuff."

Then again, because he's feeling brave-

"Maybe we'll be commissioning Melanie to build us a whole sex house, you know, when we have little terrors."

Max's breathing catches; Daniel sees the way it stops and then shudders out from his chest in one long exhale. When he rolls his head back to look up at Daniel again, his cheeks are pinker, but his smile softest one he knows how to curve his mouth into, reserved usually for their nieces and nephews.

"Okay," is all he says, like it really is that easy. Daniel still remembers realising years ago and with a shock, that for them maybe it could be. "A sex house, for when we have babies. I'm holding you to that promise."

“Deal,” Daniel says, holding this his hand up for Max to shake. The awkward angle of it while cuddled together makes them both laugh again, and Daniel can’t resist letting the laughter linger by tickling Max’s side.

There are no more serious questions to ask about their future that they don’t already know the answer too, deep down. Some things in life have been a given to him since Max Verstappen joined Red Bull Racing; he was going to be a world champion, Daniel was not, and they were going to spend their lives loving each other in spite of that. Whatever each of them wanted that life to look like, the other would be on board.

There are some things Daniel doesn’t know though. Some things he has to ask. Like-

“Can it be cowboy themed?”

[mauesartetc]

Thoughts on Helluva Boss 205 ("Unhappy Campers")

Wow, this... This one may actually be worse than Murder Family. That's impressive.

Is anyone else noticing a pattern of Helluva Boss episodes going absolutely nowhere? Each one ends without affecting the larger plot in any meaningful way. Season 1's structure was fairly episodic as well, but at least back then there was some sense of progression.

I usually include separate lists of pros and cons in these critiques, but in this case, I have so few compliments to give this thing it's not worth it. I tried my best to find more to like about this episode, but it gave me bupkis to work with. So I'll just present all my notes in chronological order.

Let's get this over with.

-Looks like the rehab facility where Barb used to live is located in Sloth (on account of the floating islands and all the pink in the environment), just like the hospital in this season's previous episode. We've never seen care centers in any other ring, so... Does Hell society's opinion of sick people dictate that they're just lazy? Some clarification on that might be nice.

-"She's got a job now. A life. Don't fuck it up by findin' her." Holy shit, the nurse is the most mature, sympathetic character in this entire episode. Tasing Blitzo in the butthole earns her bonus points in my book. Nurse Pussyface, you are way too good for this show.

-Why is Blitzo even trying to visit his sister if he's been kicked out of the facility several times and knows she hates him? What's the impetus? "Look, I know you hate my guts, but Dad's dead, and he named you in the will." Or maybe he had an experience that reminded him of her and figured he'd drop by to see how she was? Y'know, something.

-By the way, Helluva's animation is usually a highlight, but here there's not much to say about it. It wasn't especially memorable or ambitious; just kinda... passable. Even the climactic fight scene (which I'll get to later) didn't have much to write home about.

-How the hell didn't the client notice the holes in his boat before he rowed it out into deep water? Because I'm pretty sure it would leak when it was still in the shallow end of the lake, unless this is a unique real-life boating phenomenon I'm not aware of. Also, you'd think this guy was a bit too gung-ho to get out on the lake for someone who can't swim. Did someone have a gun to your head, dude?

Fun fact: Did y'all know I was on staff at a summer camp once? We had a pond, canoes, and a boathouse just like the camp in this episode. One thing we had that this camp apparently doesn't, however, is this important rule: No one gets in a canoe without a life jacket. EVER. But, well... We see later that the adults at this camp don't care much about safety, so I guess that's fair enough. (Though I'm curious how they manage to stay open, or what the client's loved ones have to say about his mysterious disappearance.)

-What did the client do to get sent to Hell after he died? Mrs. Mayberry murdered someone, so that's why she's here, but this kid seems pretty chill-? (And don't even try to explain this on Twitter, writers. If it's not in the story itself, it ain't canon.) I also can't help but notice that his design reflects the way he died, but every other sinner's appearance is just random. Consistency? Who needs it!

-Some unintentional hilarity for ya: Here's Millie's face after the client recounted his death.

And she holds this pose for the remainder of the scene. Was there NO direction on how to animate Millie here?! This is a grim situation and she's smiling?! I get that she's a demon, but damn that is cold. It's never been clearer that half her role in this story is just smiling and looking cute, to the point the animators don't know what else to do with her.

-Richard Horvitz's valley girl voice was kinda funny. I dug it. Not sure why Moxxie and Millie had to dress in drag for anything other than cheap laughs, though.

-I know Millie's hurtin' for more development, but this story's conflict would have made SO much more sense from a character standpoint if Moxxie were getting all the praise from the campers. Think about it: He's the one Blitzo always shits on and doesn't believe in. He's the one whose father doesn't love him. He's the one who never gets positive attention from anyone except his wife. Suddenly the conflict is much more compelling: Now that he has approval from these humans, maybe he doesn't need it from Blitzo anymore (not sure why he needed his approval in the first place, but whatever). Maybe he'd realize what he's been missing, and how shitty Blitzo's treatment has been in comparison. Could this be the breaking point that finally gets him to muster some self-respect and quit IMP? We'll never know, because the episode has miscalculated where the most interesting dilemma actually lies.

As far as we can tell, Millie's had zero reason to doubt herself, and we never see her being mistreated like Moxxie has.

Take these lines of dialogue: "And for once I feel like... Like I'm important! Like I'm somebody to be proud of!"

Wouldn't they fit so much better if they came out of Moxxie's mouth?

-I kinda liked how the lyrics of Millie's song were humble while Moxxie's lyrics were egotistical, showing that being down to earth will win you friends while being self-centered will turn people off. But is that really the kind of message we need in an adult show? It's a useful lesson for children, but after you hit the age of this series' target demographic, most people will have the social skills to know better than to pull what Moxxie did at the campfire.

-Speaking of Moxxie being super immature, why does he weep when a bunch of preteens ignores him? They're...They're kids, Mox. They aren't your peers. Literally who cares. This behavior makes no sense outside of (once again) cheap humor. I could understand being bummed out that you're not good with kids if you wanted to have your own someday, but even that doesn't warrant actual tears. And this makes him look like a massive hypocrite later on when he asks Millie why it matters what "these yokels" feel about her. I mean... You seemed to care a lot about how they saw you, Moxxie...

-Moxxie's excuse for why it's so hard for him to get information on the case is that everyone's too busy "swooning over" Millie. Here's a thought: Why doesn't Millie get the info? She's the one everyone likes, so it should be a snap, right? Well, once again, the characters get railroaded because the writers can't entertain any other plot ideas. And of course Moxxie ends up getting blamed for everything as if he's the only one who fucked up here.

-Why the hell would a summer camp show so much favoritism toward a single camper that they set up a friggin' concert for this camper and this camper only? Yeah yeah, "viral sensation" and everything, but 1) The news crew can wait another day or so for camp to end in order to conduct an interview (y'know, something that wouldn't require a huge-ass stage and pyrotechnics that'd cost the camp boatloads of money), and 2) The camp staff thinks Millie is a child. How fucking irresponsible can you get to lavish this much attention on a kid? Think it'll go to her head or something? Psssh nah. Also, you're telling me none of the other campers are the tiniest bit jealous? How do you think they feel, seeing this one kid get treated like a god while they're left in the dust?

Okay, plot-wise, the writers decided they wanted Millie to sing a song so she's occupied during the final showdown with the killer. Easy solution: Camp talent show. That way, the adults treat all the campers equally, and Millie gets her (more believable) moment in the spotlight.

-Oh hey, we finally see Asmodean crystals in action. And of course the first one we see is a butt plug.

SuCh a MAturE shOw, GUys! (Sorry, I'm still laughing my head off at that.)

So, a bit of backstory for those who aren't familiar: We first learned of Asmodean crystals in the Season 2 premiere, when Stolas opened the grimoire to reveal Norse runes on its pages. Someone on the internet was kind enough to translate:

Now here's the deal: Blitzo tells the lust demon to open the portal with his crystal (even threatening him at gunpoint), leading me to believe only non-imps could use Asmodean crystals and that's why he needed the grimoire to get to the human world.

But guess what happens later:

Blitzo's sister Barb, another imp, uses a crystal on her bracelet to open a portal back to Hell. So what exactly was the point of stealing the grimoire from Stolas??

BLITZO. YOU. DENSE. MOTHERFUCKER.

Okay, maybe I'll be generous and acknowledge that there might be another explanation, like Blitzo getting banned from using Asmodean crystals because he's misused them in the past. (Maybe there's a spell that causes the crystals to burn him every time he tries to hold one. Something of that nature.) But at this point I don't trust these writers to fill in their plot holes. Or plot portals, as the case may be.

-The portals themselves are kinda pretty, though. I can appreciate that they look different from the portals created by the grimoire.

-Moxxie calls Blitzo "sir" in this episode despite Blitzo telling him to use his first name in Truth Seekers. Moxxie then uses it in "Ozzie's" (if I remember correctly), but now he's back to "sir" for unexplained reasons-? Coupled with how their relationship has reverted back to square one with Blitzo learning nothing (as well as no one bringing up the agents or what they can do to stop them leaking the proof that demons exist), do the writers just want us to forget that episode or what?

-Blitzo chastises Moxxie for dragging the case out for a week, but it took him a week to track down Barb. This hypocrisy is never addressed.

-At the boathouse, Blitzo tells Moxxie he's looking for his sister, then kicks down the door, revealing Barb inside. Moxxie asks, "Do you know her?" "Do I know her? That's my sister, fuckface!" That's... oddly repetitive, writers. I get that Moxxie wouldn't immediately make the connection since Barb's disguised as a human, but there's a more graceful way to handle that in the dialogue. Something like, "Is this her?" "Oh, now you're on the ball!"

-In an earlier post I expressed concern that these writers wouldn't handle Barb's addiction well, and I'm somewhat relieved they didn't go into it. But I also predicted she'd amount to a genderbent Blitzo instead of having her own personality, and... well...

Overindulges in addictive substances? Check. Runs a business that requires travel to the human world? Check. Pottymouth? Check. Uses sexuality as leverage? Check.

It would've been nice to at least get a hint about what Blitzo did to make her hate him so much (and perhaps confronting that would make him rethink how he treats Moxxie-?), but I guess we'll have to find out when she comes back in seven episodes or so. Yaaaaay.

-Barb says she picked this particular human as her supplier because teenagers are easy to manipulate, but she really had no way to accomplish that other than flashing her panties at him? Assuming Barb and Blitzo are the same age, she's in her 30s, and... it's just a tad creepy and uncalled for, even if this kid's legal. That's a pretty big age (and power) gap regardless. This is one of those times when it looks a lot more predatory when you switch the genders, but, importantly, women can be predators too. Bad optics, y'all.

-The climactic fight scenes in prior episodes were snappy and exciting, but this one's pacing felt really sluggish. I get that the song in the background had a slower tempo than we're used to in these action scenes, but would it have been so hard to double-time the animation? Also, previous fight scenes were notable for their creative choreography, but Barb wrapped her tail around Moxxie twice in a row. Having trouble coming up with new fight moves, guys? Like damn, she's an acrobat. She could do so much more.

-In another edition of "characters being idiots because plot", Moxxie and Millie make out in front of everyone who thinks they're related. They couldn't have run off to somewhere more private?? Apparently no; this needed to happen so Millie's internet fame would be dashed... or, here's another option: Show how the internet popularity cycle is so damn short that everyone's already moved on to the next sensation. You could have made that funny if you actually put in some effort. Like... The faux-incest was just so unnecessary.

-Much like Murder Family, another unfunny ending where Moxxie's dreams are crushed. Blitzo gets his hopes up only to call him a "fuckin' disgrace". But remember, guys: He'S HArd oN hiM BEcauSE hE CAreS! (Fuck it, I think I'll just edit a supercut of every time Blitzo has berated Moxxie, pre- and post-Truth Seekers.)

Oh and look, Millie's glaring at Blitzo, which is totally the same as opening her mouth to tell him off like he deserves, right?

She'll take on a whole gang of mobsters out of love for Moxxie, but standing up to Blitzo? Whoa, that's a step too far. Y'know, because he's the writers' favorite and he shouldn't have to experience any complications from his behavior. Same old story as it's been for a season and a half.

This ending would've been a million times better if it left off on a cliffhanger. Maybe this could have been Moxxie's final breaking point. After Blitzo calls him a disgrace, Moxxie could take a deep breath and...

MOXXIE: (flatly) I quit.

Then he walks out of the room. Everyone looks after him, stunned. When he closes the door, the screen cuts to black and the credits roll.

Oh shit, what's going to happen next? How will Blitzo deal with this? How will it affect Moxxie and Millie's home life? What kind of new job will Moxxie find to keep food on the table? Will he ever come back to IMP, or will Blitzo find a replacement? I know these writers aren't too interested in serialization or any sense of continuity outside of the stupid romance subplot (or hell, inside it), but good god, it would give viewers some exciting possibilities to look forward to.

This episode had so much potential and followed through on none of it. "Unhappy Campers" turned out to be a more fitting title than expected, as that's exactly what I was while watching this.

(Also this show needs a continuity coordinator like yesterday.)

[mdawgswizzleinthehizzle]

i’m doing a rewatch of the last of us hbo and i’m really realizing how cut and worn down joel gets in episode 6.

one thing right after the other happens to him and it’s honestly insane how long he kept his shit together, so i’m gonna spell it out…

and maybe those of y’all that call joel too emotional or soft in the show for having his breakdown can understand why…

within the first few minutes, joel is told by the couple in the cabin that there is a fairly good likelihood that his brother is dead. that alone would have sent me into a spiral and it does really impact joel like we haven’t seen before. after he and ellie leave the cabin, he has panic attack #1.

i’m gonna be a little transparent here and say this: i developed anxiety in 2020 that was debilitating for months and although i am in a much better place today, i’m still dealing with anxiety all the time. during the worst of it, i had panic attacks and while my trauma is nowhere near close to joel’s, i know how draining panic attacks are.

but anyways, he has his panic attack and moves on but for the remainder of the trip, until he is reunited with tommy, he is stuck with the thought that his brother may be dead. and all this time spent protecting him and then looking for him was in vain. he couldn’t save him in time. another failure.

between their reunion though, we see joel having nightmares. in the cave, after he falls asleep on watch, its very clear he wakes up from a nightmare. with the way he immediately searches for ellie upon waking, my guess is that his nightmare was about her.

then they are surrounded by jackson’s patrol. and joel has panic attack #2. once again, about ellie, fearing that she is about to be torn up by the dog, but his panic attack won’t allow him to do anything. he freezes.

there is a brief moment of happiness when he is reunited with tommy but it is quickly snuffed when he realizes tommy’s situation. tommy doesn’t need his help, he hasn’t this whole time, his brother has a wife and later finds out that he is expecting a baby. his brother has been living it up as best as someone can in the apocalypse and never radioed to joel ONCE to tell him he was okay.

at the table, when ellie, joel, tommy and maria are talking, maria very pointedly looks at joel when tommy says “a bad reputation doesn’t mean you’re bad” and maria says “not always, at least”. maria already doesn’t like him because apparently tommy has talked something bad about him. his own brother.

then he has a talk with tommy in the bar. its clear that his trust in tommy is shaky by this point because he lies to tommy about tess and ellie. then he has his fight with him and when he walks out of the bar, he has panic attack #3. let’s add insult to injury because then he sees someone who resembles sarah, his dead daughter. not only that but the lady has a kid of her own, something to resemble what joel never got: grandchildren.

then he finally has his breakdown. another little insult to injury, tommy gives him brand new boots since he noticed joel was trying to fix his old ones. another reminder that tommy is well off. the things he confesses to tommy are absolutely heartbreaking and its insane that he has been able to keep it all in to that point.

he is then faced with the choice of giving ellie over to tommy because while ellie feels less afraid with joel, joel feels more afraid with her.

then he has his fight with ellie where ellie uses his daughter against him (and i understand her desperation, i do). that was a really rough fight and once joel is alone in his room, we can see him shed another tear thinking of sarah.

the next day comes, and joel goes back on his choice and takes ellie. he has to say goodbye to his brother again but at least for a while after that, joel gets a break. he has fun and bonds with ellie on their trip.

… until he gets stabbed at the end of the episode.

so… to anyone that says joel is too soft in the show or too emotional, let’s remember that he is human. game joel is humanized too but its also a game. for the show, they had to really humanize joel which means that he is going to be much more mentally affected than game joel is throughout the story. panic attacks and crying are not soft or emotional, they aren’t weak, this man has been through hell and its a wonder he has made it this far. we only see three panic attacks but if they are that frequent, i can guarantee he has had more that we don’t see.

episode 6 really bashes him, its no wonder he broke down to tommy. pedro did an amazing job. he’s got me cryin’ everytime i watch it.

[cometcrystal]

for the anon earlier. some random pnf headcanons 💯 i might have talked about some of these before but i'll take any chance to talk about stuff i like

i've DEFINITELY talked about this one before but as adults phineas and isabella are divorced besties with a son. they love each other soooo much but the romance part just didn't really work.

yall also already know i hc jeremy as bi but i find it worth mentioning because it was one of my first lgbt headcanons EVER after i figured out i could do that. buford and baljeet were probably first.

eliza and nicolette are endgame. do you see my vision

it doesn't matter to the show whatsoever but i do have ideas for what happened to mr flynn and mrs fletcher. in my timeline mr flynn was abusive and linda left him when she was pregnant with phineas, and mrs fletcher died at some point. idk how. ferb was too young to remember her. i have not worked out how close she and lawrence were but she had green hair

phineas and ferb cure multiple cancers in 10th grade and make the patents open-source

one of my early internet friends turned the drummer in jeremy's band into an oc named hugo.... he was in a situationship with jenny that lasted well past their 30s

speaking of jenny i think she and django disappeared for a bit because their rich artist dad took them to. like. greece or something. for the remainder of the summer and theyre just living their best life on a veranda on the other side of the planet until the school year starts

phineas, ferb, and baljeet COULD graduate VERY early but they purposely stay in the same grade as their friends because they love them. once the acts/sats/ap exams come around though its over for you hoes.

candace and stacy went to horse camp (a week long program during the summer teaching kids to ride horses) every summer until high school. at which point they decided it was For Babies. but they're both still horse girls deep down.

since we know that jeremy has liked candace longer than she's liked him, i think he was a really shy kid. he was too nervous to even look at her some days. when she gave him that pencil that one time, he didn't even say anything. he broke out of his shell later and became a friendly young man but candace still made him nervous. etc etc.

xavier and fred are movie buffs. they're usually logging one film per day. if letterboxd still exists on the future their profiles would be legendary.

jeremy picked the name fred. he was fine with candace already having names picked out, but once they found out they were having twins, she texted him a link to a baby name website and told him to pick his favorite. He picked Fred.

jeremy has written an entire album about candace and its all shit that sounds like Chasing Cars and candace LOVES IT

stacy interning at owca is how she meets her girlfriend vanessa and also how she meets her future wife in uruguay

buford and isabella have ice cream romcom sleepovers and nobody else is invited this is THEIR bonding time

IN MY TIMELINE JEREMY AND COLTRANE WERE AT THE ROBOT RIOT IN THE ORANGE TREEHOUSE ROBOT WHILE CANDACE AND STACY WERE IN THE PINK ONE. #COPING

sometimes the flynn fletcher kids would spend entire days at the antique shop before candace was old enough to watch the boys

this isn't really a headcanon but i want to see some isabella and jeremy bro moments. Because of In love with #TwoCrazyRedheads

Thats the only ones i can think of right now. My hands are shaking

[kaigarax]

Sometimes, All I Think About Is You

Satoru Gojo x Reader

Quote: "Openly fall in love."

First Encounters

The first time Satoru Gojo sees you is when the two of you are just kids. He’s a boy just about to attend Eton Academy and you’re a young girl who’s just begun to learn the difference between men and women.

Satoru’s parents, citing his lack of friends (his only friend being the young stable boy around his age) and hoping to acquaint him with some ‘proper’ company. Whatever that’s supposed to mean. So, being the ever doting parents that the Gojo’s claim to be they set up a playdate with the family of the viscounts that live close by.

A family of six, if Satoru isn’t mistaken.

The Viscount and his wife, two twin boys around his age and two girls about five and seven years younger respectively.

Satoru finds your older brothers awfully boring. One of them, Satoru thinks, certainly has to be the dumbest person he’s ever met and the other is the most aloof. Such a pair that Satoru is almost a little worried about what might happen next to the Viscount's family in the future and he rarely ever cares about others.

Satoru doesn’t try very hard to get along with the two boys. He lets them show him around briefly, he even plays a couple of games of croquet before disappearing into the manner with the excuse of looking for the bathroom. With any luck, the two of them might forget about him long enough for the remainder of this horrible playdate to end and he can finally leave.

Truth be told, Satoru has always been a little different from the other people around him. Always seen the world a little differently from everyone else. It was almost as if everyone else stumbled around in a world of black and white while he was the only one that could see in colour. The only person who ever came close to understanding him was Suguru Geto, the stable boy and son of his family’s butler. And while it was frowned upon to make friends with the ‘help’ it would be the first time that Satoru could just be… himself.

The young boy could barely even find it within himself to feel bad as he abandoned your twin brother to wander the house. Sure, he’d been given a tour earlier but that had mostly been a quick look around. Satoru hadn’t gotten the chance to actually look at things in the detail that he wanted to.

His eyes wandered from the old curtains, which oddly reminded Satoru of his mother’s dresses, to the long line of photos left to hang up on the wall. Family portraits, Satoru thinks. All the people look vaguely familiar to one another with a familiar resemblance in the eyes and smiles. Satoru’s own family had something similar though the paintings are ones of the patriarch rather than of the entire family.

“It took the painter three weeks to paint that one.” You say.

Satoru isn’t surprised, he had heard you come in, but he feigns surprise. Suguru had told him that it was better to pretend to act normal around other people if he wanted them to like him. He had always found that annoying and pretentious but he would do what he had to in polite society. Especially if it meant he wouldn’t have to hear another lecture from his parents.

You look to be a couple years younger than Satoru as he turns to look at you. Five years give or take one or two in either direction. You’re a small thing, well small compared to him. You’re draped in a cool summer dress while Satoru personally thinks that spring is much too early. There also happens to be pins attached at the edges of the dress reminding him of his own fitting session that he would have to attend later on in the week.

Satoru hates attending fitting sessions. Doesn't see why he always needs to be wearing clothes that fit perfectly, especially because he seems to need to head there at least once every two months now that he’s begun growing. He doesn’t see why he can’t just wear clothes that are a little too big or too small for a little while like Suguru.

You take a step towards him, your eyes never lingering too long on him. Satoru’s always being scolded by his mother for staring at one thing for too long or not keeping eye contact long enough but you seem to have mastered the timing of the gaze perfectly. It’s both polite and respectful.

It absolutely infuriates Satoru.

You regard him with a calm expression that has him forgetting that you’re the younger of the two.

“I see you’ve abandoned the company of my brother.” You state.

Satoru points his nose up, “what of it?”

“It was merely an observation. I meant no harm.”

He then scrunches his face up as he leans down to stare at you. He has to lean down quite far considering you’re short. Though, admittedly you are five years younger than him and he’s tall for his age.

He notices that you’re holding a book behind your back fiddling around the edges of the page self consciously. Satoru had never been a big fan of reading, especially when he was around your age. He’d rather be outside play-wrestling with Suguru or doing some other physical activity or sport. He’d always been very good at physical things.

Admittedly, Satoru thinks you're pretty. Much better looking than your two brothers. So much so that he briefly wonders if the three of you are even related in the first place. If not for the same shape of the eyes, Satoru would have been certain that you were merely children that lived in the same house instead of siblings.

He still thinks that might be the case.

You’ll probably be pretty when you grow up. Perhaps not nearly as pretty as his mother but he’s certain you’ll be… charming? Well, at the very least you won’t be ugly. Especially if you end up taking after your mother. Satoru never really cared much for how pretty other people are but he has always considered himself a good judge.

Finally, Satoru pulls away, “you’re annoying.”

“If you’re attempting to insult me you’re going to have to try a little harder,” you say, a teasing smile playing at the corners of your lips, “I have two older brothers.”

“And you’re weird.” Huffed Satoru.

Your calm smile turns from calm to amused, “so are you.” Your lips move up more and your eyes seem to linger for just a moment longer on Satoru’s own.

Satoru’s jaw is dropped before he can even realise that it has. Not only is it the first time someone has so brazenly insulted him (not including Suguru) but it’s both the first time a woman (girl) has insulted him and someone younger than him has dared to treat him as an equal. Even most adults didn’t have the guts to bring themselves up to Satoru’s level unless they too stood in the same position as his parents.

But you.

Annoying and weird you are standing there in front of him as if you’re friends joking about a funny joke you just told. Perhaps you do think it’s a joke - which would only further prove to Satoru that you’re weird.

An older woman (likely your Nurse) runs into the room, her expression worried. She quickly bows to Satoru, “sorry, My Lord. The little missy here seems to have a mind of her own most of the time.” She turns to you with a harsh look, “did you say anything to insult the young Lord?”

Satoru expects you to roll your eyes or look away like any normal child would do. Thought maybe you might’ve stomped away angrily or made a face at him when your Nurse wasn’t looking.

Instead, your eyes soften and you smile fondly at your nurse, “I wasn’t on my best behaviour,” you calmly admitted.

Your Nurse sighs as she continues to reprimand you.

Satoru, on the other hand, is left a little shocked and speechless. He isn’t quite sure what happened but the wheels in his hand do begin turning and his heart starts to beat a little faster. He wonders if you can see the colours too.

---

A Conversation

Satoru Gojo comes to the conclusion that, after a while of getting to know you, yes you do see colours just not in the same way that he does. Your skills lie not in a brilliant way to dissect numbers nor demonstrate the ability to memorize new information or pick up skills at the drop of a hat like how he can but there’s nothing about you that can be considered ordinary either.

He heads over to your house at least once a week for the next two years. Not because he wants to, of course, but because his parents have stopped with the lectures about not hanging out with Suguru when he gives into their wishes and spends time at your house. And, sure, your older brother is awfully boring and dull but it gives him the chance to get to know you better. The strangely entertaining and endearing little girl who’s intelligence rivals his own.

It sucks that you don’t actually ever linger around when Satoru is there. You obediently listen to your brothers when they ask you to head elsewhere and you rarely ever spare Satoru a second glance unless Satoru goes out to seek you himself; and even you refuse to spend time with him unless he’s entertaining your brothers.

He notices that you’re an avid reader, always holding a new text in your hand every week. Satoru just knows that his parents wish that they had a child like you. So obedient to your elders and caretakers. So well mannered and thoughtful plus you seem intelligent and well read. He bets that you would have been named heir over your two older brothers if you too had been born a man.

You’re so mature for your age and perhaps that is what Satoru likes about you best.

He doesn’t have to go out of his way to entertain you or have to explain himself when he says something strange or different.

It simply just is.

It takes Satoru exactly two years to figure out why exactly he likes you so much. To come to all those conclusions above and finally get close enough to you that the two of you can consider one another as friends. It’s unfortunate that by then his visits stop as he begins school at Eton’s Academy for Boys. Higher education where any worth a damn in high society attends.

It sucks that he won’t be able to see you much anymore but what can Satoru do against the adamant wishes of his parents?

At least Suguru will be attending with him.

Suguru isn’t you but he’s one of the only people that actually understand him so it won’t be that bad.

You make his heart race and his stomach feel all fuzzy.

But it isn’t until several years later, when you’re a debutant freshly minted and prepared for your first season, that Satoru realises why.

It had been years since he’d last seen you.

Obviously, he knew that you were going to change. People always changed, both physically and mentally, but he just wasn’t ready for how different you looked. Hadn’t been as prepared for the change as he thought he was.

He’d always known that you would grow up to be pretty but this pretty? It wasn’t what he had been expecting.

Everyone’s eyes are drawn to you.

He knows that you must be the diamond of the season. It would simply be a crime not to. In fact, Satoru himself would march right up to the Queen himself and demand an explanation as to why you were not named the diamond.

Satoru floats through conversations, half of his attention on the conversation at hand and the other half wishing he was speaking to you. You always know the right thing to say to make him smile and he never has to bend over backwards trying to charm you. He knows you already like him exactly as he is. Flaws and all.

It’s unfortunate that his conversation with you ends almost as quickly as it begins.

You’re quickly swept away by some other gentlemen - your dance card full of potential suitors.

It annoys Satoru greatly though he isn’t quite sure why. Obviously, Satoru knows that he enjoys your company and he likes being around you so he’s angry that other people are taking your attention… right? That’s the reason. What else could it be?

Satoru’s thoughts were interrupted with a sharp elbow to his side as he exclaimed quietly, “hey!”

“You were pouting.” Suguru says.

“Was not.”

“Oh, you definitely were.”

Satoru grumbles to himself, annoyed.

Suguru chuckles quietly in response.

“What do you think of (Y/n)?” Satoru asked suddenly.

Suguru ponders briefly, “she’s a little like you.”

“Really?” Satoru raises a brow curiously, “I personally thought she was more like you.”

“How so?”

“She’s good at understanding other people and she cares an awful lot more about what other people think about her than she lets on.”

Suguru hums thoughtfully, “everyone cares about what everyone thinks.”

“I don’t.”

“That’s because you’re weird.”

“Hey!”

“It’s true,” Suguru gives Satoru a closed eye smile, “you’re weird but not super weird. A little weird.”

Satoru rolls his eyes, “like that’s so much better.”

“Let me put it this way,” Suguru explains, “you don’t care about what everyone thinks but you care about the thoughts of people that are important to you.”

“Isn’t that how everyone should think.”

“Oh, most certainly.”

Satoru knows that Suguru is mostly just entertaining him at this point. His words always have some hidden meaning to them (that Satoru is usually too lazy to dissect) but there are points when he simply says something to entertain Satoru. Suguru has always been thoughtful like that; it’s one of the reasons why Satoru has always liked him so much.

He thinks that that might be why he likes you too.

You make his heart race and his stomach feel all fuzzy.

But it isn’t until several years later, when you’re a debutant freshly minted and prepared for your first season, that Satoru realises why.

---

The Moment

Satoru is surprised when he sees you sitting by yourself early one spring morning.

Staring off into the distance in the middle of a hill that floats down into a lake.

Fluffs of dandelion seeds float around haphazardly in the air. Almost like snowflakes amidst the cool spring air. The melodic chirping of birds fills the air, though Satoru personally has never been a fan. Many of his classmates had written poems about the birds before. Talking about flight and freedom alongside a musicality that comes so naturally to them compared to humans.

It’s unusual for women, especially young girls who are in search of a husband, to head outside by themselves where any man could just stumble upon them without a chaperone. Satoru bets that you had woken up bright and early just so that you might be able to have a moment alone.

He almost feels a little bad to intrude on your moment alone.

He imagines you don’t get very many.

But he approaches you nonetheless. His heart tugs him towards you much like how a child pulls their parents down the aisles of a candy store. Eager and excited.

“(Y/n)~” Satoru says your name sweetly, liking the way it flows off of his tongue so easily. Thinks that it tastes so much better than some of the sweetest things he’s whispered to others.

You don’t bother turning to look at him as you would have done if this had taken place in the presence of others, “My Lord.”

“Satoru.”

“You really do love saying your name,” you tease, as he takes a seat beside you. He makes a face as the bottom of his pants get wet from the damp grass upon contact. His usual reaction would have been to jump up and scowl. He usually hates any uncomfortable feeling and does anything he can to avoid any such sensations but forces himself to bear with it as your warm shoulder brushes against his own. Well the sleeve of your dress brushes up against the dress-shirt but this is close enough for him. Besides, his pants are already wet now so he can bear with it for a little longer.

The two of you stare off into the distance, staring at the lake.

Satoru notices that you’re still in your nightgown. It’s light and flowy, similar to the clothes you used to wear when you were young. Hot stuffy dresses are what’s most popular now in women’s fashion and being a proper lady of good origins you do your diligence in following the fashion trends. Strangely though, the thought of your subtle acts of rebellion bring a smile to his face. It’s so subtle and detached from the main parts of society yet so much louder than you’ll ever realise.

He bets that your mother would be furious if she found that you were outside and alone with an unmarried man. Furious if you came back with the bottom of your dress soaked from the morning dew and rain.

You probably don’t care though.

Your attention is much better spent on the lake in front of you. (Satoru personally thinks that your attention would be even better spent on him.)

He doesn’t bother to look at the lake he’s already seen hundreds of times in his life.

This is where he and Suguru used to play pirates. Where he’d first been tossed into the lake when the two of them were horsing around and where he had crawled out of angrily. Where he’d caught his first frog and made his first (mud) painting.

This was the lake of his childhood that he loved oh so dearly.

But right now, he found that he’d rather look at you.

The baby fat you had on your cheeks back before he had left for Eton is gone. It makes you look more mature. Less like the girl that made fun of him and more into the woman that would send light teases his way. Makes you seem less like the girl who always carried around picture books and into a young woman that reads intellectual novels that dive into the human.

He’s a little sad. He had quite a fondness for the young girl that managed to make him mad with the single raise of an eyebrow. It’s almost like the loss of someone important to him. Someone he didn’t know that he would miss as much and a version of you that he would never get to say goodbye to.

But, he finds that he has a fondness for the you that’s sitting beside him now.

He wouldn’t go as far as saying that he likes this version more than the young child you but he would admit that this version was much more… exciting to be around. Almost like a mystery that he was working to solve.

A smile pulls at his lips when he notices a book in your lap.

“What’re you reading?” Satoru asks, pointing to the book in your lap.

You brush the cover of the book gently, “Pride and Prejudice.”

“Suguru read that book once.”

“Have you?”

“No. Besides, Suguru said it was just a boring romance novel for women anyways. Says nothing that we don’t already know.”

You smile as you nudge him playfully, “do you let Lord Suguru’s opinions dictate all of your own decisions, My Lord?”

“No,” Satoru pouts, “but I’ve never liked reading much anyways. It’s easier to let him do the reading first. He knows what I do and don’t like. Besides, I don’t want to waste my time reading something I wouldn’t even like.”

Finally, you turn to look at him. To the untrained eye it would be a look of indifference. But to Satoru, your self proclaimed childhood best friend, your expression is one of amusement. From the way your eyes crinkle in the corners slightly to how you sit up more straight ever so slightly and the subtle twitch of your lips. Plus, the most obvious and dead give away to anything, your eyes. They look at him, lingering on his face for a moment longer than they linger on anyone else's as you respond with a soft, “and what do you like to read, My Lord?”

“Comedies usually.”

“Like?”

“Twelfth Night.”

You raise a brow delicately, “Shakesphere?”

Satoru places a hand on his chest, feigning offence, “are you implying that you think I wouldn’t like the works of one of the greatest writers and minds of our time?”

“Oh, I’d never, my Lord,” you eyes crinkle in the corners, “I was simply surprised. Most men I speak with prefer something more contemporary like Wordsworth or perhaps something practical and sensible like a book on agriculture or architecture. They consider things like Shakesphere to be mere entertainment.”

“So then are you implying that you think I have the taste of a woman?”

“And who would you consider yourself akin to then, my Lord? Duke Ceasiro?”

Satoru makes a face.

You chuckle softly in response, “you must admit, the two of you share a certain resemblance.”

“I am insulted on every level, (Y/n).”

“I’m sure you are.”

“I am!” Satoru exclaims, waving his arms above his head, “I am most like the honourable Sebastian.”

“Ah yes, Viola’s twin brother.”

Satoru nods.

“Well, he’s certainly an opportunist.”

“Would you not marry a beautiful woman that you just met and is seemingly in love with you?”

You hum softly as you ponder on the idea.

Satoru remembers how he had dragged Suguru to the play house that day. He had originally gone because there was a particular woman that he wanted to promenade with after but had actually found the show to be quite enjoyable. Suguru was absolutely furious with him but even he had a few chuckles at some moments.

“What was your favourite part about Twelfth Night?” You ask, leaning against him.

“The love triangle.”

“Well, it certainly isn’t the traditional kind of love triangle.”

“A true love triangle, I’d say.”

“The kind you’d like to find yourself in?” You tease.

Satoru shrugs in response.

From where Satoru sat he could see a small group of birds gathering around. They reminded him a bit of the Ton. So easily swept up into a single moment and conversation without much consideration about the world around them. Much thought and consideration is never put into everything else that this world has to offer.

“What kind of stuff do you like to read?” Satoru asks.

You smile, “you mean apart from the book in my hand?” Satoru can tell from the way you lean back away from him with a gleam in your eyes that you’re teasing him.

So he decides to tease you back.

He leans in towards you with a grin, “you and I both know you’re only reading that because it’s popular. It’s not what you actually like to read.”

“And what do you think I like to read?”

“Wouldn’t have asked if I knew the answer.”

“Alright, I’ll bite, Satoru.”

He beams brightly when you say his name.

“The last thing I read for my own enjoyment was, Thomas De Quincey’s, Confessions of an Opium Eater.”

Satoru’s jaw drops, “the drug addict poet?”

“Most writers struggle with addiction.”

“What do you like about De Quincey’s works?”

“He wrote quite a particularly thought provoking piece about the human mind. Looking into the subconscious.”

“Oh?”

“He writes, ‘dreams are the unconscious mind finishing the halted thoughts of the conscious.’”

“A Romantic for sure.”

You beam, “oh, most definitely.”

Satoru thinks that this is the first time he’s ever seen you smile in such a way. If he weren’t already sitting he would have fallen flat on the ground. His heart would have stopped in his chest and he likely would have fallen to the ground and died only then to be once again revived by your beauty.

He thinks that this is where humanity must have peaked. That there will never again be someone that looks as beautiful as you do when you’re smiling. That no one will ever hold such a place in his heart that you do.

He leans towards you with a lovesick smile, “I’m going to marry you.”

You cough a little, “excuse me?”

His smile doesn’t falter, “I think I’m falling in love with you.”

“Why me?”

“You understand me.”

“Hm?”

“You see the world in a way that everyone else doesn’t and you see me for who I am. Not who everyone else thinks that I should be.”

“My Lord-”

“Satoru.” He corrects.

“Satoru,” you lean away, “don’t you think you’re being a little hasty? We’ve barely even had a full conversation since you came back from school.”

“And?”

“You barely know who I am.” You look hesitant, the mask you always wear slipping as if you’ve never worn it before.

He takes your hand before you can bolt off (he hopes that it comforts you the same way it comforts him), “I know that you understand my loneliness. You know how it feels like for the whole world to want you to be a certain way. You’ve perfected the way of living from the way you move to the smile on your face to be exactly what society expects of you.” He feels as though his heart is beating a million beats a minute.

Your expression shifts a little.

Going from hesistance -

- to surprise.

And then suddenly Satoru doesn’t know what it is that you’re exactly thinking right now. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen this expression on you and it worries him a little. His heart is fluttering in anticipation.

Satoru doesn’t think he’s ever been in such an uncomfortable situation before.

Well… there was that one time where Suguru had hidden Satoru’s favourite riding helmet as payback for something stupid he said earlier. In an attempt to make it seem like he wasn’t bothered, Satoru had gone off with a different helmet and messed up almost everything. Nothing seemed right. His horse, even though it was his favourite steed that he had ridden since he was a boy, just wasn’t listening the way it usually did. He actually almost fell off his horse twice (and actually did fall off once while in the middle of getting on).

Yeah, Satoru thinks, this feeling is a little something like that.

“Satoru.” You hold his hand tightly.

“Hm?”

“Be here with me.”

“I am here.”

“Stay in the moment with me,” you say softly, “your mind keeps drifting elsewhere.”

Satoru’s heart flutters as he smiles down at you fondly, “okay.”

Yeah.

He’s most definitely falling in love with you.

No.

He has fallen in love with you.

He’s going to marry you.

Openly, fall in love.

[toasttt11]

goodbyes

September 9, 2022

Luke, Jack, Quinn and her parents had all joined her to help her get moved into her new apartment a few days before camp started and then preseason, Luke had already started school but took a few days off to make sure he was there to help his twin.

Octavia had bought an apartment that was mostly furnished already only really needing to get anything else if she didn’t like something already. She got a three bedroom and two bath apartment. One bedroom for her, A guest bedroom and a then the last room she turned in into her art room so she has somewhere she can do her art.

She loved the really old and industrial look the apartment had and the large windows that gives a great view of Toronto, she’s just on the edge of the city so she is close to everything she needs to get to but not in the busy part of the city.

Octavia and Luke the past summer have been very stuck to each other, once Octavia told her family she wasn’t going back to Michigan next year and would be going to go play with the leafs the twins have kinda dreaded the day they would be split since.

Octavia and Luke were sharing her bed, Ellen and Jim in the guest rooms and Quinn and Jack on the coaches in the living rooms. Octavia could feel Luke stiring around instead of peacefully sleeing she turned over facing her twin, “What’s wrong Lucky?”

Luke pursued his lips rubbing a hand thought his messy curls, “What if we drift apart Win?” His whisper cut thought the silence of the room, his voice cracking with emotion.

Octavia felt her fact soften she scooted closed to her brother resting her head on his shoulder linking their pinky’s together, “I promise you Luke that could never happen, your my best friend and my other half.” Octavia softly spoke to her best friend. Showing emotion has always been more easier for her with Luke but with anyone else it’s always been more uncomfortable.

“Ok. I promise too.” Luke held his twin sister tightly for the remainder of the night not wanting to think how he’s leaving in the morning.

The morning came around way too fast and Octavia and Luke were already awake both dreading to get out of bed knowing what’s to come. They could smell the coffee being made from their parents and the footsteps of Quinn and Jack walking.

Octavia let out a sigh before forcing herself to get out of bed she put her hand out for Luke who took it and got out as well. They both got ready for the day before linking their hands and walking out to the kitchen where their family was.

Ellen frowned seeing her twins both look so sad and gripping each other and couldn’t feel heartbroken for the two.

Octavia led Luke to her coffee machine pouring herself a giant cup into her mug as Luke stood next to her.

The twins sat together on the couch cuddled for the next hour before they had to leave.

“Alright we’ve got to get going.” Ellen frowned looking at Luke and Octavia.

Luke and Octavia shared a look before forcing themselves to let go of each other so Octavia could say her goodbyes to the rest of their family.

Octavia hugged Jack tightly, “Don’t hesitate to call alright.” Jack whispered not wanting his sister to have a hard time alone and in her rookie year.

Octavia relaxed in Quinn’s hug and hugged him back, they didn’t need to talk the silence being more than enough.

Octavia hugged her mother and let her mother smoother her in affection because Octavia knows how much her mother misses her kids most of the year.

Octavia hugged her dad and nodded to everything he was telling her before letting go and turning to the last person not wanting to say her goodbyes to him.

Octavia took a shuttering breath trying not to break down crying. Luke and Octavia looked at each other before lunging at each other and tightly hugging each other. Luke too. a deep breath feeling the tears already down his face and Octavia could feel her eyes filled with tears.

“Tell me everything?” Luke softly asked feeling the tears not stopping.

“Only if you tell me everything.” Octavia whispered back feeling her cheeks covered with tears and not wanting to pull away from her twin yet.

“And enjoy it ok, no one is more proud of you than i am.” Luke whispered feeling bad that Octavia start of her dream has been so sad for her. “I love you Winnie.” Luke pressed a kiss to the side of her head.

“I love you more Lucky.” Octavia chocked out gripping her brother tightly.

The twins slowly let go of each other staring at each other with shaking jaws trying not to cry more, The twins did their handshake once more before Octavia nodded turning around slighty not wanting to see Luke leave.

The rest of the family has stepped outside letting the twins say their goodbyes alone.

Luke walked to the door taking one more look at his twin sister before closing the door behind her, Luke felt Jack out his arm around his shoulder as they walked out.

Octavia held one hand of over heart feeling immense pain and one hand over her mouth to silence her cry’s.

Octavia held her moon necklace between her fingers as she watched from the window watching her family get into the car and star driving away. Octavia closed her eyes taking a deep breath trying to stop the tears from falling again.

Of course Octavia misses her older brothers during the season when they are away but she’s use to them being away and she missed her parents when she went to collage but they were only a quick drive away, but Luke she’s the most she had been away from him was for two weeks when he was injured and couldn’t join the hockey tournament but the twins have been glued to each others sides forever, they have always been together and not she’s starting a new chapter in her life and for once she’s alone.

Octavia stood by the windows for what felt like hours before dragging herself to her room and getting under the covers and crying and sitting in silence for the rest of the day. Waking up the next morning in an empty apartment and caked on dried tears all over her face.

[nico-di-genova]

kinda scared z*k br*wn is gonna offer nolan siegel a seat and not re-sign rossi since he just won le mans w his team.....wdyt???

I think Z*k Br*wn would have to square up and fight me in a chilis parking lot if he even considers that.

If he does sign Nolan though, I think it’s probably likely that he would take Theo’s seat before Alex’s. Since Theo only has a seat for the remainder of 2024 to my knowledge. Alex has been performing consistently, when he’s given the car to do so. He got fourth in the Indy 500, he had an insanely good drive in Detroit, even in Road America he was up in the top 5 before the wastebasket issue with the car, which was entirely outside of his control. And he’s only dropped so much in the standings because of Road America. Which, once again, factors completely outside of his control. It speaks to his skill as a driver that he was able to even stay in P18 honestly, because he seemingly had no push to pass whatsoever. The wastebasket issue essentially fucked his engine and the turbo, so he was easily the slowest running car of the bunch.

Most importantly, I think Alex has the sponsors that make him valuable from a business standpoint as well. He works with Tag Heuer, which I believe is outside sponsorship he’s brought in entirely on his own and they’re a massively huge watch brand. As much as he pretends not to be, he is good with people, in that he knows when he needs to be charming and approachable. He knows how to work a crowd, he’s mature and responsible, which is something I think Arrow McLaren would find appealing. He’s basically been working with sponsors and investors since he was a kid (which, I take some issue with *cough* having him do sponsor events on his birthday instead of letting him be a kid *cough*) so I feel his experience in the business side of the sport could be hugely valued. It would only be a help when it comes to contract negotiations for sure.

Plus, Alex and Pato have built up a good report too. They mesh well and they don’t seem to publicly have any issue with each other. I think a brilliant show of their teamwork was the 500, where they were trading off the lead for a good chunk of that third quarter. They were alternating clean air and giving each other a tow, which meant that they were able to both grow the gap between themselves and the cars behind. In moments where they do have issues, they’re fairly quick to apologize to each other, and make sure that the relationship doesn’t sour.

I think it’s far more likely that if Alex were to leave, it would be of his own volition. He’s publicly stated he doesn’t like the 5 car program, and he knows as long as he stays at Arrow McLaren he’s going to be consistently playing second to Pato. So I think it’s really a question of if he’s okay with that, if that’s what he’s looking for at this stage of his career. He’s made it work so far, but he is also growing older, so if he wants to have a true shot at winning the championship or the 500 again, he might have to look outward. Which, may not even be possible, I don’t know if there are even any top teams right now with open seats for next year. I also don’t know if that’s really what he’s looking for, I think he chose Arrow McLaren because he saw the potential there. He’s also stated he knows they’re not a top team yet, and it takes times to get there. From how he speaks about the organization it doesn’t seem like he minds waiting.

So sure, I guess Z*k could sign Nolan and replace Alex, but I also think he would be massively moronic to do so. The better bet, if he really wanted him, would be to have Nolan take Theo’s seat, since the No. 7 car has seen nothing but a constant rotation of drivers this year to begin with.

Anyway, all this to say, Alex hurry up and sign that freaking contract. And Z*k be prepared to have your ass kicked if you don’t resign my man.

[evan4ever]

Hello babes 😘 just wondering if you could write a pre-death Tate langdon x fem!reader where she catches him cutting himself in the school bathroom and helps him clean up. Major fluff. And since he's only ever been in one night stands sex is the only way he can show his appreciation for her caring for him when not even his mum could. Thanks hun ❤️

You’re so pretty, it hurts

Tate Langdon x f!Reader

Warnings: self harm, blood, p in v penetration, unprotected sex

A/n: I apologize if this isn’t good, Tate is the only Evan character I couldn’t vibe with well (doesn’t mean he’s not hot 🥵) so I tried my best and hope it’s still good!! not proofread

—

The school hallways were empty, considering everyone was in class which is where you were supposed to be. But you were bored, it was a substitute anyways, and you felt like taking a walk. It had only been maybe 10 minutes and you planned on being gone for maybe 15 minutes just to take up some time and make the remainder of class go by faster, so being all the way across the school you figured you’d make your way back and simply take your time.

That was your plan, anyways. And you were nearly there when something caught your eye.

Tate Langdon.

You saw him enter the boys bathroom with an expression on his face that you couldn’t read. You furrowed your brows in confusion and wonder at what he could be doing. You didn’t know him well, but you knew he was kind of a messed up kid. You didn’t judge him, but he often made you curious. There’d been many times you had caught him in an act of some kind of violence, from placing black tacks in the black chair that Mr May would sit in 5 minutes later, to taping a razor underneath Olivia Carter’s locker handle that would slice her fingers and end with her needing multiple stitches. Both times you’d been the only one to catch him, and both times you guys shared an intense stare but nothing more. You never told. And that earned you a safe spot in Tate’s messed up head. You minded your business and he did too.

And you knew this was one of those times to mind your own, but your curiosity got the best of you so you slowly made your way to the bathroom stopping at the door wondering whether it was a good idea or not to invade his privacy. It was the boys bathroom, after all. But fuck it, you thought.

You pushed the door open as quietly as you could and let yourself in, rounding the corner only to stop dead in your tracks at the sight in front of you.

Tate stood in front of the mirror, his arms over the sink and you had a perfect view of the razor in his hand pressing into his arm that already had 3 precious and obvious deep cuts that were bleeding down his arm and dripping into the sink. You stood wide eyed and the second he saw you through the mirror behind him, he shot you the nastiest flare possible.

“What are fuck are you doing in here?! Can’t read that this is the boys bathroom? Get out!” Tate practically screamed at you, but unfazed you stood still in your place, your eyes only taking in the image in front of you. It was one you had seen so many times before, but so weird seeing it on someone else arms rather than your own. “Are you listening to me? Leave, now!”

Your eyes flicker up to meet his angry ones and instead of listening to him, you make your way to him slowly, not once breaking the eye contact as you reach behind him grabbing a few paper towels, wetting them then cautiously bringing them to his arm that was still dripping blood. He only watched you in confusion, his anger shifting from you catching him to not understanding what you were doing or why you were being so nice to him. He was a freak, he thought.

You gently took ahold of his arm to better help you clean it up as carefully as you could. You dabbed and wiped up the bloodied mess that his arm was, finally wiping over the cuts and holding some pressure on them to stop the bleeding.

“These are really deep.” You state quietly.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” He questions. You finally look up at him again with a sincere look. He was staring at you more calm than before but still with a head spinning in confusion.

“I’ve been where you are. I still am, sometimes. I get it.” You say simply, looking away from him back to your hands as you lift the paper towel away to check if it was bleeding still. It was, so you place it back over again. “Sorry for whatever you’re battling that’s making you do this.”

Tate furrowed his eyebrows again. You were being so nice to him. So caring. He didn’t understand it. Definitely wasn’t used to it. He’s always been some mentally ill monster by his mother. He just figured at this point that everyone believed so also. You were different, he’s knew that for awhile but this was so far from what he was expecting. And as fucked up as it was, his appreciation towards you formed inside of him as a turn on. How else was he supposed to feel? His mom only ever screamed at him and made him feel worse. This feeling made him feel good. He wanted to show you in the only way he knew how.

“You know the school bathroom probably isn’t the best place for the privacy you need to do this-“ you were cut off mid sentence by Tate’s lips crashing onto yours, his hands quickly raking ahold of your waist and pulling you to him. You were caught so off guard that you didn’t even have time to process what was happening before he pulled himself away from you and looked down at you in confusion.

“Do you not want to do to?” He asks bluntly.

“I– sorry. I mean, I don’t.. why are you kissing me?” You definitely weren’t against it but with the situation being what it was it felt inappropriate, you needed to understand first. He was in a vulnerable position and you weren’t going to take advantage. You could also tell your reaction wasn’t what he was expecting, and you quickly realized that this was his gratitude towards your kindness. “Tate, you don’t have to have sex with me for helping you?” You spoke quietly, wanting him to understand that you didn’t expect anything in return, especially not sex, for being a genuine person.

He studied you for a moment, his mind racing with so many thoughts. Like mentioned before, this was the only way he knew how to show his appreciation. He wanted to, needed to.

So he drew closer to you, so close that your noses were touching just barely as you looked up at him and he looked down at you. The immediate tension between the two of you was not unnoticed either, his hands moving to brush the hair that fell on your face and tucking it behind your ears. You were still shocked, nervous now even.

“I don’t want to take advantage of you in your pain..” you whispered again, but he quickly shook his head which silenced you.

“I want to. I want you.” He spoke softly, reassuringly. Your breathing quickened as you studied him for any signs of doubt, but his intense and lustful stare never faltered.

You nodded and he took no time in grabbing your face pulling it back to his, this time returning the kiss and wrapping your arms around his neck while his made their way back to your hips, holding them tightly. You felt his tongue trace over your bottom lip for access and you granted it allowing his tongue to slide into your mouth as yours attempted to do the same but overpowered. The make our deepened and he took the chance to slide his hands down under your thighs and lift you up, your legs wrapping around his waist, carrying you over and placing you on the sink. You both knew you had to be quick, so you wasted no time in undoing his belt and unbuckling his pants, him sliding them down just enough to allow him to pull his dick out. He quickly hoisted your black skirt up and you moved your panties to the side. You hadn’t even realized how wet you already are, neither did Tate until he moved his hand to your heat and began rubbing your clit, groaning when he felt you dripping.

His other hand grabbed your ass and pulled you down so you weren’t even on the sink anymore but only being held by his body between your legs. You watched as he jerked himself a couple times before lining himself up at your entrance, your eyes rolling back when he slipped inside with ease. You both attempted to muffle your moans, your hands flying up to cling into his shoulders while his held your hips again. He began fucking you hard and quick, wanting to fulfill both of your needs in the short time you had. With every thrust it began getting harder to control the small moans that were escaping from your mouth, deciding to bite down on his shoulder for some control which only turned him on more. Tate sucked his bottom lip in between his teeth, his eyes flickering to the mirror in front of him, watching the scene unfold. It was fucking beautiful, seeing you spread open between him and your entire self clung to him as he fucked you. The sight itself could’ve made him cum. But he wanted you to first.

Quickly, he pulled himself out and spun you around so you were leant over the sink and he immediately thrusted himself back into you, your hands reaching forward to hold onto the faucet as the new position filled you up more and began hitting a special spot that had you wanting to scream his name. His hands snuck in front of you and made their way to your clit again, rubbing you just right.

“Look at yourself,” his words rang through your ears and you looked into the mirror, moaning at the picture you were seeing. His other hand traced up to your head, moving the side of your hair and taking ahold of the side of your neck where it met your shoulder and holding you in place, his eyes never leaving yours while he continued playing with your clit and thrusting into you hard. “You’re so pretty, watching me fuck you in the school bathroom.” He groaned and that was all you needed to send yourself over the edge, your organs causing your legs to begin shaking, nearly giving out but he held you up and with one last hard thrust he pulled out and let himself cum undone all over the floor. You watched in the mirror while coming down from your high, his hand on your waist tightly to keep you from falling. It was probably the hottest thing you’d ever seen.

After a minute, you pushed yourself up from the sink, his hand not leaving your waist. Both of your breaths were hard and shaky. He finally fixed his pants after shoving himself back in and buckling his belt while you fixed your skirt, looking in the mirror to make sure you looked like you didn’t just have sex in the bathroom.

“You look beautiful.” Tate’s words broke you from your outfit to meet his eyes that were watching you. You smiled almost embarrassed of yourself, but he moved himself so he was against your backside, wrapping his arms around you which allowed you to relax into his soft hold, leaning your head back against his that now rested on your shoulder.

“We’re gonna be in so much trouble.” You giggled, turning yourself around staying in his hold and wrapping your arms around his neck. He just smiled down at you and shrugged.

“Want to skip?” He suggested, your eyes lighting up at the idea.

“Let’s go.” You whispered, placing a soft kiss on his cheek and removing yourself from his hold and grabbing his hand as he followed you out of the bathroom, leaving the mess behind for the janitor.

[aealrizen]

It was well into the afternoon of the next day by the time the group reached the western gate of Eutoli. The remainder of the trip had been relatively uneventful compared to the day before, with only a short excursion with vulture bats leading the group into having an early and cheerful lunch. The crowd had noticed a group of them in the distance, and while Zeera had wanted to detour slightly to avoid them Ian instead offered to hunt the beasts for a fresh meal for everyone. The creatures were too large for most people to risk hunting them, attempts usually resulting in large injuries. But Ian’s sniper rifle was able to make short work of them from a safe distance, and sharing the resulting food with the group ended up solidifying the change in the opinion of most of the group towards the three cyborgs. Having been given an easy ride through brigands, and then fed fresh meat for lunch meant that a good portion of the group was cheerfully waving goodbye when they left them at the gate. An action that Ian and Whip gratefully returned as most of the group left to take care of their next jobs, leaving the rest to ride through the first gate to Eutoli.

The entrance to the last of the domed cities was similar to Andapos, with layers of heavy gates and security personnel separating the wastelands outside from the protected civilization inside. Those who had the proper paperwork for an extended stay were allowed to follow the trucks into the enclosed dock within the walls, locals directing the escorts to park the vehicles and showing the volunteers where to unload the different types of equipment. It was a streamlined process, each item being checked against the documents, and inspected for any potential hazards to either people or the internal environment.

Since Benjamin had filed their paperwork as people who were to help unload, Ian, Whip and Midas had to delay entering the city until all of the transported supplies were organized into their proper containers to be delivered to their end destinations. It wasn’t hard work, especially since they were all capable of easily lifting way more than the average person. A feat that earned a chorus of surprised noises from the locals, which soon turned into amused chuckling and compliments.

Midas found it was hard to completely focus on his work, even if the machines he was helping to unload were interesting to look at and consider their potential functions. There was an odd smell that permeated the air ever since they’d passed through the first gateway. Rich, heavy, and settling in the back of his nose, practically resting on his tongue. Foreign, yet not. And Whip ended up sputtering a small chuckle when he caught Midas absently smelling his own arm while setting a broken generator down on a conveyor.

“What are you doing?” Whip asked, the mirth still in his voice as Midas raised his head to smell the air again.

“I’m trying to figure out what that smell is,” Midas admitted, brows scrunched in confusion.

“Sme- oh,” Whip started to repeat before he realized exactly what Midas was talking about. Right, as far as the kid’s active memory knew this was the first time he’d been to Eutoli. Which meant he’d definitely notice the one thing that marked Eutoli different from the other cities. “It’s the plants.”

“What?” Midas asked, brow furrowing more. He couldn’t even see any plants in here. Well, except maybe the little desk ivy one of the security personnel had. Surely that wasn’t the cause of such an all consuming scent that permeated the entire garage.

“On the other side of that wall are the open fields and forests of Eutoli. When you get so many plants clustered together everything smells different,” Whip explained, spreading his hands in front of him slightly after gesturing to the wall the conveyors were leading through.

The face Midas gave Whip betrayed that he didn’t quite understand or believe what Whip was saying, but Whip could only chuckle. “C’mon, we’re almost done. Let’s just finish up and go see for ourselves, okay?” Whip prompted, gesturing to the last truck that only had a few more items in it.

It seemed this was a common enough occurrence that the people of Eutoli had learned how to heavily streamline the unloading process. Something Midas found he was grateful for as it was becoming increasingly harder to focus on anything in particular. He just wanted to run through the last gateway and see the city for himself. See if there was anything at all that triggered some of his memories to return. Maybe even catch sight of that cathedral that had been in the database in Mortenheim. He figured that could be his starting point. Just find the cathedral and work out from there. Someone had to know something, right? It wasn’t just baseless hope that he had.

Soon enough they were standing at the last checkpoint before being allowed into the city, and Midas didn’t notice at all how the employee gave him a confused expression when Ian was the one to hand him their papers and passes. Nor did he notice when the guard stamped the passes and let them through with a “Welcome back,” comment instead of “Welcome to Eutoli,” like he had with the others who had permission to stay longer. A comment that made Whip frown slightly, but after looking at Midas and how absent the lad’s expression looked, he didn’t voice any of the questions in his mind. Surely if the guard knew Midas he would have said something, yeah? Maybe they just had a record of Ian or Whip having been there before, and that had prompted the change in greeting, as well as the way people seemed significantly less concerned with their foreign presence than with others that had been there.

The questions in Whip’s mind were decidedly filed away for later considering there was an entire city of people they could talk to just beyond the next set of doors. They could come back to the security worker as a last resort, and not hang up the line asking odd questions that would make his job harder.

It wasn’t the first time Ian or Whip had walked through the last set of doors leading to the inner city of Eutoli. But it had certainly been a long time, and the view was just as breathtaking. Frosted glass doors opening to rolling slopes of green as far as the eye could see. A humid breeze pushing into their faces as Midas sucked in a gasp and absently rushed ahead a few steps, running to the edge of the patio and onto the slightly shaggy wild grass. It was completely different from the other cities. Where Andapos opened into concrete streets and tall buildings painted with cool blues and artificial browns, and Cerah’s pale streets picked into sterile cleanliness by machines boasted the presence of humans, Eutoli was predominantly green and full of texture. Cascading hills of grass led into fields of wildflowers right next to steps of rice paddies leading into farmlands that intermingled with orchards flowing into towering forests. Anything that wasn’t green was dirty brown or irregular grey from unshaped stones. Even the city of humans looked less like a city and more like countryside houses built around the natural curves of trees and hills instead of clearing the way for structures. And the only ones that remained functional were small. Any towers of glass had long since fallen to rest and be reclaimed by the precious foliage that Eutoli now coveted.

Midas stared in stunned silence for a stretch of time, his eyes scanning the entirety of the world inside the dome that contained its own clouds. Everything looked remarkably unremarkable. Everything was new, yet just as it should be. The rustle of wind in the leaves and grass, and a hustle of sounds from living creatures that weren’t human. A pocket of fairytale forest wrapped up in a protective shield of technology keeping it separate from the wastelands outside. Such a peaceful place that warranted a sense of serenity.

Which meant that Midas’ sudden exclamation was a lot quieter than he usually was. “Rice fields!” Midas suddenly gasped when he noticed them, raising a hand to point while glancing back at Whip and Ian before he started sprinting down the hills towards them.

There were no pathways that weren’t overgrown. People here didn’t like to trample the ground into barrenness. So the grass whisked past their legs as Ian and Whip gave startled noises before quickly following Midas’ path to the flooded paddies. It took less than thirty minutes for them to reach them, the green stalks of rice only being so easily identifiable because of the blanket of water they rested in. And when they reached the edge of one of the pools Midas paused only for a moment, just long enough to raise one foot at a time to yank the boots off his feet before he splashed into the clear water.

“I’ve always wanted to do this,” Midas commented, a little breathless as he started almost shuffle walking along the channels between the sections of rice. “The mud under the water is so soft, just like they said it was. Because they keep fish in the water too, and if you stand still they’ll sometimes come and - snrk- nibble your legs.” The explanation came through barely smothered excitement as Midas wandered a little further away before he forced himself to stop, standing still as he said to and almost immediately getting the small carp to swim out from the rice and bump against his calves, causing him to snicker and giggle. And as he kept looking back at the other two, Ian and Whip exchanged a look with each other.

They were hesitant at first, not sure if they would get in trouble for just walking into the rice paddies without permission. But no one was yelling at them, or running to tell them off. There was even a woman with a wide hat that looked to them, but only raised a hand in a pleasant wave before she continued wading through the fields, checking on the plants and fish. It was enough to convince Whip and Ian that it was okay for them to follow Midas’ beckons to join him, taking their own shoes off and stepping into the surprisingly cool water. The mud at the bottom squishing between his toes earned a snicker from Whip as he suddenly understood why Midas had been so excited to get his feet in the water. And Ian found the cool water and resident fish paying him no mind to be strangely calming. It was easy to catch up to Midas, and they ended up falling silent as the lad started to babble facts about the farming methods there, all of them holding their shoes out of the water as they aimlessly wandered the fields.

“They raise fish in the paddies because they can be used as food, but also because they act as natural pesticides for bugs and snails that are harmful for the rice. So they’re able to grow more healthy plants since they don’t have to worry about chemical pesticides.” Midas’ sounded proud to know what he did about the rice fields, happily sloshing through the rows and rows of crop while looking at the fish, the plants, the small birds that would land on the plants from time to time to eat the seeds and the bugs. “The fish make for a great dinner too. I think they have carp and also tilapia, which is really good with lemon- Ah! I’ve had lemon carp before!” The realization caused Midas to abruptly turn around to face Whip and Ian, a huge smile lighting his eyes as he realized it wasn’t because he was regurgitating an encyclopedia that he knew all that he was saying. He could remember having a whole, braised fish for dinner before, seasoned with lemon juice and herbs. He was about to ask if they could look for a place to get some for dinner that night, but Whip suddenly reached out to caution Midas as he continued walking backwards.

“Ah, Midas look out!” Whip called hurriedly, moving forward to try and grab Midas before he stepped back further. There was someone behind Midas, hunched over in the fields catching some of the fish and putting them in a basket. A huge straw hat was blocking their features, and Midas seemed to be paying less attention to his surroundings now that he was thinking about the fish. Whip ended up too late in his warning, but thankfully the girl broke out of her working trance soon enough to stumble out of the way with only a slight bump from the distracted lad. She gave a tiny yelp as Midas bumped into her, but didn’t seem too upset.

“Sorry!” Midas immediately blurted, dropping his shoe and reaching out to catch the girl’s arm to keep her steady. As she raised her head, Whip noticed quite the length of blonde hair tied in two braids pinned up where they wouldn’t dangle in the water, and strikingly blue eyes above faintly freckled cheeks. She must have been only a teenager, and incredibly shy since she had yet to say anything.

At first Ian thought it was just because she wasn’t used to seeing strangers, but then he noticed how her expression changed from anxious surprise to open shock. And after that Ian was quick to notice Midas had frozen as well, staring at the girl’s face in frozen silence as his mind screamed empty thoughts at him. His grip on her arm went slack, and she raised her hands to cover her mouth in a smothered inhale.

“......Meri?” Midas suddenly asked, the word sounding foreign to his ears but right in his mind, his eyes still openly staring at the girl.

She didn’t respond verbally, the hands covering her mouth starting to shake before she suddenly gasped, turning around to run in the opposite direction in borderline panic, leaving her basket behind without a second glance.

“Ah, wait!” Whip called out, stumbling forward to try and grab the girl and keep her from running. Meri? Was that her name? Did she and Midas know each other? She couldn’t just run away and not say anything. Why did she look so scared?

And yet it was Midas who reached out an arm to block Whip’s path, holding him back. “Don’t. You’ll just… scare her- she’s very… shy…?” Midas cautioned, his comments as broken and the headache scramble of thoughts flooding his mind, causing him to raise a hand to his temple and squint an eye. There were broken pieces of images in his mind. A little girl with a stuffed bear that she always carried with her, hiding half her face as she peeked over the top of it. Knowing that she always spoke incredibly quiet, often not saying anything at all, especially in crowds. Her name was Meri. He was pretty sure it was Meri. But… he couldn’t sort through the other thoughts to remember who she was exactly. Was she someone’s sister? A daughter definitely, but to who? She was friends with… who again? There were so many faces popping into his head now. Some didn’t seem to fit, some came to mind without a reason to be there. It was like shortly after he first woke up. Everything dumped into his mind like a trash bin with no organization, and the labels all ripped, faded, or missing completely and potentially replaced by something else. It was headache inducing, and he winced as he dropped his other shoe in favor of holding his head with both hands.

“Midas?” Ian prompted, concern saturating his voice that was deliberately kept quiet as he moved forward to lean down in front of Midas, hands resting on the lad’s shoulders gently.

“Give me a minute,” Midas requested in almost a whisper, leaning forward to bump his head against Ian’s chest and taking advantage of the semi shade he was providing. “Too much. Just… give me a minute.”

He sounded pained and overwhelmed, so Ian just relented to wait, and keep him close. “Okay. Take your time,” he bid quietly, keeping an eye on only Midas now as Whip took the role of watching their environment.

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First

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Forget the 1500 word limit I'm too excited to post all of this at once ahhhhh X'DDDD