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#Not going into details because No but really!
innuendostudios · 2 days
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New Alt-Right Playbook! This one's on spurious claims and how they don't even need to be ARTICULATED to follow you around.
If you wanna keep this series coming out (and maybe help it come out a little faster) do please consider backing me on Patreon or subscribing to me on Nebula.
Transcript below the cut.
Say, for the sake of argument, you are the kind of progressive leftist with a platform who gets a share of harassment - seasonal or perennial - from reactionaries. In this situation, you will, inevitably, hear one who positions themself as a reasonable moderate ask, “Why Don’t You Respond To Criticism?”
There’s a lot going on in that question, more than is obvious, and it’s worth understanding.
First is that the question is not only directed at you. It exists as a marker, showing up in your Q&A’s, comment sections, or Twitter threads, to imply to anyone paying attention to you that there is some wealth of legitimate criticism you have long ignored. There may well be a specific point this person is referring to, but it’s often left unspecified or generalized, so that the content - and the quantity - of the criticism is left to audience imagination. It is meant to publicly undermine your legitimacy.
Second, it’s meant to make you question whether there is some legitimate criticism out there in the din of people screaming at you. You’re not perfect, and a knock-on effect of being harassed is you get numbed out, unable to discern good faith from bad, often removing yourself from the streams through which your peers used to correct you because of the endless flow of garbage coming through those channels now. But the only way to verify the ambiguous claim that there is criticism worth responding to is to once again strap on waders and climb in, which is often what your critic really wants.
Third, the question isn’t really “why don’t you respond to criticism?” Odds are, you do respond to some criticism. People in your position are often addressing or pre-empting criticism all the time, arguably too much. No, what this nonspecific question is really asking is, “Why don’t you respond to my criticism?” They’ll let it sound like you’ve been ignoring everyone, but they mean “why are you ignoring me?” They are going to insist you owe them a response, that their critique, regardless of your opinion of it, is valid, and demands immediate attention. Odds are there are dozens of people saying the same, all at once.
Fourth, odds are good that you have, in fact, addressed their specific complaint, but not in a manner they will accept. This one person’s criticism is likely not unique, you may have covered it somewhere in your output purely because you know what kind of arguments are getting thrown at you and you want to cover your bases. There’s a decent chance your critic doesn’t actually consume enough of your work to have seen it. But it’s maybe even more likely that they are aware of your counter-argument - possibly one of your fans directed them to it - but don’t consider a response legitimate unless it is directed at the critic. Covering it in a different context or on a different platform doesn’t count. They are owed a statement they can respond to directly, because they want the argument to continue. Really, the question is, “Why don’t you respond to my criticism on my terms?”
Finally, even if you did respond to them by name, it’s likely your response would still be disqualified. If you were to summarize their argument in any way, they would claim you are building a straw man. If you isolated any specific critique, or pointed to the cruelty that accompanied it, they would claim you’re cherry-picking. You must, it seems, first present the criticism, full and unabridged, before you may respond to it. Which is to say: the only “correct” way to respond to criticism is to platform the critic.
And there are dozens who expect this of you. Who will tear into you for not addressing, in meticulous detail, every single critique they’ve ever tossed your way, and, in the same breath, make fun of you for talking too much. Because they don’t want to move on from “Why Don’t You Respond to Criticism?” As a rhetorical tactic, it’s pretty ace. To announce, before the argument is even stated, that it is thus far undefeated? ::chef’s kiss:: Because any response you make will keep the focus on you and not their argument. “It’s not worth responding to.” “Well why should The Accused get to decide what is and isn’t worth responding to?” “I have responded, repeatedly.” “Well why didn’t you respond in this particular way?” None of this looks at whether the argument had any credibility to begin with, only at whether your rebuttal is following procedure.
Take, for example, the hypothetical criticism that you should not listen to me because I am just four eels in a trenchcoat. How would I respond to that? What can I say that isn’t exactly what four eels in a trenchcoat would say? “I’m not even wearing a trenchcoat”? Well, the first thing four eels would do when people start to catch on is wear hoodies. Show my birth certificate, saying I was born a single entity to a human mother at a weight four newborn eels wouldn’t add up to? Well, did that work for Obama? Or did the guy saying the birth certificate was fake get elected President? And, of course, anything I have to say about how fascism has evolved on the social internet is suspect if I can’t even prove I’m human. What do fish know?? We stayed at war with Iraq for seven years after the government announced the Weapons of Mass Destruction we were looking for never existed, and some people, to this day, still think we found them. What hope would I - a warm-blooded mammal who would make very mediocre sushi - stand in the face of that? [bell chime]
So, if you ever see this claim out in the wild, “why haven’t you responded to _____,” ask: do you know what _____ is, do you yourself agree it’s a valid question, and are you sure it hasn’t already been answered? And don’t repeat the question unless you’ve got three yesses.
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thinkinonsense · 6 hours
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i just listened to sabrina's new album and oh my god the song slim pickins is such a song that was written from daydreaming about lumberjack!logan, oh and the recent fic that you reblogged was just so yummy and perfect for that song especially the lyrics "a boy who's jacked and nice" like god having to settle down for less because nobody can be him 😭😭😭 need him expeditiously im afraid
it's slim pickins
lumberjack!logan howlett x fem!reader
cw: yearning!! fluff, tiny nsfw conversation (nothing graphic)
a/n: this request couldn't have come in at a better time because i'm seeing sabrina on opening night of her tour tomorrow night!! <3
masterlist
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"am i just destined to be alone forever?"
another friday night in the hole in the wall bar outside of town. another date gone horribly wrong. your question hangs heavy in the air as you gossip to your best friend who's bartending tonight.
"you keep picking douche bags." she answers without missing a beat.
"well, that's fuckin' rude." you slur slightly, sipping on your third fruity drink tonight.
"well, it's fuckin' true." she smiles, looking over your shoulder at a group of men that walked in. "why don't you go talk to one of them? they look hot."
you spin around in your stool to see a group of lumberjack workers. these were the men that you worked with, you can't flirt with them.
"i work with those guys!" you hiss.
"sooo...?" she smirks.
both of you quickly end the conversation with the five guys approach the bar. the last thing you needed was for these guys to see the desperate and pathetic look on your face. quickly, you rummage through your purse for some cash to put down.
"what are you doing here, doll face?" a familiar voice asks.
you look up and see the most handsome of the men, in front of you; logan. twice your size, buff, toned, tan... god, you had such a crush on him. never in a million years would you go after him though, he's too good to want a girl like you. you were just a friend. he make small talk with you, laughed at your jokes, calls you little nicknames, and refills the coffee pot for you but thats what friends do, right?
"oh... um, i'm just-"
"she's been sitting here moaning and bitching to me all night about her horrible date." your best friend smiles then introduces herself to logan with a handshake.
"thanks asshole." you mumble under your breath at her, making logan chuckle.
"tough night?" he asks, looking down at you in a way that makes heat rises up your face.
"kinda, but i'll save you all the gory details." you admit, sliding off the tall stool a little ungracefully. "have a good night, logan."
"wait, doll face." he says, grabbing your arm to balance you. "wanna talk about it? i'm sure your friend here is busy."
the alcohol let him take you to one of the booths. all the other men noticed logan and you sitting together, definitely making mental notes to tease you both on monday.
"so, what's on your mind?" logan asks, taking a swig of his beer.
"it's nothing really..." your mouth says one thing but your phone says another; practically buzzing off the table.
"you sure?" he raises a brow.
"uh... yeah?" you sound confused as you peak at the notification. an annoyed groan falls from your lips as you slam the phone back down and sink into the booth. "why? why? why?"
"why what?" he squints.
"be honest, do i have dumbass written on my forehead?" you sigh, hazily looking over at logan. the question threw him off guard; unsure if you're joking or not.
"no." he answers.
" well, i sure feel like one. every guy i've gone out with is either the most obnoxious asshole i've ever met who's still hung up on his ex or he's absolutely perfect but he's just not ready for a commitment right now? what the fuck does that even mean?"
all of your drunk rambling surprised logan. at work, he's only seen your shy personality as you scribble down numbers and log them into spreadsheets. this was a completely different side of you.
"i know what you're thinking, 'why not just try dating a woman?'. well, i fucking would if this town wasn't stuck in the 50's, except the men aren't going to war in order to get away from you, instead they just run back in between their ex's thighs and pull that 'it's not you, it's me' bullshit."
it was getting harder for logan not to crack at your silly yet, adorable expressions as you rant.
"and the worst part is that they can't even get a woman to orgasm." you say a little quieter. logan stores that quote in his pocket for another time. "a few weeks ago, i literally had a man in my bed who didn't know the difference between their, there, and they're! i don't know who's stupider, him for not knowing or me for letting him give me the worst head in my life."
if you were even a little sober, this would be mortifying. sitting in front of your work crush and spilling pathetic details of your love life to him. if you were even a little sober, you would have notice his eyes turn dark and lustful under the dim bar lighting. logan couldn’t fathom that you were having trouble in your love life.
"sounds like it's slim pickins out there."
"you have no idea." you sigh.
"if it makes you feel any better, i don't think that you're stupid."
"you're just saying that to be polite. trust me, everyone thinks i'm an idiot for taking these guys back every time. im just like my mom, my sisters, my friends, and every other girl i know. we make up excuses for their shitty behavior because we are afraid to be alone."
logan could see tears forming in your waterline, about to roll down your cheek. it hurt him to see you so heartbroken over these losers. everyday at work, you came in like a ray of fucking sunshine. you didn't deserve to be treated like this.
"it's not your fault that those asshole don't know how to treat a woman." he sighs, leaning forward in an attempt to comfort you.
"i know, i know..." your voice was cracking and you didn't want logan to see you so vulnerable. suddenly, you rise from the booth. "thanks for listening, logan."
"where do you think you're going, doll face?" he asks, following you out the door.
"should head home." you mumble, pulling up the number of a car service about twenty minutes out.
"let me give you a ride home." he offers. "you've been drinking too much."
it's late, you're exhausted and heartbroken so, you let him help you into his truck. it's kinda old but full of character, like logan.
"what's going on in that pretty head of yours?" logan asks, breaking the silence in the car. "still sad?"
you shrug. "think i'm just going to become a nun."
he tried, he really did, but he had to laugh.
"sweetheart, there's no need to become a nun."
"well, i'm never going to find the man i'm looking for so, might as well join the sisterhood."
"what are you looking for in this dream man?"
logan's question has your eyes wondering over to where his left hand sets on the wheel and his right on thigh. the images of what his hands could do flood your fuzzy mind.
"j-just a good guy who's um, who's kind, jacked... respectful, good with his hands...."
it was shameless, your staring that is. logan worried you might get drool on the car seat, not that he would mind.
"hm... those seem like simple requirements there."
"apparently not." you giggle. "it's fine, though. i'm sure the nuns will be friendly."
"still thinking about joining the 'sisterhood'?" he asks, pulling up to your drive way.
"maybe... i'll give it twenty-four hours and if he doesn't come knocking on my door, i'll just buy a chasity belt and go off the grid with the nuns." your smile warmed his cold bitter heart. "thanks for the ride, lo. i'll see you monday."
as logan watches you fumble with your keys and make your way inside, he fights an internal battle over his feelings. he has had a crush on you since the day the two of you first met. by the end of the week, you had baked him some cupcakes, babbling about how you do this for all the new employees, which was far from the truth he later learned.
you captured his heart. even when he tried to burry his feelings for you, when logan looked at you, his world stood still for a moment. he looked forward to all your silly jokes in the break room or the ridiculous gossip you would tell him when he lingered outside of your office door. he couldn't let you slip away into the arms of another asshole who didn't deserve you.
before logan could comprehend what he was doing, his feet lead him up to your door, knocking twice. the wooden door opened and he knew he made the right decision.
there you were in your light blue and grey plaid pajamas with a cupcake in your hand and vanilla frosting on your bottom lip. logan had never seen you look prettier.
"hey? did i leave something in the–"
in the blink of an eye, logan’s hands reach up to caress your jaw, leaning in until his mouth engulfs yours. the taste of vanilla and alcohol surrounded both of you. forgetting the cupcake in your hand, dropping it to reach up and pull logan closer. kissing him was like drinking a glass of wine after a long day. no more stress or anxiety over anyone else’s bullshit. the two of you gasp against each others lips, catching your breath.
“i could be the good guy, you know?” logan pants, now forever addicted to your taste. “i could be the good guy for you.”
your heart fluttered as you stared up at his pretty hazel eyes, twirling a piece of his hair around your finger. this had to be a very realistic dream, thats the only answer to this.
“you would do that for me, logan?” your delicate voice could bring him to his knees, worshiping the ground you walk on.
“i would do anything for you, honey.” he whispers, leaning back in to kiss you again. maybe your dream guy wasn't as far away as you thought?
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juniperskye · 2 days
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That’ll Show Them.
Based on the following ask: 🥰 yay!! Okay. (Deep breath), so the idea was basically either preschool or elementary school setting. Hotch being a sexy single dad has most of the single (and not!) Moms drooling over him. Y/N or Reader is a single mom, not one of those drooling but definitely sees that he's attractive. But her kid (girl or boy) happens to quickly become Jack's BFF and this causes natural interactions and conversations between her and Hotch over the next few weeks which makes the other moms salty and jealous, and she overhears them at one point speculating that she probably told her kid to befriend Jack just so she could get closer to Hotch. I didn't really think of an ending for it but just had an idea of a scene where she's trying to remain calm and unaffected while overhearing them talking about her and giving side eye. Maybe Hotch hears it too and comes to her defense? Or makes them even saltier by asking her out in front of them? 😈 @nyxwolph thank you for requesting this! I did adjust a little bit, so I hope you like it!!
Aaron Hotchner x Single Mom! Reader
Angst/Fluff
Word count: 3569
REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!
Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, some explicit language, reader is a single mom, mention of divorce, school moms being shitty, mention of Hotch’s ex father-in-law being ill, no use of y/n, Fem reader, reader has no physical description other than being shorter than hotch, reader is mentioned/implied to own a shop (no details), gay best friend, Hotch starts work at 8am (idk what the BAU hours are lmao) let me know if I missed any!
I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.
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The moms were ruthless. You were barely three months into the school year and already you had been completely ostracized from the “mom group.” Part of you had assumed it was because the majority of these moms had all caught wind of your very public, messy divorce. The other part of you, however, knew that the main reason you’d been exiled was him.
Aaron HOTTIE Hotchner, as the other moms called him, had taken Ms. Jenson’s third grade class by storm. Meet the teacher night had been a frenzy of horny moms all praying their child ended up in the same class as Aaron’s son. There were hushed conversations and giggles, and hair flips all night long, you had felt bad for the teachers since their presentations had fallen second to the gossip travelling through the halls about the hot single dad.
“I heard he works for the FBI!”
“I heard he’s a widower. Could you even imagine?”
“Wow. He must be pretty amazing, a single dad and working for the FBI!”
“Can we be real for a moment and just admire how hot he is?”
“Did you see his hands?”
“Yes! Did you see his suit? I love a well-dressed man.”
They were vultures, every single one of them, and Aaron was their newest victim. He, of course, had been completely oblivious to the blatant flirting – he returned every advance they made with a kind smile or polite nod. And listen, you weren’t going to deny that Aaron was hot…you just weren’t trying to be like those other moms and gush about it at meet the teacher night.
Your being excluded by the class moms had only gotten worse since Jack and Millie had become friends. Millie had told you on the first day of school, that a boy had pushed her down on the playground, and before you could panic, she told you that a different boy…one named Jack…had helped her up. She said after that, they sat together at lunch and read aloud.
You could barely contain you excitement. Since the divorce, Millie had been having a tough time making friends – mainly because the moms told their kids to stay away. Your ex had been quite cozy with some of the moms at Millie’s last school and you had eventually found out he was sleeping with one of them. Once the divorce was finalized and you had full custody, you’d moved and that meant a new school for Millie.
Realistically that should’ve been the end of the drama, but it just so happens that the girl who your husband slept with…well her sister’s child was in the same class as Millie. He of course was the kid that pushed Millie down on the first day of school.
It shouldn’t have bothered you, their constant whispers…but it had you seething. This was an everyday occurrence now that you drove Jack home. The moms all waiting for dismissal engaging in hushed conversations about how desperate you must be.
“I bet she told her daughter to befriend his son.”
“What a sad way to get his attention.”
“Well, I mean, her ex did cheat…so she’s probably desperate.”
“She’s ridiculous if you ask me.”
This new development has begun exactly two weeks ago. Jack and Millie had been on their sixth playdate – this had been the first one Aaron had been able to host (due to work obvi) which had led to you staying and the two of you talking about how demanding his work schedule must be. He had told you it kept him pretty busy and that his sister-in-law had been extremely helpful, but with her father falling ill, she was growing increasingly busy.
“You know, I could drive Jack. If you’re comfortable with it.” You offered.
“I couldn’t possibly ask that of you!” Aaron panicked.
“It’s a good thing you didn’t ask…I’m offering. I already have to drive to the school to get Millie, I could grab Jack and the two of them could hang out until you are off work. And if your sister-in-law ever can’t watch him while you’re away, know that I am more than willing.” You punctuated with a kind smile.
“What if I take them to school, I don’t need to be at work until eight, and then you could pick them up? That way it is even. Obviously when I’m out of town, which wouldn’t necessarily be possible, but I could coordinate with Jess and…” Aaron was spiraling.
“Aaron. If you want to take them to school when you’re in town, that would be great. That would allow me the time I need in the shop before opening. When you are out of town, if Jack is staying with me, I will take them to and from school – if he’s with Jess, she doesn’t have to worry about Millie okay?” You suggested.
“You’re a godsend. You know that?” Aaron said, a smile growing on his face.
“Yeah well, Jack has been an incredible friend to Millie, and I would love for them to spend more time together. Plus, the house has been so quiet and, I don’t know. It would be nice to have the kids there.” There was a slight cringe that was brought with the insinuation of your divorce.
“I appreciate it either way.” Aaron gently nudged your shoulder.
So, for the last two weeks, Aaron had been driving the kids to school and you had been picking them up. He shockingly had yet to be called on a case…but you knew it was only a matter of time.
Aaron was called away a few days later, he had let you know that Jess would be watching Jack. That had sent a tinge of pain right to your heart. In truth, you were attracted to Aaron, and the more time you spent with him, you were starting to fall for him. You tried not to focus too much on the fact that he’d sent Jack to stay with Jess…chalking up to the fact that Aaron probably didn’t want to burden you – even though he could never.
You didn’t hear from Aaron until nearly two weeks later.
A: Hey, we just got back from this case. I’ll pick Millie up in the morning for school. Are you good to pick up Jack after?
Y: Hey! Yeah I can pick them up tomorrow. I have to take Millie to get her cleats and shin guards for soccer, is it okay if Jack tags along?
A: I totally forgot soccer starts next weekend. If I sent some money in Jack’s backpack could you pick up his stuff too?
Y: Of course! Will you be late tomorrow?
A: Probably, after a case like this, there’s a lot of paperwork to be done. I will try to be there by 7pm if that’s okay.
Y: 7 is fine, we will get homework done and I will feed them and have Jack all ready for you!
A: Thank you. Seriously I don’t know what I’d do without you.
The next day you arrived at the school at 2:45 pm to pick up the kids. You parked your car like always and stood in wait with the other parents. You were checking your phone to see where the nearest sporting goods store was when one of the dads approached you.
“Hey, is Millie ready for soccer to start?”
“Oh, hey Scott! Yeah she is so excited! What about Macy?” You questioned.
“She’s nervous, but she told me she was glad Millie and Jack were playing too. Michael was really bummed that the girls weren’t in a class together this year.” Scott explained.
“I was too! How is Michael? We should all have dinner some time!” You suggested.
“He’s good, and I am sure he would love to have you and your new beau over for a meal – I will talk to him when we get home!” Scott beamed.
“New beau…what are you talking about? Do you mean Aaron? He and I, we’re not…” You stuttered.
“Don’t worry, it’s okay! You should be bragging to all those bitches that you bagged the hot DILF! Don’t let them spoil something good for you hon.” Scott gently squeezed your arm.
Just as you opened your mouth to reply, the kids came running out. Macy ran to hug her dad while Jack and Millie made their way to you. Both kids hugged you and then said their goodbyes to Macy. You moved to grab their hands and guide them to the car, but not without catching the glares from all the moms. They must’ve heard Scott and you talking…and while you and Aaron weren’t dating, it didn’t hurt to let them believe it for a bit.
After getting the kids soccer gear, you took them home and got them started on their homework and gave them some apple slices. You checked a few emails, changed the washer and dryer, and wrote up your grocery list in the meantime.
When they were done with their homework, you checked their work and then quizzed them on their spelling words. By then it was nearly 5:30 pm, you set the two of them up in the living room with a coloring book and some Legos while you got dinner started. You made some grilled chicken, mashed potatoes, and green beans – for the kids, you added some cheese to the potatoes and cut up the chicken – setting that on the table for them alongside a glass of chocolate milk.
“Kids, time for dinner!” You hollered.
“Coming mom!” Millie called.
You were about 10 minutes into dinner when a knock sounded from the front door. You excused yourself and walked over to let Aaron in.
“Hey, we were just having dinner, can I get you a plate?” You offered.
“Oh, as long as it’s not an imposition!” Aaron replied.
“Aaron, how many times do I have to tell you that it’s not an imposition. I like having you around.” You stopped abruptly, embarrassed that you’d let that slip. “I mean, you know, it’s nice that Millie and Jack are friends…I uh. I…”
“I know what you mean. And I like having you around too.” He said, finally stepping fully into the house.
Aaron placed a gentle hand on the small of your back to guide you toward the kitchen. You plated him up some food and he joined you at the table, sitting right beside you. You couldn’t help the growing heat that bloomed on your cheeks as his arm brushed against your own. The room was filled with the playful chatter of the eight-year-olds that sat across from you, giggles escaping them as they recounted the events of their day at school.
Glancing over, you noticed the joy radiating from Aaron’s expression. You hadn’t seen him this genuinely happy in all the time you’ve known him, and you wonder if it is because he doesn’t get to relax like this often. The thought allows your mind to drift even further – splaying images of cooking for the four of you all the time, of late nights cuddled with Aaron and even further into the future, welcoming a new child to the family you’ve curated…only it's all in your head.
“You alright?” Aaron whispers. His warm breath against your ear causes a chill to cascade across your skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake.
“Yeah, I’m good. Sorry, just lost in thought.”
“Hey mom, is Jack’s dad going to be my new dad?” Millie posed, causing you to choke on the bite of chicken you’d just taken.
“Woah, sweetheart you’re okay, just breathe!” Aaron patted your back gently. “Here, take a sip of water.”
Taking a swig, the chicken makes its way down. “Mills…baby where did you get that idea?”
“Well Rain said that his mom said that you were moving in on Jack’s dad, and I thought that if we were moving in, then that would make him my new dad!” Millie smiled.
It was Aaron who choked this time, only it was on his water, causing some of it to certainly escape through his nose. He pulled his napkin to his face as he coughed in an attempt to clear his airway.
“Aar…breathe.” You returned the favor of patting him gently on the back. “Are you okay?”
He answered with a nod and allowed a chuckle to escape his mouth before looking up to meet your gaze. Aaron wasn’t ignorant of the fact that the other moms had been eyeing him since the beginning of the year, he just hadn’t realized that they’d gone after you due to your budding closeness.
“Millie, Rain’s mom is just kidding. Jack’s dad and I are becoming good friends, like you and Jack, and they don’t like that, so they’re saying some not so nice things.” You explained.
“Oh…okay.” Millie said, a small pout gracing her features.
A pout that pulled on not only yours, but also Aaron’s heartstrings. He allowed himself a glance in your direction and took careful note of the hurt and disappointment that flashed across your own features briefly. Was it possible you felt more than you were letting on?
Six days later you received a call at four in the morning. It hadn’t been the thing to wake you up, but it came as a surprise, nonetheless.
“Hello?”
“Hey, I just got a call about a time sensitive case and Jess is dealing with her dad. Would you mind taking Jack while I am away?”
“Aaron, of course! Do you need me to come and get him?”
“No, I will get a bag together for him and drop him off on my way to the office. I am going to leave you with a key to my place just in case Jack needs anything. Thank you for doing this, seriously it means a lot.”
“It’s really not a problem, I will have a bed made up for him by the time you get here.”
“Thanks sweetheart, see you soon.”
With that, Aaron hung up, and for the second time you were taken by surprise at the pet name he so casually referred to you by. You had to remind yourself not to swoon. It wouldn’t do you any good to get into your thoughts about the meaning behind his slip of the tongue.
Jack Hotchner was the most wonderful child you have the privilege of knowing – aside from Millie of course. He was polite and he listened with no pushback. He helped Millie with her chores (cleaning up her toys and putting her clothes in the laundry basket), he didn’t complain, and he just exuded this kindness and joy that brought an extra bit of warmth to your home.
You could see Millie becoming attached and you feared her heart would break once Jack had to go back home. You only hoped that she’d understand that although Jack’s presence isn’t currently permanent, they’d still get to see each other all the time.
Jack stayed with you for five nights, Aaron surprised you all by showing up with a pizza on Saturday evening.
The three of you had been cuddled up on the couch watching Inside Out 2 when the doorbell rang. You shuffled over to the door in your sweats and fuzzy socks to see Aaron standing there in a quarter zip and jeans. Good God, he’s never looked so good.
“Aaron!” You couldn’t hide your excitement.
“Surprise! I brought pizza, I hope cheese is okay.” He inquired.
“Cheese is perfect.” You confirmed. “Kids, dinner is here!”
“Dad!”
Jack ran to embrace his father. Millie, however, stormed off to her room. You were quick to throw Aaron an apologetic glance, before following her down the hall.
“Mills…what’s wrong honey?”
Millie replied with a grumble in her pillow and a shake of her head.
“Baby, I can’t help if you don’t tell me.”
“It’s not fair. Jack doesn’t have a mom, and I don’t have a dad. But when you and Mr. Aaron are together it feels like a normal family. How come you guys can’t just be together?” Millie cried.
“Oh, honey. It’s not that simple bug. Mr. Aaron, well he’s a busy man and I just…” You trailed off.
“Don’t you like him?”
“Mills, yeah I like him, but like I said, it’s not that simple. Even if he liked me back, that wouldn’t just make us a family, it would take some time for us to get serious and then we’d have to decide if that was the right step for us.”
“It is the right step! You guys like each other, and Jack and I get along…mommy it’s perfect! You could be Jack’s mom and Mr. Aaron could be my new dad.” Millie said matter-of-factly.
“Oh honey, is this about your dad?” You pulled Millie into a hug.
“No! He wasn’t nice to me like Mr. Aaron is. Mom I want Mr. Aaron to be my dad.” She whispered as tears stained her cheeks.
“I know honey, me too…me too.” You pressed a kiss to her head. “Baby lets go have some pizza and enjoy our time with Jack and Mr. Aaron, yeah?”
“Okay.”
That night, something shifted. Aaron and you had begun spending more time together, going to soccer practices and games together, taking the kids to the park, the movies, pottery painting places, dinner at your house, game night at his. Aaron had also exclusively been asking you to take Jack while he was away on cases – claiming Jess’ father was getting worse.
Two months passed like this, and things had started to feel very domestic. Millie was asking more and more about Jack being her brother and Aaron her father and you had to explain that even though they weren’t related, even by marriage, that friends could be considered family too.
Once again you were taking care of Jack while Aaron was out of town on a case, only this time it was a little different. Your car was in the shop, so Aaron had let you borrow his car, and today was the last day of school before winter break. The schoolyard was buzzing with anticipation of the final bell, parents were discussing their vacation plans with one another while waiting.
You has been talking to Scott and Michael when Becca approached you.
“You know, I think it’s a sick thing you’ve done, using your daughter to help you prey on a vulnerable man.” She hissed.
“Excuse me? What the hell are you talking about?” You shot back.
“Aaron. You had Millie befriend Jack and for what so you could trick Aaron into going out with you? It’s truly despicable behavior. He’s a good man and he deserves someone who is genuine.” Becca spewed.
“I don’t know where you get off, talking to me like that, but I can assure you – ”
“Becca, I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t speak to my girlfriend that way. She is the kindest most genuine person I have ever met, and every day she shows me how much she cares for and loves Jack and me. So back off, and maybe don’t speak on things you don’t know anything about.” Aaron bit as his arm snuck its way around your waist, pulling you flush against him.
“I KNEW IT!” Scott shouted.
Becca stormed off with a huff and you turned around to see Aaron wearing a shit eating grin. You couldn’t help but be overwhelmed with disbelief at the fact that Aaron was here right now, he’d stuck up for you, and he’d called you his girlfriend. Yeah, you were fairly sure your brain had short circuited.
“Girlfriend?” Your gaze lifted to meet his.
“You know, I’d been meaning to ask.” He grinned down at you. “What do you say?”
“Yes! Of course!”
Aaron closed the gap between you and captured your lips in a kiss. All the while the moms scoffed and huffed in disbelief that you truly had taken Aaron HOTTIE Hotchner off the market. And before you had a chance to pull away, Jack and Millie came bounding over just in time to catch the last bit of your kiss.
“Does this mean Mr. Aaron can finally be my dad?” Millie asked.
Aaron leaned down to Millie’s level “Mills, I would love nothing more than to be your dad, but we have to take things slow okay? Your mom and I have a lot of grown-up decisions to make before that can happen, so I need you to be patient. Can you do that for me?”
“I can do that!”
You leaned down in front of Jack, wanting to ensure he’s included in all this. “What do you think Jack? Would you be okay with me and your dad being together? It means you and Millie will be together a lot more often.”
“Will you eventually be my mom then?”
“If your dad and I choose to get married eventually, then yeah, I’d be your stepmom.” You explained.
“I think you’d be a really good mom.” Jack wrapped his arms around you.
Aaron and you may have only just made things official, but in the last five or so months, you’d both fallen for each other. Sometimes, things are just right, and all the pieces fall into place naturally. And for the first time in a long time, you couldn’t wait to see where this leads.
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mwahsol · 1 day
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Jewelry with initials
Description: You and Paige are in a semi-private relationship, as she's doing an interview the interviewer notices a certain ring on Paige's hand. The ring on Paige's hand is the one you usually wear with your initials on it. When the interviewer asks Paige about the ring, she hints about your relationship.
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“So Paige I couldn't help but notice that there's a certain ring on your hand that has an initial of someone very familiar.”
“I mean what can I say it's a nice ring.”
‘Does the ring belong to a specific teammate that may or may not wear the number 12?’
‘Yo not too much, but yeah it's her ring. I wanted to bring a little something of hers with me because she couldn't come with me so it'll do for now.”
“Aww that's so cute seeing your close bond.”
After hearing that Paige can feel her face heating up and the smirk she's been trying to hide is slipping through as she answers, “Yeah for sure, but imma see her in a week so when she gets here she can give me my chain back.”
As soon as those words slipped out of her mouth the interviewer had to get all the information she could, “Oh she has something of yours too? Who's idea was it to swap items so you both could have something?”
She couldn’t help but chuckle remembering how she was almost ready to beg you to just come to Seattle with her, being too impatient to wait a bit to hold you again.
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“Baby I’m going to see you in probably less than a week. I just need to visit my mom for a bit.” Even though she understands she can't help but be clingy towards you, I mean how could she not she follows you around like a puppy most of the time not ever wanting to be too far from you. “I know mama I’m just gonna miss you.” As you see Paige pouting on your bed you can't help but walk up to her, you settle in between her thighs and hug her around her shoulders while she wraps her arms around your waist and buries her head in your chest. To make her feel a little better you come up with a cute small idea, “How about I give you something of mine that you can wear so in a way I’ll be there hm? How does that sound love?’ Her head instantly shoots up so you can see the excitement in her eyes making you giggle a little. “Really? Can I pick it out?” She's too cute, “Of course you can.”
“Ok but if I get something of yours then you have to wear something of mine.’ Even though that wasn't part of your original plan you couldn't help but blush at the fact that she wants you to have something so you won't miss her too much. “I wouldn't be opposed to that”
As she gets up and looks through your jewelry box she sees the ring you wear almost all the time, except when you're playing or at practice, “Can I get this one babe?’ You knew how the public knew that ring was specifically yours. It had your initials on it and you know how much the public loves Paige, you know they're more than likely to ask her about it if they notice, and if they don't then all of the fans will. “Are you sure P? I don't want to make you comfortable if they start asking questions about it,” her heart swells up with adoration seeing how much you care and think about her first. “I’m sure, private not secret remember. I’d be happy if they asked me about you. I won't get into too much detail obviously but I can drop a few hints here and there but only if you're comfortable with it mama.” God, she knows how to make you blush, as you look down a giggle a little getting a bit shy you say, “Of course, I am, just wanted to make sure with you first.”
Paige can't help but admire how even after almost two years she still has this effect on you. “Ok, since I got your ring, how do you feel about wearing my gold chain with my initial on it so we kinda match.” You can see her little smirk knowing how much you love that necklace and can't help but say yes to getting the opportunity to wear it again. “Sounds perfect.”
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“Nah it was hers but I added a little but that's it,” the interviewer and soon the audience will be able to see how giddy she was just to talk about you.
“Alright Paige, thank you for talking with us. Good luck and hopefully you see y/n soon,” she couldn't help but laugh towards the ending seeing how Paige was so happy just to hear your name.
“Ay thank you, have a good rest of your day.”
What Paige didn't notice is that while she was being asked about you and remembering the day you traded pieces, she was playing with your ring and smiling so hard that people would rewatch the interview and repost it everywhere talking about how your guy's relationship was definitely more than platonic.
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I'm slowly releasing things please bare with me y'all, law is kicking my ass and my job is NOT helping. I promise I'm trying to rerelease my old work and somewhat write new ones. LOVE YALL THO <3
Kiss the sun 🌞
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yanderemommabean · 14 hours
Text
Hey It's been a while
First, I just want to apologize for being gone as long as I have. Things got to a heated point at home, and I had to postpone my move until August while facing some health concerns.
Im finally out of that god forsaken house. But it wasn't easy. They cornered me, and I cried for six hours trying to just hold on until the next day when I could go.
Im so so so fucking sorry I havent been able to be on here. I know you all must have been worried sick, and I should've at least made some update posts, but Ive been stressed as all hell in my new home trying to get insurance figured out so I can get insulin, trying to get a job for rent and Sammy's meds (he got diagnosed with heart worms, and im devastated at how long it's been going on so we're trying like hell to get him better, ive been up days in a row worried sick about it while waiting on job offers and its killing me).
I got to take Pixie, and she got checked out too and I havent heard anything, so that's good! I've been sick and trying to figure everything out, and was just not able to write like ive been wanting to. I had to leave behind one person i really didn't want to, who unfortunately is stuck with my family, and its also been eating at me.
I'm alive, just stressed and sick and trying to heal from abuse and the shock of not being yelled at for being sick and scared and making mistakes.
Again, Im so sorry you guys. I should have tried to update at all, I've just had so much going on and so much sickness. I am so grateful to have you guys at all, and the sweet messages you sent me made me smile when I finally logged in and read them.
I can't guarantee an everyday post like I usually used to do, but I'm going to try and at least be back more than I have been! I love you beans. I'm so sorry for the radio silence. Everything came to a fever pitch and has been nonstop trying to get settled in since I finally got away, which was the end of August. Before that, I was sick, unable to stand up without passing out, and barely eating because the abuse was so bad that staying in my room and starving was better than any interaction. I wont go into too much detail but the abuse was another large part I didn't want to post. Just bed rotting and hoping time would speed up to get me out of there.
Anyway, this was a terrible ramble, I'll hush, but thank you all so much for your messages, and im happy to be back! Even if just a bit at a time for now until im more settled in <3
Much love!
-Mommabean
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norrisainz33 · 5 hours
Text
baller || LN4
summary: lando has a massive crush on one of the wnba’s newest stars and he isn’t afraid to show it
pairing: lando norris x wnba!reader
fc & warnings: nika muhl & suggestive, you are responsible for the content you consume
requested: nope! just trying to get myself back into writing and i love the wnba. will continue with requests soon 🫶🏻
゚. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ゚
ynuser has made a post
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liked by seattlestorm, sbird10, yourbff, yoursibling, landonorris, maxfewtrell, lewishamilton, and 127,284 others
ynuser: time to get to work
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user1: i’m in love
user2: the most gorgeous girl
jackhughes: looking good
user3: good luck tonight!!!
landonorris: work it girl 😍🤤
maxfewtrell: i knew you’d be here
user5: lando norizz has arrived right on time
user4: when will y/n put lando out of his misery
user6: this vroom vroom man won’t quit
sbird10: making seattle proud y/n!
yourbff: very demure, very mindful, very gorgeous
ynuser: very cutesy
user6: major buckets incoming
user7: fashion ICON
landonorris has posted to his story
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carlossainz55: since when do you follow basketball……
landonorris: since i met the most beautiful girl in the world at a party and learned she plays professional basketball
carlossainz55: ay dios mio cabron. what party????
landonorris: a party lewis encouraged me to attend in miami. he knows her through modeling or something
carlossainz55: ahh the one party i did not attend! well best of luck to you lando
maxfewtrell: mate i can’t keep defending you
landonorris: you don’t have to defend me 😭
maxfewtrell: do you even know how basketball works?!
landonorris: YES!!!! need i remind you im friends with jimmy butler?! he gave me a crash course
maxfewtrell: well thank god for that
user8: you’re obsessed
user9: i get it lan!! y/n is hot id be thirsting like a freak over her too if i was you
oscarpiastri: has she noticed you yet?
landonorris: besides following me on instagram she has not engaged
oscarpiastri: have you idk….. messaged her???
landonorris: ummm no that would be too much
oscarpiastri: and you hyping up her team on your story and commenting on all of her posts isn’t too much?
landonorris: nope not too much at all
oscarpiastri: 🫠 ok bud
lewishamilton: you’re really trying here huh?
landonorris: 😔 yes
lewishamilton: well it must be your lucky day because she just asked about you
landonorris: WHAT SHE ASKED YOU ABOIT ME?! OHMOGMGOGM
lewishamilton: yes.. she asked if we were going to be spending any time in the US before austin
landonorris: i wasn’t planning on it but if she wants me to i will hop on the first flight
lewishamilton: i told her that i may be and that if she’s curious about you … that she should text you herself 😉
landonorris: i feel faint
user10: love that you’re supporting women’s sports king
user11: you really said i have a crush and it’s now everyone’s problem and i love you for it
landonorris has made a post
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liked by mclarenf1, ynuser, quadrant, oscapiastri, maxfewtrell, alex_albon, georgerussell63, and 536,234 others
landonorris: it’s all about the details 🎆
view all 899 comments
user11: lando you never fail to make the best helmets
quadrant: quadrant on track 🎆
mclarenf1: an iconic helmet for an iconic driver
user12: oh this helmet is so hot
maxfewtrell: ready to cook
user14: is no one going to mention y/n in the likes
ynuser: nice helmet
landonorris: thanks y/n. i made it myself 😉
user14: OMG AHES INTHE COMMWNTS TOO
user15: someone check on lando stat
user16: best day of lando’s life fr
user17: guys we need to be normal about this and be wingmen for lando
user18: so true user17
user18: ynuser lando saves puppies in his free time and was kind enough to lend me his lambo
user19: ynuser lando helped my grandma cross the street!
user22: ynuser lando bought me a house!!
user33: ynuser lando saved a kitten from a burning building!!
maxfewtrell: these comments are killing me 😂
user13: you’re going to win this weekend i just know it
ynuser has posted to their story
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seattlestorm: gorgeous as always
user9: ugh i’m so obsessed with you
yourbff: how do you manage to make everything look hot
ynuser: you should know bby
landonorris: todays fit is a good fit
ynuser: why thank you lando
landonorris: omg
landonorris: i mean… anything for you y/n
ynuser: anything you say?
landonorris: just about!
ynuser: when are you coming to a game then?
landonorris: i didn’t know i had an invite
ynuser: of course you do!! seeing as that you’re such a big fan and all 😉
landonorris: consider me there
ynuser: you going to invite me to a race?
landonorris: i have a paddock pass with your name on it 😏
ynuser: consider me there
user11: can’t wait to see you cook in the playoffs!!
patriciooward: you gonna come see me or what 🤔
ynuser: i’ll be in the paddock if you will!
patriciooward: HA yes i’ll be there. looking forward to seeing you
user13: f1 and lando brought me here and i have to say im not mad about it
jackhughes: 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨
user10: the wnba is lucky to have you!!
landonorris has made a post
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landonorris: quick pit stop to catch the playoffs. the storm are finals bound lfg p1 here they come!
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seattlestorm: it was great to have you join us lando!!
landonorris: thanks for having me!
user14: oh my god it’s happening
maxfewtrell: mate stand up
landonorris: oh i’m up mate don’t even worry
user17: lando taking shooting his shot to the next level
ynuser: thanks for stopping by lanny
landonorris: of course y/n/n, no place i’d rather be
user7: i’m rooting for you guys
user46: you got this lando let’s goooo
user17: she called him lanny im ???
user22: he’s so pretty, she’s so pretty ,, they’re perfect for each other
mclarenf1: we love women’s sports in this house
ynuser: yes we do!!
user33: LETS GO STORM!!!
maxverstappen1: oh did someone get his chance?
landonorris: perhaps
user45: y/nlando truthers unite
landonorris has posted to his story
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user18: YESSSSSS
user22: i’ve never been so invested in an american sport before
user76: you posting her as if yall together!! you might just be as delusional as me king
oscarpiastri: how is the winning her over going
landonorris: you’d be surprised but i think it’s working!! we’ve gone on 3 dates and talk every day 😭
oscarpiastri: im so proud of you man
mclarenf1: woohooo let’s goooo!!!
maxfewtrell: i thought we agreed you’d post the team photo and not the one of just her
landonorris: she just looked so cute and happy tho
maxfewtrell: but this makes it look like you’re dating
landonorris: i wish we were 😭😭😭
maxfewtrell: i know i know
patriciooward: i put in a good word for you with y/n
landonorris: you are a real one pato
user87: you are a fan girl just like me
user34: the most supportive boyfriend but not boyfriend i’ve ever seen
user19: you’re nothing if not persistent
user77: you posting more about y/n than you do anyone else
f1gossip has made a post
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f1gossip: following her first wnba title, y/n was spotted celebrating with friends at a popular nightclub. we received this anonymous intel: “i was in the bathroom and heard a girl loudly talking on her phone. when i realized it was y/n i tried to be chill and not bother her but couldn’t help but over hear her conversation. she said “i wish you were here lando” and “i can’t just fly to mexico to be with you” and “no no no you can’t just fly here right now from mexico” and “ok maybe i could fly to brazil but maybe you should just come here for an extended stay before vegas.” needless to say she was definitely talking to lando and it sounded like they were more than friends!”
view all 577 comments
user44: ok hittin us w the invasion of her privacy
user7: oh my god our boy did it - he bagged his baddie
user99: obsessed with him trying to solve her problems and immediately trying to fly to her
user67: hoping if i post really obnoxiously about my celebrity crush they’ll too have no choice but to want me
user1: i can’t believe after the last 5 months of pining he’s actually gotten the girl
user9: i’m not believing nothing until we see if from them
user12: y’all gotta stop speculating about these two
user13: amazing day for annoying people (me)!
ynuser has made a post
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ynuser: what happens in vegas stays in vegas
view all 667 comments
user12: cryptic 🤔
user7: she’s in the paddock 😭😭😭😭
user33: omg shes at the grand prix someone please check on our boy lando
oscarpiastri: was a pleasure meeting you y/n!
ynuser: likewise oscar!! had a great time getting to know you and lily
maxverstappen1: so nice to meet you!! looking forward to you wiping the floor with me when we play that game of padel you promised
ynuser: remember, you told me you’d play basketball with me in exchange!!
maxverstappen1: how could i forget?
user35: adore the fact that max will beg anyone and everyone to play padel with him
user47: i’d love to see max playing basketball 😂
user55: wnba x f1 crossover i never knew i needed
landonorris: hopefully things that happened in vegas can happen outside of vegas too 😉
ynuser: if you play your cards right mr norris 😏
user7: i feel like im interrupting something here
user47: ugh you are always serving so hard in your fits girl
landonorris has posted a story
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user17: YOURE ON A DATE!!! WITH Y/N I HOPE
user18: shocked you didn’t tag her mate
maxfewtrell: so you can post a story but not reply to my texts asking how it went??
landonorris: sorry i was busy 😉
maxfewtrell: oh my god.. you sealed the deal?
landonorris: yes i did! say hello to the wnba’s newest wag
maxfewtrell: never doubted you for a second
landonorris: yes you did but it’s ok
ynuser: thank you for a lovely dinner 🤍
landonorris: of course gorgeous 🧡
landonorris: and thanks for giving me a chance 🥹
ynuser: i should be thanking you for your persistence. i’m so glad we met lando
landonorris: likewise y/n/n
user22: i’m screaming and crying and throwing up
carlossainz55: looks like the devotion to basketball is paying off?
landonorris: yes sir it is 😉
user55: queuing that should be me by justin bieber rn
user66: that’s our BOY
landonorris has made a post
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landonorris: never doubt me again
view all 999 comments
user17: NEVER DOUBTED FOR A SECOND
user6: my bad king , i didn’t realize you had this much game
maxfewtrell: i’m not even allowed to touch your car let alone sit on it
landonorris: yeah well you don’t sit on my face so why would i let you sit on my car [comment has been deleted by user]
user17: WE SAW THAT LANDO
user88: lando you naughty boy omg
oscarpiastri: thank god
landonorris: thanks for sticking with me bestie
user43: couldn’t be happier to see this hard launch
ynuser: we are so hot
landnorris: the hottest
seattlestorm: safe to say that we are formula 1 fans now
user83: i’ve never rooted for a couple more than this one
user92: he got the girl, he got the win, he’s got it all. let’s go lando
゚. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ゚
a/n: thanks for reading!! likes and reblogs appreciated 🫶🏻
゚. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ゚
disclaimer: pictures are not mine and everything i write is fiction
© norrisainz33 || please do not rewrite, translate, or copy any of my works posted here on to any other platform
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violettwrites · 3 days
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trailer park trash 🏹 young!daryl dixon
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a/n: had this sitting in my drafts for a while 🫠 but i finally got around to finishing it ! i’m lowkey obsessed w the idea of young!daryl atm as well he’s just so fine 😭 but i hope y’all enjoy this ! please give me a like, reblog, and/or comment if you did 🫶🏻
this is my masterlist !
and my ask box is currently open for requests !
( also shout out to @madelyncilne for being my beta reader i love u gf 🫶🏻😙 )
summary: 1988. reader has been best friends with daryl since they were little. as they celebrate his 19th birthday, drunken conversations happen where feelings that had been pushed down are told. ( pre apoc )
pairing: young!daryl dixon x reader
warnings: mentions of alcohol, smoking, mentions of weed— just a grunge-y trailer park party scene, making out 🫶🏻
word count: 1,856
— — —
it was july, 1988, a sweltering summer evening in the small, beat up trailer park you and daryl had called home for as long as you could remember. the worn out trailers sat in uneven rows, nestled between overgrown patches of grass and dusty gravel.
your fathers were friends— and though they were both horrible people, you were definitely blessed to have found daryl dixon amidst the chaos of your personal life. he had turned into your best friend— your confidant. he was the one you told everything to. no detail was ever too small. and even though daryl wasn’t much of a talker himself, he always listened.
it was daryl’s 19th birthday. merle, daryl’s older brother, had thrown together a party without much care. however, you both knew it was just an excuse for him to get drunk. not that he needed one anyway. he had mostly invited friends of his own. the kind you weren’t really a fan of; loud, aggressive, always looking for a fight— and way too drunk to care about the aftermath. you didn’t mind though, because you were there for daryl.
the air was thick with the smell of cheap beer and smoke, whether it was from weed or nicotine. merle’s sound system drowns out the hum of cicadas with its scream of pantera lyrics. but it was familiar to you, because this was how majority of your weekends were. you and daryl laying in his bed, ignoring merle and his friends as you smoked cigarettes. sometimes one, others five.
“hey! c’mon, you’re fallin’ behind!” merle shouted, staggering over to you with a half empty bottle of whiskey in his hand. he was already wasted, his wild laughter echoing through the park. you rolled your eyes at him but took a sip of the beer you had in your hand. sure, you were definitely tipsy, and even though you had no desire to keep up with merle and his crowd, it was just easier to go with it.
daryl, leaning against the side of the trailer, had been watching you most of the night. between getting dragged into games of beer pong and the several shots that he had done, he had kept his eyes on you. ready to intervene incase any of merle’s drunken friends put their hands on you.
despite the alcohol in his system, you had noticed he had been quieter than usual. no echoing cheers as he won a tournament, or no whooping after he downed three shots in a row. his shoulders were tense, eyes dark in the moonlight. you really couldn’t tell what was going on through his head tonight, but you knew he wasn’t himself.
“hey, you good?” you asked when you had made your way over to him, the party roaring on behind you. someone had lit a fire out in the field behind the dixon’s trailer, and merle and his friends were starting to get really rowdy, howling at the flames like a pack of wolves.
daryl looked at you, eyes flickering in the dim light. he shrugged, taking a long swig from the bottle in his hand. “yeah, ‘m fine. just… it’s loud, y’know?”
you nodded, leaning against the trailer next to him. you could feel the heat of his arm just barely brushing against yours. it had always been like that with daryl. the way you were always near each other, like magnets that couldn’t quite pull apart.
merle’s laugh rang out again, and you could see him egging on some of the guys, probably looking for trouble. “looks like merle’s having a good time.” you rolled your eyes, sipping at your beer again.
“yeah, well, tha’s merle,” daryl muttered, his voice low and gravelly, like he had something caught in his throat. “he don’ know when to stop.”
the two of you stood in silence for a moment, listening to the noise of the party behind you. motörhead was now playing through the speakers, and the hollers of the group down by the fire in the field was still going.
“hey, it’s your birthday. we should do something. just you and me.” you weren’t sure if it was the alcohol making you bolder, but you decided to say what had been sitting on your chest all night.
daryl looked at you, his eyes narrowing slightly as if he was trying to read between the lines of what you said. “like what?”
“i don’t know,” you shrugged your shoulders, trying to play it off causally, “get outta here, away from this mess. go down by the creek like we used to.”
he stared at you for a moment, and you swore you saw something shift in his expression. he was already drunk, you knew that, but there was something else there too. maybe it was the same thing you had been pushing down since you were thirteen and realised what crushes were.
“yeah,” he said quietly, nodding, “let’s go.”
the two of you slipped away from the party, walking through the field and down towards the creek. although you could still hear the faint bass of the music, it was quieter down there. you could hear the water trickling over the rocks, and the occasional rustle of the wind in the trees. you sat down on the bank, the cool grass under your legs, and looked out at the stars scattered across the sky.
daryl sat down next to you, arms resting on his knees. he was closer to you than he normally was, his bicep brushing against yours. you could smell the whiskey on his breath, but you didn’t mind. you were used to the smell of cheap booze and cigarettes— it was part of life around here.
after a few minutes of comfortable silence, daryl spoke. his voice was rougher than usual, thick with whatever emotions he had been drowning all night. “y’ever think ‘bout gettin’ outta here?”
the question caught you off guard, but you answered honestly. “yeah,” you nodded, “all the time.”
he looked at you, his eyes glassy but intense. “where would ya go?”
“i don’t know,” you said with a soft laugh, “somewhere far away. maybe the mountains, or a big city. somewhere where things aren’t so messed up.”
daryl nodded his head, looking down at the bottle in his hand before taking another swig. “yeah, i think ‘bout it too.”
the silence stretched again, and you felt the weight of all the things left unsaid between the two of you. daryl shifted closer, his knee pressing against yours. his voice was barely above a whisper when he spoke again.
“i ain’t ever told you this, but… you’re the only person i give a damn about in this place.”
your breath hitched, and you felt your heart pounding in your chest. you’d always felt something more for daryl, but you had never brought it up to him. you didn’t want to ruin the friendship you had, and if you could only have him as a friend, then so be it. because it was better than being alone.
“me too,” you admitted, your voice barely steady. “i care about you too.”
he turned to look at you, his face inches from yours now, and you could feel the heat radiating off him. “i ain’t no good, though. you know that.”
you shook your head, your hand reaching for his, giving him a gentle squeeze. “don’t say that. you’re better than anyone else here.”
his eyes stared at you for a long moment, his eyes flicking down to your lips and back up again. the air was thick with tension, and then, without thinking, he leaned in. his lips crashed into yours, rough and urgent, tasting like whiskey and everything you’d ever wanted.
the kiss was messy, desperate, both of you giving into all of the feelings you’d buried for years. your hands cupped his cheeks, moving to crawl onto his lap, finding a new angle as you continued to make out with the boy underneath you.
when his hands moved to your waist, pulling your body closer, you swore it felt like fire when he touched you. you let his hands roam, both your tongues swirling with each other. it felt like bliss, like you were both lost in a world where only the two of you existed, the years of unspoken tension finally erupting in this one heated moment.
every breath was shared, every touch electric. you both had been waiting for this for far too long. his grip on your waist tightened, his fingers digging in just enough to send shivers down your spine.
you felt the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips, your nails lightly grazing the back of his neck as you deepened the kiss. the taste of whiskey still lingered on his lips, but now there was something more— something raw and unfiltered. the taste of desire.
his hands began to explore more boldly, pulling you even closer until there was no space left. your heart raced, and you weren’t sure if you were feeling your own heart thump against your chest, or his.
“daryl!” you heard a drunken voice holler from the trees, causing the two of you to break apart, breathless and cheeks red. you looked down at him for a moment, a small laugh coming from your lips as you heard the drunken voice holler once again for daryl.
merle.
“you have no idea how long i’ve wanted to do that,” he mutters softly, hands gently rubbing at where he had dug his fingertips into you. he held your gaze, eyes dark.
“me too,” you breathed out, your voice barely above a whisper. you could feel the weight of everything you both had left unsaid, all the words that had been replaced by the kiss, by the touch of his hands on your skin.
“daaaaryl!” you heard merle holler once again, and you chuckled softly, rolling your eyes as you moved to get up, holding out your hand to the boy beneath you, pulling him up off the creek bed.
“c’mon,” you huffed, shaking your head as you pulled him back towards the trailer. “merle’s either gonna have a fit, or he’s gonna end up drowning in the creek if we don’t get to him soon.”
daryl just chuckled, enjoying the feeling of your hand in his as you both walked towards the trailer, finding a stumbling merle with a now almost empty bottle of whiskey in his hand not too far from where the two of you had been hiding.
“there he is! there’s my baby brother!” merle shouted, throwing his arms open wide, bottle of whiskey smashing into the trees.
he watched as you let go of his hand to turn merle around, your palms on his older brother’s shoulders as you walked him back towards the trailer, a small smile on his lips.
daryl may have been trailer park trash, but at least he had someone that cared about him.
178 notes · View notes
writingrock · 2 days
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before he leaves [1]
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pairings: prohero! katsuki bakugou, prohero! eijiro kirishima, prohero! denki kaminari x reader (female) summary: your prohero husband is being called away to a two-week long mission. this is how he says goodbye.
notes: fluff, mild suggestive content, established relationship (married), prohero husband, it's just really cute and sweet, I can't say much more.
word count: 3.7k
a/n: for @onlyisaa becuz apparantly putting bakugou in a timeout is unacceptable
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Bakugou’s been called in for a mission overseas. It’s rare, but when it happens, you know it’s something serious. The night before, you couldn’t help but fuss over every little detail. You’d double-checked all of his luggage, then triple-checked it. And now you’re pacing around the room with your mind running through everything he might need. You’d gone over his gear so many times that even Bakugou, usually patient with your worry, had enough. 
“Damn it, woman,” he grumbled, grabbing you by the waist and physically dragging you to bed. You’d protested at first, but he ignored you, muttering under his breath, “You need to quit worrying so much, you’re driving me crazy.”
Despite his words, there was a softness in the way he pulled you into his arms, his grip firm but comforting. His frustration was just his way of masking how much he appreciated your care. He knew you worried because you loved him, but that didn’t stop him from teasing you about it. Even as you lay there, you could feel him quietly shaking his head in amusement, the corners of his lips curling into a smirk as he muttered, "My dear wife, always stressing." 
Still, as much as he tried to calm your nerves, there was a part of him that understood. Missions like this didn’t come often, and both of you knew the stakes. And despite the bravado, despite his confidence, Bakugou knew how hard it was for you every time he had to leave.
It’s five in the morning now, and you’re standing by the door, watching as he slips his phone and passport into his pocket. You stifle a yawn, your voice still groggy from sleep. “How long will you be gone again?”
“Two weeks,” he replies gruffly, his eyes meeting yours. You frown at his answer. Two weeks felt like forever without him. Did he really have to go? Your thoughts are full of protest, but you keep them to yourself.
“Are you sure you have everything?” you ask again, for what feels like the hundredth time. Bakugou lets out an exasperated groan, his head tilting back as he closes his eyes in frustration. 
“Woman, for the last time, yes, I’ve got everything,” he grumbles, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. His crimson eyes flick back to you, softening slightly despite the annoyance in his voice. “I’m not a damn rookie.”
You know he’s right, of course. Bakugou’s meticulous when it comes to preparation, probably more so than you are. Still, the thought of him leaving for two whole weeks on a dangerous mission makes your stomach twist in knots. You can’t help it— it’s in your nature to worry. And Bakugou knows that too.
He glances at you, and for a moment, his stern expression softens even more. He steps toward you, dropping his backpack onto the floor and resting his hands on your shoulders. “Hey,” he says, his voice lower now, gentler. “I’ve done this a million times. I’ll be fine.”
You nod, biting your lip, but he can see the lingering concern in your eyes. He sighs, pulling you into his chest. His arms wrap around you, strong and warm, and for a moment, you can pretend he’s not about to walk out the door.
“I’ve got everything, alright?” he murmurs against your hair. “Except maybe for one thing.”
You pull back slightly, looking up at him with a raised eyebrow. “What’s that?”
He smirks, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “You. But I’ll be back before you know it.”
Does he really have to go?
“Yes, I have to go,” he grumbles, reading your thoughts as if they were spoken aloud. You groan softly and stay wrapped in his embrace. Two weeks without him. His strong, muscular arms, the ones you’ll miss most, tighten around you as you press your face against his broad chest, nuzzling into him with a quiet sigh. You take a deep inhale, filling your lungs with his familiar scent— the mix of his skin and that faint, rugged cologne you love so much. It’s comforting, grounding, and you cling to it, knowing it’ll be a while before you get to experience this again.
“I’ll miss you.” You softly whisper in his chest to which he chuckles. His arms seem to squeeze you a little tighter. 
“Yeah, I’ll miss you too,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, savouring the comfort of your presence. He’d definitely miss his pretty wife.
You look up, meeting his gaze. His crimson eyes, still soft with sleep, linger on you with that private smile he shows only to you. His sharp features seem gentler in the dim morning light, and for a moment, you both just exist in each other’s company.
Wordlessly, the both of you share a deep kiss. An intimate mix of love and longing. His hand cradles your cheek as your arms loop loosely around his neck. Reluctantly, the both of you pull away. You sigh softly from the loss of contact. He keeps you close as he gazes into your eyes, his forehead resting against yours. The beautiful eyes of his lover. 
“I’ll be back before you know it,” he murmurs, brushing his lips against yours in one last, tender kiss before stepping back. You pout a little as his arms fall away, but you know he has to leave.
“I love you,” you say, voice tinged with a reluctant acceptance.
“I love you too,” he replies.
You watch as he picks up his luggage and heads to the car. Standing in the doorway, you call out after him, your voice echoing through the quiet morning.
“Text me updates!”
“I will!”
“And when you’re on the plane—”
“I know!”
“And call me when you get to the hotel!”
“Dammit, woman, I know!” he yells back, a mix of exasperation and fondness in his tone.
Exactly an hour and thirty-seven minutes later, your phone buzzes with a message from him. He’s reached the airport. Twenty minutes later, another text arrives to tell you that he’s checked in. 
Two hours pass, and your phone lights up again with a photo of him and his colleagues on the jet. He looks as sharp as ever, though there’s the usual trace of annoyance in his expression. And next to him were sheepish looking Red Riot and ChargeBolt. His message follows right after: They were late. Typical.
You smile at his grumbling, imagining him sitting there, arms crossed, clearly unimpressed. Even from thousands of miles away, it’s like he’s right there with you, sharing his usual complaints.
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You watch Kirishima stretch in the morning light. His muscles ripples beneath his tanned skin as he works out the tension from his body. He’s seated at the edge of the bed, wearing nothing but his boxers. The broad back you love so much, facing you. Kirishima’s back is adorned with battle scars, each with their own battle-hardened tale. The scars stretch over his powerful frame and you feel rather tempted to reach out to touch them.
As he stretches his arms out to the sides, twisting slightly to loosen up, your eyes skirt over the fresh scratches running along his skin. Scratches you left from the night before. The memory of it stirs something warm inside you, and you can’t help but let a soft giggle escape your lips.
Upon hearing your fit of giggles, he pauses mid-stretch. Glancing over his shoulder with a knowing smirk on his lips. "What’s so funny?" he teases, his voice still a little raspy from sleep, but there's an unmistakable playfulness in his tone. 
“Just admiring my work.” you comment, referring to the latest addition of scratches on his back. He chuckles softly, replaying the events of last night in his head. It was a rather vigorous night. He needed that time with you, though. With a two-week mission ahead, he already knows how much he’s going to miss you. 
He practically jumps back into bed, sweeping you into his strong, muscular arms as if he can't bear to be away from you for another second. His lips find yours in a tender kiss before he nuzzles into the curve of your neck, planting soft, fluttery kisses along your skin. His lips trace over the bite marks he left behind last night, a reminder of the intimacy. 
For a moment, there's only the sound of your steady breathing and the quiet intimacy of the morning. Then, you break the silence, your voice still soft and hazy from sleep. “Do you have to go?” Your hand gently combs through his messy red hair, and he responds with a low hum of affirmation, his teeth grazing your neck playfully, causing a shiver to run through you. 
“I don’t want to,” he murmurs, his voice low and a little rough, “but I have to.” 
He rises slightly, hovering over you, his gaze tender as he takes in your sleepy features. His hand, warm and calloused, cups your cheek, his thumb brushing gently over your skin as if memorizing every detail. He’s going to miss you—more than he can express.
You're the reason he’s not in the shower yet. The reason he’s still in bed, holding you close instead of gearing up or standing by the door. He’s prolonging every second he has with you, delaying the inevitable because leaving you feels harder than the mission itself. He knows he's late, that he should already be in the shower, getting ready for the mission. His gear should be laid out, his mind focused on the tasks ahead. But here he is, unable to leave your side.
He knows his hero partner will yell at him.
But how could he resist his beautiful wife?
You know he’s running late too, but you don’t care. Shifting up from the bed, you lazily loop your arms around him, pressing your cheek against his warm, broad back. A soft sigh escapes your lips as you settle into him.
“I’ll miss you,” you murmur, breathing in his familiar scent, already knowing you’ll be raiding his closet the moment he’s gone, wrapping yourself in whatever he leaves behind.
“I’ll miss you more,” Kirishima replies, his voice full of warmth. You can’t see the smile on his face, but you feel it in the way his muscles relax under your touch, the way his words come out soft and sincere.
What time is it? You glance at the digital clock on the bedside table. Six in the morning? He's definitely getting yelled at. A quiet chuckle escapes you as you loosen your grip around him.
“It’s six,” you say, a playful warning in your tone.
“I know,” he groans, clearly aware of the trouble he's in.
“He’s going to kill you.”
Kirishima just laughs softly. “I’ll survive—gotta come back to you.” His words make you laugh, and as you release him, he turns to face you with that toothy grin you’ve always loved.
Just as Kirishima leans in to kiss you, his phone rings, cutting the moment short. A loud groan escapes his lips as he checks the caller ID. He glances at you, a dry chuckle slipping out before he answers.
He doesn’t even need to speak— Bakugou’s voice is already blaring through the speaker, barking orders. You can hear it loud and clear, his usual demanding tone carrying through the room. “Get your ass up, Eijiro!” 
Kirishima doesn’t argue, knowing full well Bakugou had already anticipated this. With a quick tap, he ends the call, tossing the phone back onto the nightstand with a sigh. He knew he brought this on himself, but it’s far too early for all that yelling.
“You heard that, right?” Kirishima asks, glancing over his shoulder at you. 
You nod with a soft chuckle, still amused. “Yeah, pretty much. You should clean up,” you hum, playfully nudging him.
He raises an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Wanna join me?” 
“Eijiro.”
“Fine, fine,” he grumbles, finally getting out of bed and heading for the bathroom. His broad figure disappears behind the door, and you roll your eyes fondly, watching him go. As much as he’s procrastinating, you know he’ll eventually get it together—because, at the end of the day, he’s always reliable. Even if he’s late.
Before you know it, Kirishima is already by the door, fully dressed with his suitcase in hand. The image of him shirtless and relaxed on the bed feels like a distant memory as you stand in front of him, sharing one last deep kiss before he leaves. It’s slow and lingering, filled with the kind of warmth that you’ll hold onto while he’s gone. When you finally part, it’s with a soft peck on the lips, and a smile as you watch him step outside.
You wave as he loads his suitcase into the car, and he shoots you that familiar, reassuring grin before the door closes behind him. The car pulls away, and the house feels quieter already.
Two hours pass, and your phone buzzes with a new message. You open it to find an image of a rather grumpy-looking Dynamight, arms crossed and glaring from his seat on the plane. Next to him, Chargebolt is flashing a sheepish grin, holding up a peace sign. You can almost hear Bakugou grumbling under his breath about something ridiculous, probably annoyed with everything around him. 
Kirishima’s caption reads: “Already regretting this trip. Look at these idiots.” 
You laugh, texting him back quickly, already missing him but feeling a little lighter knowing he's surrounded by his friends and trusted co-workers. He’ll be in your arms again soon.
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“Five more minutes.” 
Denki mumbles, his voice muffled as he snuggles deeper into your embrace. He’s still in bed, arms wrapped tightly around you, clinging like he’s never going to let go. You let out a soft hum as your fingers comb through his messy blond hair, the strands wild from sleep and so uniquely him. His head rests against your chest, and you can’t help but smile to yourself as you look down at him—the pro-hero you love so much, completely content in your arms.
But this is also the very late pro-hero.
“You’re going to be late, Denks,” you murmur, your voice gentle but with a hint of amusement.
He grunts in reply, barely acknowledging your words as he shrugs and buries his face even further into your chest, clearly not bothered by the reality of the situation. “Don’t care,” he mutters, his voice rumbling against your skin. He’s warm, cosy, and in no rush to leave. Being tangled up with you is the only thing that matters in the world right now.
You chuckle softly, shaking your head. “You say that now, but wait until Bakugou gets on your case for being late again.”
“I’m not scared of him,” Denki just huffs, his arms tightening around you as if to say let him try. You know he’s dreading the inevitable lecture, but right now, he’d rather enjoy every last second with you. And honestly, you’re not complaining.
The two of you lay there peacefully, soaking in the morning light peeking through the windows. You’re already thinking about how much you’ll miss him during his two-week mission. It’s not often he’s called away for that long, but when he is, you understand. That’s the life of a pro-hero. And while the thought of being apart tugs at your heart, you couldn’t be more proud of him for what he does.
“I’ll miss you,” Denki murmurs into your skin, his breath warm against your chest as he looks up at you. His toned arms tighten around your waist, pulling you closer. His electrifying touch trails in soothing circles across your skin, making you feel that familiar buzz only he can give. He sighs softly, like he’s already dreading the distance. At that moment, you realise just how much you’re going to miss the way he holds you. The warmth of his affection that never fails to make you feel safe.
You smile down at him, your fingers still running through his messy blond hair. “What are you going to miss the most about me?” you ask playfully, your tone light, though a part of you genuinely wonders what his answer will be.
He pauses, his gaze drifting downward to your chest, a playful grin spreading across his face. You immediately catch on, rolling your eyes and swatting him lightly on the head. “Denki!” you scold, but you can’t help laughing as the both of you break into soft chuckles.
He rubs the back of his head, still grinning like a mischievous kid caught in the act. “What? Can you blame me?” he teases, but when he sees the look on your face, he lets out a small sigh, shaking his head as if to reset himself.
“Okay, okay,” he says, his tone shifting to something more serious. “Real answer now.”
Denki’s lips curl into a smile, but his eyes stay soft, thoughtful. “Everything,” he says, his voice low and sincere. “The way you smile at me when I walk through the door, the way you run your fingers through my hair like this…” He trails off, propping himself up on one elbow.
Looking deep into your eyes, his usual playful energy is tempered by the sincerity that only comes out in moments like these. “I’m gonna miss the way you make everything feel... normal. Like, when I’m out there, saving the day and dealing with all the hero stuff, it’s easy to forget who I really am sometimes. But with you,” he pauses, his hand gently cupping your cheek as his thumb brushes over your skin, “you remind me that I’m more than just a pro-hero. You remind me that I’m enough, just as I am. That I’m just Denki Kaminari.”
His words make your heart swell, and for a moment, you forget about the two weeks ahead. All that matters is here and now, with him in your arms, holding onto you like you’re the most important thing in his world.
Just then, his phone rings, interrupting the peaceful moment. As Denki picks it up, you glance at the screen and catch the time—half past six in the morning. Oh, he’s much later than you’d initially thought. It’s not Bakugou calling, but Kirishima instead. You can hear his deep, concerned voice on the other end, “Dude, get up. He’s already pissed.”
Before the words even fully register, Denki’s already scrambling, bolting upright and pulling on his boxers in a flurry of movement. The sudden shift from lazy cuddles to frantic dressing makes you burst out laughing. He’s rushing so fast that he practically trips over his own feet as he throws open the closet doors, rifling through his clothes in search of something to wear.
“How did you know I wasn’t already out the door?” Denki fires back at Kirishima, balancing the phone between his ear and shoulder while simultaneously struggling to put his clothes on. His words are defensive, but the slight panic in his voice gives him away. He’s juggling a pair of pants in one hand, sliding them on while trying to pull a shirt over his head with the other, looking every bit the chaotic mess you love.
You can’t help but chuckle at the scene— Denki hopping around, trying to get his pants on without losing grip on the phone or his dignity. "Because if you were, you wouldn’t be half-dressed and panicking right now," you tease, watching as he stumbles into his shoes, still fumbling with his shirt.
Denki flashes you a sheepish grin, clearly caught, but he doesn’t miss a beat as he finally manages to get his pants on properly. “I was about to be out the door,” he mutters into the phone, knowing full well that no one’s buying it.
“Tell him I’m—” Denki starts as he finds his packed luggage. Thank god he packed the night before. 
“Already on your way?” Kirishima cuts in with a laugh. “Yeah, you can tell him that yourself. You know how he gets when we’re late. He’s already chewed me out. Hurry up man or you’re next.”
It’s hard to hold in your laughter at the situation. Denki shoots you a panicked glare as he starts moving out of the bedroom. “I’ll be out in two seconds!” he says into the phone, though both you and Kirishima know that’s a lie. 
You shake your head, still laughing softly, as you follow him out of the bedroom. Amused by the whirlwind that is your husband in a rush. He’s darting around the living room, frantically patting down his pockets to make sure he’s got everything. The sight is pure Denki— chaotic, yet somehow endearing.
As he’s about to bolt out the door, you catch sight of his passport sitting on the kitchen counter. With a smile, you grab it and walk over, holding it out to him just as he turns in circles, looking confused. “Looking for this?” you tease, waving the passport in front of his face.
His eyes light up with relief. “You’re a lifesaver,” he says, leaning in for a quick kiss.
Before he can rush off again, you grab his arm and pull him in for one last peck on the cheek. “Be safe, okay? And text me when you land.”
He flashes you that playful, electric grin, eyes twinkling. “Promise. Love you.” Then, with a wink, he’s out the door, shoes half-tied, practically running to avoid Bakugou’s wrath.
You lean against the doorframe, still smiling as you watch him disappear down the street. Even in his frantic state, there’s something about him that makes you fall in love with him all over again, every time.
Two hours later, your phone buzzes with a message from your husband. You unlock it to find several crying emojis, and you can already feel the laughter bubbling up before you even open the image. When you do, you’re greeted with a snapshot of chaos: a very pissed off Dynamight, glaring daggers at Denki, looking ready to lunge at him. Red Riot is in the background, struggling to hold Bakugou back, his arms wrapped around Dynamight in a full bear hug, clearly doing his best to keep things under control.
Denki’s sheepish grin isn’t doing him any favours either. His expression is simply the statement of "I'm in trouble". You stifle a laugh as you text him back. 
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a/n: there will be a part two of this with deku, shoto and sero! I only had energy to write these three idiots xP
border credits: @/enchanthings & @/adornedwithlight
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innerfare · 7 hours
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You’re Jealous
 Summary: You get jealous of another woman in his life.
Characters: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Ace, Sabo, Law, and Kid
Genre: Slight Angst // Fluff
CW: None // SFW
——— 
Luffy: He never told you Boa Hancock was in love with him, and when you find out, you have to remove yourself from the situation before you have an emotional outburst and start something with the Pirate Empress. The problem is, you don’t even know which emotion will spill out of you. Finding out the world’s most beautiful woman, and a powerful Warlord, no less, is desperate to marry Luffy is a whirlwind, to say the least. Luffy can seem clueless at times, but his emotional intelligence is through the roof, and he picks up on what has you upset almost straight away. He knows to give you some space, and when he senses you’re ready, he approaches you with a handful of wildflowers he picked. He doesn’t really say much, just pulls you into a hug, presses a few kisses into your cheek and temple, and says in your ear, “you’re my girl.” 
Zoro: He didn’t mention Perona was also at Mihawk’s castle for those two years until a few months after the crew gets together. He tells a story that features her, and you realize there was a woman keeping him company. Your heart drops into your stomach. Zoro insists he didn’t mention her because he didn’t think she was relevant; the only thing Perona did those two years was annoy him. He’s actually the one who won’t let it go, not you (even though you are pretty jealous). Whereas you’d prefer not to talk about it, Zoro is wracked with guilt because he’d never considered the whole thing in a relationship context. Him fretting constantly over it actually heals your jealousy because you realize you’ve never seen him panic over the prospect of hurting anyone else’s feelings. 
Sanji: Even with a third eye, Pudding is stunning. And Sanji almost married her. It was before you two were together, but listening to the stories from Whole Cake, hearing how close he came to marrying another woman, knowing she really did fall in love with his kind heart and wonderful cooking, turns you into a little green monster. You know you shouldn’t feel jealous of a woman you’ve never met before, a woman Sanji chose not to marry, but you can’t help it. Sanji is completely shocked that you would feel jealous over his relationship (if it could even be called that) with Pudding, though after thinking about it some more, he does realize why you might be jealous that he had a fiancé. His solution is to bring you a bouquet of roses and walk you through the dark details of his life, telling you things he’s never outright told anyone, so you understand the special place you have in his life. 
Ace: He collects people without trying, and often times, without realizing, either. Ace thinks he’s just making friends, but you see the way the women he laughs and shares drinks with are drawn to him like plants to the sun. He promises them freedom and adventure (and he has a very nice laugh), and you can see how it excites them. You don’t really mind it, knowing Ace well enough to see the way he holds those women at arm’s length, even if he seems close with them (such is the magic of Fire First Ace). But Yamato makes you jealous. It’s not hearing the way they laughed together but hearing the way they fought that gets you you. You know how Ace lives to fight and even just roughhouse, you know how he’s a rough and tumble guy, and you worry you’re not tough enough. Should you be punching his arm when he makes a joke? Should you be trying to trip him out on deck? What should you be doing? When you finally come clean with Ace about what’s been bothering you, he actually laughs. “If I wanted to be with someone who gives me hell, I’d be sleeping in Marco’s cabin every night. Besides,” he says, scooping you up in his arms, “I like being able to manhandle you.” 
Sabo: Sabo is a flirt, and you knew that going into your relationship. It actually doesn’t bother you when he flashes that charming smile of his at someone else or swoops in to save a damsel in distress (a speciality of his) and even serves to entertain, especially on the rare occasions his flirtations are rebuked. What does bother you, though, is his tight relationship with Koala. You know it’s ridiculous to be envious, you know Koala would sooner saw off her arm than kiss the man she considers her irksome big brother, but they’ve known each other since they were little kids, and Koala has been through so much with Sabo that the pair have such a close bond. It’s not the angry kind of jealousy that bubbles up in you when Koala mentions something about Sabo’s past that she assumes you know but you don’t, just the sad kind that you try to keep to yourself. Surprisingly, Sabo notices, though you don’t realize until he hugs you from behind and mumbles in your ear that he’s glad you’re the only one who knows he has a skincare routine, his silly words diffusing your mood and acting as the exact affirmation you needed. If it’s not enough, though, he’ll happily prove his loyalty to you by challenging Koala to a karate match, though.  
Law: Dr. Law and Dr. Robin sure do get along well- so well, in fact, you can’t help but wonder if they are better suited to each other than you and him. Even if they didn’t have such good chemistry, it would be impossible not to feel a touch of jealousy toward the archeologist. She’s intelligent, beautiful, fiercely loyal, a member of the Straw Hats, and has an impressive bounty that she earned even before she became a pirate. Needless to say, you find yourself brooding when the Robin brings him a beer and sits down beside him to discuss the immune systems of fishmen, a topic both are rather interested in. Of course, you’re interested in that, too, thus the reason Law realizes something is wrong when you don’t participate in the conversation. He ends up excusing the two of you and taking you to bed, worrying you had too much to drink, the thought you may be jealous never once occurring to him. You end up not saying anything (many thing in your relationship with Law being unspoken) and just sleeping it off, the fact that he excused the two of you proof enough of his loyalty. 
Kid: He doesn’t ever talk about his first love, Victoria. In fact, you didn’t even know she existed until Killer got drunk one night and began speaking of his dearly departed. What he didn’t mention was that Kid, too, had been in love with her. It only comes up the next night when you mention it to Wire, who mentions it was the death of his first love, Victoria, that put Kid on the war path and united the first four members of the Kid Pirates. Realizing Wire messed up, Heat chimes in to say, “he’d do the same for you.” But you’re not convinced, mainly because Kid never told you any of this. It tears you apart, leaves you tossing and turning for nights on end, until you finally burst into Kid’s workshop one night ranting about how he doesn’t trust you and holds you at arm’s length. “Heat says you’d do the same for me, but-” Kid cuts you off and says, “I wouldn’t do the same, I’d do worse. Much, much worse.” And from the wicked gleam in his eye, you’re inclined to believe him. 
———
Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!
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kacievvbbbb · 2 days
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I don't know Laios....Chilchuck
I kind of ship it.👀
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this moment right here, when he looked at him like this. Signed sealed delivered, baby!
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muniimyg · 11 hours
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𐙚₊˚⊹ bbydaddy!jk (18) ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ *nsfw*
series m.list // taglist request: closed
note: some angst ?? but it's heartwarming... smut ofc because we are so back ! jk and oc finally kiss again (and can't stop) and so he fingers her. they sort of... talk things out??? def on the right path to their happily ever after <3
//
one thing jungkook and zion have in common (aside from being each other's splitting image) is that they’re both grumpy when sick.
last night, when zion slept over at jungkook’s, he was whiny and snappy. he cried a few times, sobbing for you (he's also been going through separation anxiety with you regardless. being sick just makes it feel extra awful). it worried jungkook since whenever zion was sick, you were always around. you were always the one to take care of him, and even if jungkook wanted to help, zion would throw a fit and refuse to let him near.
he can’t blame his son, though.
jungkook is the same.
when he’s sick, he only wants you. only you could nurse the sickness away. only you could make him feel better.
as the sun came up, zion woke up in a tired, slow mood. he wasn’t snappy or grumpy per se, but he was definitely out of it. jungkook checked his temperature (it was normal) and even added oranges to his snack box for the extra vitamin c. it’s a little chilly today; the sky looks like it has plans to cry soon, so he dresses zion in an extra layer. then, he lets you know what’s going on, drops zion off at daycare, and tells zion’s educators that he’s feeling a little under the weather.
jungkook repeats over and over again: "please call me if he’s really not feeling up for it today. he doesn’t have to be sick sick, okay? just call me if he even tells you guys he’s tired. i have a meeting, but i’ll come right when it’s over… that’ll be around 11 a.m."
at 11:28 a.m., zion’s daycare calls jungkook to say that zion spent the entire morning sleeping and then woke up to throw up.
at 11:31 a.m., he texts you.
by 11:45 a.m., he rushes into the daycare, grabbing zion’s backpack and holding him with his other arm.
… and holy shit, is it awful.
zion is kicking and screaming, bawling his eyes out because he doesn’t want jungkook. he’s uncomfortable and running really hot. jungkook is trying to sign zion out as his educators quickly update him on the details of zion’s morning.
jungkook can’t hear a thing.
he just keeps thinking to himself: fuck, i wish ___ were here.
hustling to leave, jungkook’s feet come to a halt at the door.
it’s pouring rain.
he hisses, feeling like he will lose his mind in the next five seconds. everything is so overstimulating and heavy. zion’s sobs grow louder with each passing moment he’s in jungkook’s arms. zion’s backpack isn’t even zipped up properly, so some of his things are falling out—and holy fuck, why is it raining so fucking much?
then, it gets worse.
jungkook’s car is parked four blocks away. he suddenly remembers this as he scans the area and feels even more helpless.
he takes a deep breath and accepts his fate. he accepts that zion will be crying in the car the whole ride long. he accepts that the backpack he’s carrying will be empty by the second block. he accepts that he and zion will be drenched in rain and probably get sick soon, too.
he accepts his fate.
“zion, daddy parked the car far away. i’m really sorry, buddy. can you take some deep breaths for me before we go? we’re going to get wet, and it’s hard for daddy to focus if you’re crying like this—”
zion hits jungkook’s shoulders and sobs even harder. “no! i don’t want to get wet! i don’t want you! i only want mommy—”
“she’s coming, zion. mommy will be at the house—”
“no!” zion cries, shaking his head profusely. “i want mommy now!”
jungkook can’t help but tear up. zion is burning up. his small hands clutch onto jungkook’s shirt, and his face is flushed with fever. he shifts slightly in jungkook’s arms, letting out a tired whimper. jungkook’s heart twists.
he stares at the rain pouring down, watching it hit the pavement in heavy sheets.
just 4 blocks.
he’d done it a hundred times before—walked this exact route, held zion in his arms when things got tough. but for the first time in his whole fatherhood, he doesn’t know how to be one. not that he’s a pro and has known what to do for the past three years—but he was usually better than this. he knows how to calm zion down. he knows how to hold his son and walk four blocks. he knows tough days… but for some reason, right now feels impossible.
it feels like he’s stuck.
it feels like shit.
he takes a deep breath, his mind racing as he prepares to step into the rain.
“we’ll be okay,” he murmurs, more to himself than to zion, who is now resting his head on jungkook’s shoulder. every muscle in jungkook’s body is tense, ready to sprint through the storm if that’s what it takes. “daddy’s fast. okay, zi? but i’m going to need your help for extra speed. can you take a deep breath and count with me? let’s go in three, two, one—”
just as jungkook is about to step into the rain, there you are.
“zion!” your voice calls out.
you appear out of nowhere, stepping into view with an umbrella in hand. your eyes lock with jungkook’s; they’re filled with concern but somehow steady, reassuring. it’s like you know exactly when to show up, like you always do.
no call, no texts—just… there.
thank god.
jungkook exhales, feeling the weight of everything lift just a little. maybe timing isn’t something you can plan or force, but somehow, it always feels right when it comes to you. truth be told, you have this way of arriving just when everything feels like it’s slipping out of control—like the universe is telling jungkook he’s destined to wait for you.
to live life with you.
to be with you.
to love you.
zion gasps, quickly wiping his own tears.
“mommy!” he exclaims, his voice thin but full of excitement. “mommy! come here, please! i want you! okay? daddy—it’s mommy! see? over there? yellow umbrella…”
jungkook follows zion’s gaze and watches as you cross the street.
“yeah,” jungkook sighs softly, brushing a hand through zion’s damp hair. “look at that… mommy came for you, zi.”
zion smiles tiredly, his face softening despite the fever’s flush. “cos she loves me.”
“she does,” jungkook chuckles, pressing a light kiss to zion’s forehead. “i love zion too.”
zion huffs, crossing his arms weakly before whining in that small way only toddlers could. “no. i only want mommy’s love—oh, oh, oh! my mommy—” he wriggles in jungkook’s arms, reaching out towards you.
jungkook feels the shift in zion’s body, the way his little arms reach out desperately for you. it’s as if you are the only thing that could make the world feel right again.
finally, beside them, you step forward, and jungkook loosens his hold. gently, he transfers zion into your waiting arms. zion nestles against you instantly, his tired body finding comfort in the way you hold him—the way only you could.
jungkook stands there for a moment, watching you two. a small pang of something—loss, maybe—passes through him. but it isn’t about that. it isn’t about pride or who could soothe zion better.
it’s about the way zion relaxes, finally at peace in your arms, and how the pouring rain is nothing compared to the sunshine you radiate.
then, jungkook sighs. his heart is heavy and warm at the same time. with his parents taking zion over the weekend, jungkook only really had him for one cranky night and this hectic morning.
now, it’s noon, and it’s crystal clear that he isn’t enough for zion.
today, he failed.
… and that’s okay.
as much as parenting is about getting things right, it’s also about getting things wrong. this? this is what parenting is too—knowing when to step back, to let someone else be the safe place. as much as it stings, it is also filled with relief.
zion is safe.
zion is loved.
… and in the end, that’s all that matters.
as zion settles into your arms, jungkook takes the umbrella from you. he steps into the rain, holding the umbrella for you two. patting zion’s back, you whisper reassuring things into his ears. he giggles and begins to babble about how much he missed you. he requests noodles and to sleep on the couch tonight. you tell him no, that his bed is better. he doesn’t fight you. instead, he asks if he can get a lollipop for his sore throat. you grant that request.
“nam joon just sent me here by uber… but i think it left already. where’s your car?” you ask jungkook.
“it’s 4 blocks away. should I go get it—”
“it’s fine,” you decide. “let’s walk there together. are you okay? you look kind of—”
“mr. and mrs. jeon?”
you both turn your heads to see zion’s teacher come out. she has two small containers in her hand and zion’s water bottle. she jogs over despite the rain.
“oh! thank goodness i caught you two. these are zion’s—” she hands the items to jungkook. he opens zion’s bag and puts the things inside. “... and i just wanted to remind you we have show and tell next week. i meant to mention it earlier when mr. jeon was signing zion out but forgot. anyways, get home safe and get well soon, zion!”
“thank you,” jungkook nods. “thanks for calling too.”
zion’s teacher smiles warmly. “no worries! zion is so precious to us. even when he has his days… i don’t think i’m supposed to say this, but—he’s our favorite. he’s always curious and funny. he’s kind and organized for a 3-year-old… probably gets that from you two, huh? he always talks about you two. he loves you guys so much and always draws family pictures of you at home.”
your heart melts.
“... and honestly? i’ve never seen you two pick zion up together, and my colleagues and i all talk about how much you two suit each other… seeing it in person—together? wow. you look like you were destined to be a family.”
jungkook’s heart melts.
you two laugh and thank her for her kind words. they don’t make you feel awkward… if anything, they make you smile. to be known and loved—to have people believe in you two… it’s different. it’s something else.
it’s something real.
as zion’s teacher bids her goodbye, you and jungkook share a look.
“let’s go?”
jungkook nods, follows your lead, and trails a few steps behind you.
he holds the umbrella high above you and zion, making sure the rain doesn’t touch either of you. you glance back, catching a glimpse of his shoulders already soaked after just a few steps in, his hair dripping with rain while yours and zion’s remain dry.
suddenly, you feel a rush of warmth and frustration all at once.
he does this every time—always putting himself last, always making sure you and zion are okay first. it’s one of the ways he loves; you know that. quietly, without asking for anything in return. but right now, as you feel the warmth of zion’s little body against yours, dry and protected under the umbrella, something twists inside you.
fuck.
you hate it so much.
“jungkook…” you start, your voice soft, but he shakes his head before you can say more, a small smile playing on his lips.
“i’m fine,” he says, like he always does, eyes darting briefly to zion nestled in your arms, then back to you. there’s something so gentle in that look, and it’s enough to silence you. because you know—he’s doing this because he wants to, because this is how he loves. he won’t let you carry the weight alone, not even for a second.
still, it frustrates you.
watching him like this, so selfless and soaked, makes you want to pull him under the umbrella, to wrap him up and shield him the way he does for you. but you know he wouldn’t let you. you sigh, biting back the urge to protest. instead, you adjust zion in your arms and glance back at him, hoping he knows.
and he does.
because when your eyes meet his, there’s a moment—unspoken, quiet—where you don’t have to say a word. in the way you look at him. he can feel it: the gratitude, the love, the quiet ache of wanting him to take care of himself, too... and maybe he feels it too because the smile he gives you is softer this time. a little more knowing.
you wish you could pull him closer, but in your own way, you love him back. you hold zion a little tighter, taking care of what he holds dear to his heart, just as he takes care of both of you.
as the rain pours harder, he stays a step behind, soaked but steady, and you walk together in the silence, knowing without words that love isn’t always about who gets wet and who stays dry.
sometimes, it’s about who’s willing to stand in the rain for you.
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the car ride was quiet. 
you sat in the back, holding zion’s hand the entire time. zion fell asleep but would shift and murmur, “mommy, mommy…” 
jungkook drove carefully and often glanced back at you two. he isn’t sure why, but he kind of really loves this moment. it reminds him of the day you two were bringing zion home from the hospital. 
he loves the way you are with his son. 
he loves you so much. 
when you get home, zion is attached to you by the hip. he throws a tantrum when jungkook pulls him away from you so he and zion could go take a bath together while you get started on chicken noodle soup for lunch. jungkook struggles and feels bad for ripping zion away from you, but doesn’t take it to heart. 
zion is just like this when he’s sick. 
once their bath is finished, zion comes running to you from the washroom. jungkook follows along, drying his hair with a towel. you pick up zion and set him on his chair, prepared to feed him. 
from the corner of your eye, you see jungkook put his jacket on and search his pockets for his keys. 
“are you leaving?” you ask, feeding zion a spoonful. “i made you lunch too. please stay—”
“i’m gonna go buy some medicine for him,” jungkook says. “and those lollipops for sore throat? does he even have a sore throat?”
you laugh. “don’t think so. we got into a bad habit of giving him them every time he’s sick though… might as well go along with it. at least they make him feel better.”
jungkook chuckles, “whatever you want, honey—”
he clears his throat. 
“sorry.”
you shrug. “don’t be.”
he offers you half a smile and ruffles zion’s hair before heading to the door. as he puts on his shoes and opens the door, you call for him once more. 
“drive safe, okay?” 
“i will.”
“go to the pharmacy on 11th. it’s the closest and they sell the apple flavour cough syrup he likes.”
“i will.”
“the lollipops are usually hidden behind their stash of kids tylenol. so look behind the tylenol.”
“i will.”
“honey?”
“mhmm?”
“go and come back quickly.”
jungkook doesn’t turn back. instead, he smiles to himself and lets his heart flutter. biting his inner cheek, he attempts to act cool. 
“i will.”
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the day goes by fast. 
jungkook came back with everything zion could possibly need. after giving zion his medicine, jungkook scrafed down the lunch you made him. it didn’t take long for zion to fall asleep. in fact, he fell asleep right away. 
as you place zion on his bed, you kiss his forehead and take his temperature again. his fever is still high but it should get better in a few hours. you’ll check on him again in a bit. shutting the door to his door, you take a deep breath and head to the living room where jungkook is on his laptop, finishing up a few things for work. 
“how’s his fever?” jungkook asks. 
“still high,” you reply, taking a seat next to him on the couch. peaking over, you notice the pharmacy bag jungkook left on the coffee table. you lean forward and take it. bringing it to the kitchen with intentions to throw it away, you notice another box left inside.
reaching your hand in, you take it out thinking it’s just another type of medicine jungkook got for zion. to your surprise, it’s a box of condoms. 
condoms. 
you and jungkook don’t fuck with condoms. 
quickly, the feeling of betrayal kicks in. how could he do this? what does this even mean? was he sleeping with someone else? or worse… does he not want more babies with you? that’s fucked up. it’s so fucking fucked up. seriously, what the actul fuck—
“sorry, i was submitting something. what did you say?” jungkook calls out. 
you snap out of your thoughts and put the box back inside the plastic bag. you set it on the kitchen island and go back to join him on the couch. sitting yourself down, you inch closer to him. 
“his fever is still high… but i’ll check again after an hour or two. the medicine probably just needs to settle in… i hate sick season. not only is everyone around us sick, but zion can be—”
“mean?”
“i was gonna say needy…”
jungkook laughs sarcastically and shuts his laptop. placing it to the side, he sighs. 
“he hated me today.”
“that can’t be true—”
“oh,” jungkook snickers. “he hated me. he only wanted you. i felt so helpless when i went to pick him up. i’m glad you came… i’m guessing they contacted you too?”
you nod. “yeah. i was about to start this new case when i got the call. told nam joon i had to leave and have someone else take my client—”
wide-eyed, jungkook shifts. “you lost a client today because i—”
“no,” you say sternly. “that’s not what i meant.”
jungkook pauses. 
then, it hits him. 
it’s been like this for a while, hasn’t it? constantly miscommunicating and assuming things between you two rather than spending the time and effort to figure things out. 
“... is it okay if i stay the night? i know we’re broken up or whatever but i’d really like to stay and help out as much as i can. i know he doesn’t want me around and you probably have this shit handled—”
“stay,” you tell him, reaching for his hand. you hold it tight and run your thumb across his knuckles. you press on the little letter ‘z’ on his hand. “... and i hate this. i need you to know that i hate this.”
“what do you—”
you don’t know what comes over you, but something does. it just does and you can’t help it. maybe it’s the box of condoms. maybe it’s the fact that this is the first time you’re alone with him in 2 weeks…
maybe it’s just time. 
“i don’t want to be broken up,” you confess, eyes glossy. “i fucked up. you fucked up. this? this is so fucking fucked up… i miss you, jungkook. i know i’m confusing and i’m a pile of broken parts—but all i know is that even though we’re not together; i don’t want to be broken up. i can’t—i don’t want it. i can’t live without you, jungkook. this is so hard. i don’t want it to be this fucking hard—”
“okay, okay—”
“and i hate that you walk in the rain for us,” you choke on your own words. “next time i’m not bringing an umbrella. we’re a family, honey. either we all walk under the umbrella or we walk in the rain together.”
“okay—”
“and why do you have a box of condoms?” you blurt out. “do you not want to have babies with me anymore? or are you sleeping with—”
“don’t even fucking finish that sentence.”
jungkook glares at you, eyes piercing and heart racing. 
you gulp.
“why do you have a box of condoms?” 
he shrugs. “yoongi called and asked me to pick him up a box. he’s going through his slut era.” 
your shoulders slump.
“i’m sorry i—i shouldn’t have looked and i shouldn’t have assumed—”
jungkook shakes his head. “no, no… it’s okay. this is good. i want you to talk about stuff like this with me. to say anything to me, really. i wait for your texts and calls all day… you have no idea how much i cried after we took zion to the kids cafe. how—for a moment—it felt like we were us again. god, ___… i want us again—mmhpfftt—”
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on your bed, you and jungkook make out. 
he’s on top (sort of. you two are laying together) and he uses one hand to cup your jaw. his lips feel soft and slippery as you reach and deepen the kiss. 
jungkook slips his tongue in every now and then, exploring your mouth as if it’s his first time kissing you… and by how he does this; it truly does feel like that. he kisses you so good, it’s hard to pull away. you don’t need air. you need him and his fucking kisses. 
“missed you,” he murmurs against your lips. 
you smile and pucker up. 
he kisses you again. 
“love you.”
you giggle as he digs himself into the crook fo your neck. 
“yah, i’m gonna be bad if you don’t say you love me back.”
you laugh and shift. he pops his head back out and gives you a playful glare. staying silent, he takes that as a sign. before you know it, you feel him tugging your pajama shorts and underwear down. you gasp as he brings his fingers to his mouth, sucks on them, and then slips them between your fold without uttering a warning. 
“w-wait—”
jungkook crashes his lips onto yours. he kisses you tender and soft, distracting you from the fact that he just shoved a finger inside you. 
you moan as you feel him curl inside. he pumps his fingers in and out, then uses his thumb to circle your clit. you pull away from him, and he smirks as he watches your facial expressions change. 
your eyebrows furrow, then they don’t. 
your mouth parts and tiny moans escape your puffy lips. 
the corner of your lips twitches every time jungkook hits the right spot. 
it’s all just so beautiful. he loves seeing how pretty you are when you take him. he can’t help but lean in and kiss you every so often. 
jungkook continues to finger you. your pussy is so wet, it’s a breeze finger fucking it. jungkook also can’t fucking look away. god, he loves watching you. he loves how you shut your eyes and murmur his name. he loves that you pout every time you want him to kiss you… which he does. he gives it to you. all the kisses in the world—he gives you his. 
 “what’s the matter?” jungkook teases you. “why you making that face?”
you gasp as jungkook fastens his speed. he rubs you like there’s no tomorrow. 
“h-holy sh-shit!” you cry, reaching to hold onto his wrist. "uh, uh, mhmm! f-fuck..."
he lets you. 
jungkook cups your jaw with his other hand and looks into your pretty eyes. your eyes sparkle with desperation—a plead if you will. 
make me cum. 
“cute,” jungkook hisses. “so fucking cute.” 
you mimic his hiss as he continues to finger you. your stomach twitches and your hips jolt. he lets out a light laugh when your body reacts like this. 
“d-don’t laugh. takes y-you like 5 seconds t-to cum when i suck your d-dick—”
as your lips meet again—this time—time stops. 
the world around you two fades into a soft blur.
the warmth radiating from jungkook ignites something deep within you. it’s a gentle exploration at first, a soft brush of lips that sends a thrill coursing through your veins. You can feel his breath against your skin, warm and inviting, urging you closer.
the kiss deepens, transforming from hesitant sweetness to a fervent dance of longing. he adds another finger, earning a moan from you. he snickers against your lips. regardless, there’s a softness to the way he holds you. there’s a tenderness that belies the heat building between you two. every gentle press of his mouth is like an unspoken promise, a connection that draws you in, making you forget the rest of the world.
making you forget about time. 
you responds eagerly, leaning into him, feeling the pulse of their shared rhythm. his lips are a perfect fit against yours. it’s intoxicating. the way he kisses you is a mix of passion and reverence, as if every moment spent in this embrace is sacred. 
the taste of him lingers—sweet and a little bit electric, leaving you craving more.
soon, his hand on your jaw slides down to the hem of your frilly top. you comply to his hints and slide your spaghetti straps off. he then tugs your top down to your stomach, revealing your breasts. eagerly, he brings palms them. then, he brings his hand back to your jaw, tilting your head to deepen the kiss further. you can feel his heartbeat matching yours, a silent conversation between their souls. 
in this moment, there’s no past, no future—only the here and now. 
“f-fuck—” you pull away, feeling the rushing burn and intensity of your climax. "honey—"
“what’s wrong, honey?” jungkook messes with you. “what’s the matter?”
“i’m gonna—nghhh!”
jungkook finishes you off. he fingers you fast and hard. you lose your breath, trying to soak in this orgasm. as you reach your high, you feel it. as much as you want to tell him to slow down and stop; you can’t. you can’t because you know what’s coming—
you squirt. 
“oh my god, oh my god, oh m-my—”
“fuck. yeah? that’s it, mama.” jungkook mumbles, taking his fingers out and gently rubbing in between your folds. your pussy tightens and you honestly see stars all around the room. 
jungkook catches this look and chuckles. he leans in, kissing you once more. you chase after his lips when he pulls away. catching your breath, your foreheads touch. both slightly dazed, you pucker your lips and kiss his cheeks and neck. then, you catch his gaze, a mix of mischief and sincerity in his eyes, and know they’ve crossed a threshold. 
it’s more than just a kiss; it’s a promise of what’s to come, something profound that lingers in the space between them.
“love you.”
���love you too.”
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jungkook wakes up as he feels zion climbing into bed with you. sleepily, he places the back of his hand on zion’s forehead, but zion shifts away, groggy and fussy, swatting jungkook’s hand aside before snuggling closer to you.
you shift and reach over to feel zion’s forehead; he lets you.
“still has a fever,” you say, your voice dry and half-asleep. with your eyes still closed, you decide, “no daycare today.”
jungkook hums in agreement, feeling the warmth radiating from his son. he then moves closer to you two, putting his arm around zion. but zion huffs, grumbling in annoyance, and moves jungkook’s arm away, throwing his own over your body instead. you wrap your arms around zion, feeling his small frame relax against you.
jungkook sleepily opens his eyes and can’t help but feel left out.
“i hate you,” he groans, a playful pout forming on his lips. “why does he hate me so much when he’s sick?”
you let out a sleepy laugh, glancing at zion's scowling face. his little brow is furrowed, and he mutters, “daddy, stop. i don’t like you.”
the comment makes you chuckle. you hold zion tighter and kiss his cheeks, but he scrunches his face in irritation, clearly only wanting you to soothe him.
jungkook huffs, sitting up in disbelief. “you know he loves you—”
“i’m making breakfast,” jungkook mumbles, leaning over to kiss the top of your head. “want some coffee?”
you hum, your eyes still heavy with sleep. “i’d love some coffee,” you tell him. “... but i don’t have a coffee maker.”
jungkook nods, fully gaining consciousness now. “that’s fine. i’ll go out and buy some. i’ll be back.”
“okay,” you yawn, smiling at him. “sounds good, honey.”
as he gets up, zion whines softly, shifting closer to you, his little body still grumpy and unwilling to be touched by anyone but you. he buries his face in your side, and you can’t help but smile at the way he clings to you, seeking comfort while remaining stubbornly resistant to jungkook’s affection.
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by the time you and zion wake up and wash up, jungkook has a whole breakfast spread ready on the kitchen island.
“wow!” you say with excitement. “zi, look! daddy made so much breakfast—”
“no.” zion turns his cheek. "no thank you daddy."
“no? no thank you daddy?” jungkook chimes in, approaching zion. he offers his arms and zion turns his cheek at his own father. 
“no daddy. only mommy.” 
jungkook hisses. “yah, zion… it’s a little much now. i’m beginning to take it personally.” 
you laugh and reach for him. placing your hand on jungkook’s cheek, you run your thumb against his lips. “hi, honey. good morning. thanks for breakfast.”
jungkook smiles and leans over to you, ignoring zion being trapped in the middle. he kisses you softly. 
“good morning, beautiful—”
“no!” zion pushes jungkook’s chest. “stop it. my mommy. no kissing my mommy.”
jungkook rolls his eyes. “zi, do you know you wouldn’t exist right now if i didn’t kiss mommy?”
“honey!”
jungkook laughs and playfully pokes zion. at first, zion doesn’t like it but he breaks character and cracks a smile. soon enough, he begins to laugh and reaches for jungkook. happily, jungkook takes his child and shows him all the food he prepared. 
you watch them and can’t help but just feel… good. relieved and happy. 
it’s been a long time since you felt this way. 
jungkook hands you your coffee. you thank him and sip it. it tastes good. it tastes familiar, it tastes comforting… it tastes like it’s exactly what you need. 
“oh,” jungkook reaches inside his pocket and takes a box out. “this is for you.”
tiffany and co. 
you look at him, eyes wide and throat dry. 
jungkook bounces zion a few times before swinging him around. he then puts him down and points to his toys on the living room floor. zion smiles and runs to his toys. while jungkook is bent down, he changes his position and settles on one knee. 
he looks up at you.
“when i said that your career got in the way of us—that’s not what i meant to say. what i meant to say is that i missed you. back then, it felt like every time you came home; you just came home. you weren’t coming home to me—”
“jungkook, please understand that—”
“no,” he sniffs. “part of me fears that if i understand, i’ll agree with you—that we’ve messed up too much to fix this, that this is where we end. but i refuse to accept that. so, here’s my conclusion: even when i don’t understand you, i’ll love you through it. i will see through it. as crazy as it sounds, i believe in you more than myself. you won’t let me down, okay? i want to understand, even if i keep failing. just let me try—for the rest of my life. i love you, ___. i want to come home. i want to come home to you.”
he then opens the box and reveals the ring. 
it’s beautiful. 
“___, will you marry me?”
yes.
you want to say yes.
instead, you say; “what about new york?”
jungkook swallows.
“the offer is mine for one more week,” he explains. “new york is mine if i want it… but you’re what i want.”
“jungkook…”
“please,” he begs. “i don’t want to choose.”
you take a breath. 
“are you asking—no—telling me to?” you ask, your heart racing.
he doesn’t answer, and silence stretches between you, thick with unspoken words. each second feels like a lifetime, the weight of his gaze pulling you in. you can feel your pulse quicken, a mix of excitement and fear swirling inside you.
“is it really one or the other?” you finally ask, breaking the tension.
“i don’t know,” he replies, his voice barely above a whisper.
what does it mean to choose?
to say yes to one dream over another? the prospect of new york glimmers like a distant star, bright and promising, yet here in this moment, everything else fades. it’s just the two of you, the air is thin (as my waist).
you want to say yes, to embrace all the hurt and finally take it all... but doubts creep in—what if you choose him and he regrets it? what if you both lose everything? the future looms ahead, uncertain and daunting, but there’s also a warmth in your chest, a flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, love is enough because timing is on your side. that maybe, after all these years falling asleep next to him; you two dream the same dream.
“jungkook,” you finally breathe, feeling the weight of your decision. the world outside blurs as you focus on the man in front of you, the man who has laid his heart bare. can love really be enough to hold you both together?
his eyes search yours, filled with an intensity that sends shivers down your spine. in this moment, every hesitation fades. you know that whatever you choose will shape not just your future, but both of yours.
you take a deep breath, the anticipation heavy in the air, and feel the gravity of the moment.
as you look into his eyes, you see a reflection of your own uncertainty mingled with hope. there’s something electric between you, an unspoken understanding that transcends words. the way he holds your gaze makes your heart race, a silent promise hanging in the balance.
time seems to stretch like a taut string, each heartbeat echoing in the silence as you search for answers in each other’s eyes. the world around you fades away, leaving only the two of you in this suspended moment. in this stillness of you and jungkook, you two want the same things;
for time to be on your side.
for love to be enough.
for the choice to be right.
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tommybuckleykinard · 2 days
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this fandom is getting ridiculous lmao
what you mean oliver didnt go into detail about bucktommy??? lmao of course he didn't that'd be giving us spoilers since he said the time skip wasn't that big
and some of these folks tryna use this as a gotcha are the same people praising certain journalists for not giving spoilers after they got screeners. and now they suddenly think oliver was gonna spoil shit and that he didn't is a bad sign. make it make sense pls
this is too funny
every day some of these folks remind me how young they are. cuz they react like oliver saying "the relationship with tommy is much more where it was left off, it's in early stages, they're still learning and figuring things about each other and what a relationship might or could look like" is somehow a bad thing.
these are two men over 30 tryna balance life, work and a relationship, and them having convos about their future together and what that'd look like is actually a very good thing. this a very good convo to have in the early stages of a relationship and it shows how seriously they're taking it. they're too old to play around and they both seem like they're ready to settle down.
both oliver and lou have implied that their characters want love and are ready for a serious long term relationship. oliver especially is tired of the hamster wheel buck has been on. also this show isnt gonna be around for another 12 seasons. tough convos have to happen quick. oliver saying "might or could look like" is not a red flag, it's actually really good because it shows they're treating this like a serious long term relationship and they're both tryna figure out what they want from it and each other. and saying any more than that would just be spoilers for the beginning of the season and of the early stages of bucktommy's relationship.
I'm glad that it seems like we'll maybe actually get to see this on screen.
I hope we see their first ILYs
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miasmaghoul · 1 day
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WAHHHH AEON CONVINCING EVERYONE THEYRE HIS FIRST. thinkijg thoughts about omega and aether breaking him in and then hes all virgin to whoevers next and after they go to aether like “why did u not fuck the new guy??” and aethers like i did?? and it all comes out but they keep it a secret to see how long/how many ghouls/papas aeon can get with his bit
I think Aether is his first, and he's enough of a gentleman not to let anyone know. Not his information to share - well except for one night when he replays it all for Dew in excruciating detail, but that's easily taken care of with a little quintosis. No harm done.
Swiss is Aeon's second, though, and he's been enough of an actual first to be able to see right through Aeon's coy smiles and the way he bats his lashes. It's easy enough to figure out who was:
"Can't believe I haven't gotten my hands on you yet."
Swiss murmurs it into his throat, both hands shoved into Aeon's hastily undone jeans. One tugging at his semi and the other curled around his bony hip, Swiss' rough fingers petting at his hole. Aeon's gasping already, still half-tangled in the hoodie he was removing when Swiss shoved him onto one of the hotel beds. This is what he gets for spending all evening - hells, all day, really - being a flirty little shit, he supposes. He licks his lips and swallows hard, putting on his best innocent face; wide, damp puppy eyes, pouty lips, the whole nine yards. Swiss stares down at him like a wolf who's pinned a deer, smile sharp even without his fangs, and Aeon's heart skips in his chest. He knew Swiss would be rough, but this is a thrill.
"Surprised Aether didn't get you first," Swiss rumbles with a twist of his wrist, and Aeon gives himself away when his eyes glaze over.
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Swiss isn't even sure if the other ghoul knows he does this, or if the others have caught it, but when Aeon really remembers something he sort of...disappears for a second. Just for a heartbeat, very easy to miss if you aren't looking for it, but Swiss has spent more than enough time with the new kid to pick up on it. It's like he's reliving the moment he's been reminded of in a flash. Swiss wonders if it has something to do with his magick; Omega had something of a photographic memory, maybe Aeon has something similar? He doesn't know.
What he does know, is that when he says Aether's name Aeon does that thing where he goes away for a moment, and his cock flexes so hard they both choke.
So that's a yes, then.
Swiss doesn't say a word, lets Aeon play the blushing virgin because, well, it's not like he isn't into that, and holds him close afterwards. Gives him a bath and orders his favorite takeout meal before they go to sleep. He even lets Aeon be the big spoon.
He calls Aether while Aeon's in the shower the next morning, just to make sure, and the silence when he asks Aether if he knows if Aeon's slept with anyone is so, so loud. Swiss says it's kinda hot that Aeon likes to play pretend, and they both manage to squeeze out a quick one and agree to keep this knowledge to themselves before Aeon's even done in the bathroom. Swiss texts Aether a quick video of him blowing a kiss with his cummy hand, and Aether responds in kind.
After that, I think Mountain is next, but he isn't one to brag. Rain comes after that, but is suspicious about being Aeon's first despite his shy admissions while Rain was between his legs. He finds out for sure via a good ol' fashioned footjob, because Mountain would give up nuclear launch codes if it meant having the chance to feel Rain's toes work the head of his cock. Rain doesn't feel particularly miffed - the kid put on a good show, after all, and good sex is good sex. He and Mountain both think they're the only ones, though, so they agree to keep it between them.
Word gets out after Dew has his turn with Aeon and brags about it to Swiss over gas station coffee a few days later. Swiss, who cannot for the life of him let the little guy have anything, and immediately snorts into his styrofoam cup. Rain overhears them and they all share a knowing snicker (as soon as Dew finishes scowling) once they figure out Aeon's little game. Swiss calls Cirrus over to let her know, just in case Aeon's tried the same thing with her, and she looks absolutely delighted.
"He asked me just yesterday if I would "answer some questions about his body"," she shares, accepting a sip of Dew's hot chocolate. "That he's experiencing some "new things" and has "questions about girls." He was blushing like a whore in church and everything."
The squeak of sneakers on slick tile echoes behind them, and a pair of lanky arms loop themselves between Swiss and Rain's shoulders.
"Speak of the devil," Swiss grunts, Aeon tugging him down to plant a good morning kiss on his cheek. Aeon grins.
"Mornin' Cir," he greets with a nod, ignoring the rest of them entirely. The ghouls share a collective eye roll. "I just talked to Papa, like you asked." If the new kid's tail was out, it would be wagging like an excited retriever's. "He said it's $750 for tomorrow and $1250 for Thursday, but if you need more then just use the black card."
Cirrus gives him a warm smile, reaching across their little circle to ruffle his hair. Aeon beams at her, might as well have hearts in his eyes when she cups his chin and says,
"Good boy, thank you."
Cirrus gives his cheek an affectionate pat, and that blush they've all come to know by now makes its appearance.
"Tell you what - come to my room tonight. You can help me pick out where we stay for the next few nights. I can show you all sorts of secrets," she adds, giving him a slow once over that makes Aeon flush down his throat. "About how to pick the right hotel in these smaller areas, of course," she clarifies, handing Dew back his lipstick-stained cup and straightening her coat. "I might even have the girls drop in and give you some extra hints."
Cirrus winks, and Aeon's walk to the bus is slow and awkward. They all have the kindness to hold in their laughter until he's out of earshot, but Swiss and Rain both have tears running down their cheeks by the time they calm down.
"Don't break the kid, Cir," Dew says through a cough, wiping his eyes. "I have at least one more ticket for that ride."
"No promises," she grins, eyes sparkling. "Oh he's going to be fun."
That night, Cumulus and Aurora have him together, with Cirrus guiding them all through a very thorough anatomy lesson because Aeon is just so new to all this and has no idea what he's doing, please don't tell anyone:((((. And they're all just so sweet to him, so giving, even after it starts to hurt because they just know he must have so much stuffed inside those tight little balls of his if this is his first time!
They pinky swear not to tell anyone that he cries.
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hyunebunx · 1 day
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💛 w/ felix please!!
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˖˙ ᰋ ── 💛- 'a kiss shared during sunset, often romantic and serene'
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﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. genre: fluff!! the fluffiest kind
﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. a/n: i loved writing this sm :( it's a little self indulgent but i still hope you'll like it! thank youu for requesting!! <333
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Sunsets were your absolute favorite.
It might sound cliché or overrated, but witnessing such mesmerizing beauty whenever you were lucky enough to, genuinely made life worth living to an extent other things didn’t. Beauty was in the eye of the beholder but nobody could deny the one of a kind colors and the bright light that was slowly dimming with every minute that passed weren’t painting one of the most gorgeous pictures of them all. Mother Nature herself was the most talented artist after all, her creations admired all over the world by all sorts of people, even the ones who didn’t have a keen eye for the arts in the first place.
Yet somehow, the sunset was even more dazzling now while you were admiring it with Felix, your one and only who everyone was convinced was related to the sun himself.
Lowering your hands, you let the cheap film camera dangle from your wrist casually, the sand warm under you. “I’ve always loved taking pictures of the sky.”
Felix tears his gaze from the ocean, the warm breeze softly ruffling his long blond hair as he smiles. “I know. You never miss a photo opportunity, wiping out your phone and stopping everything we do to get that perfect shot.”
You return his smile, sheepishly, bumping your shoulder into his. “So, you’ve noticed.”
“Of course I have.” He admits like he couldn’t phantom someone not noticing, leaning closer and staring at you in such a way that had you believing he forgot all about the beautiful view in front for a moment. “Because while you’re busy staring at the sky, my eyes only see you.”
Your eyes widen, heat rushing to your face alarmingly as you finally turn to look at him. Wrong move, because the sight of him takes your breath away, especially since you’re close enough to notice every single detail that made Felix who he was. His freckles were not hiding behind any makeup, spilling all over his cheeks like actual constellations – the ones on his eyelids were always your favorite, having taken too many pictures of them to even count now – plump lips naturally pink and still stretched into a faint smile that only pulled you closer by your heartstrings, tugging at them and never really letting go.
The sun was setting, and there were numerous other couples around enjoying the view and the last days of warmth on the beach, but now you could only see him.
“Now you’re just lying to fluster me.” A giggle escapes you, awkward and shy as the beautiful shades of orange begin caressing his side profile, mesmerizing you.
Felix shakes his head instantly. “Why would I?” His hand finds yours on the sand, intertwining your fingers. “People find beauty in different things. So, while you’re enthralled by the sky and all of its colors, I’m bewitched by you and only you.”
Bewitched, like you were some sort of otherworldly being in his eyes, a piece of art deserved to be hung in a museum in its own separate section, surrounded by security 24/7.
You’ve never doubted Felix’s love for you but at the same time, you had no idea he regarded you so highly, in the same way you did him.
Without a second thought, you lean over and plant a lingering kiss on his cheek, feeling his smile widen before you get the chance to pull away, happiness radiating off of him.
“Sure, the sky is beautiful.” You nod, a little tongue-tied and emotional by his previous statement. “But there’s something I love capturing in pictures even more.”
His brows furrow, turning his whole mind upside down in search of the answer he’s looking for, sure you’ve told him about this before. There was no way he wouldn’t remember.
You reach to smooth out the skin and stop him from stressing. Felix beams in response, catching your fingers and bringing them to his mouth to kiss one by one.
The waves were crashing against the shore, bringing a rare serenity you and Felix could never get enough of as the sun seemed to pause its descent to also witness your love, giving you a few more moments of light.
“The moon?” He tries, thoughtful while bringing your hand to his chest.
You shake your head and almost close the distance between you to whisper. “You.”
Then, you kiss him, tenderly and softly like you’re afraid once you pull back and open your eyes he will disappear like he was nothing more than a fragment of your own imagination. Or a ray of sunshine personified whose time ran out and he needed to hurry home and be among his people, to allow the moon to take front stage.
Felix holds your hands like he feels the same, not believing someone like you was actually real and bothered to give him the time of day.
There is no rush or desperation, just two people who love each other like it wasn’t the first time, like they somehow met before in a past life and were separated by the cruel passing of time. Like soulmates destined to find each other over and over again, guided by the red string of fate that never tore no matter how far apart your paths were, or what obstacles dared to stand in your way.
When you pull away, he chases after you, pecking your lips repeatedly until he’s satisfied. But he doesn’t seem to get enough, deepening the kiss at the last second while pulling you even closer as he wraps an arm around your shoulders to feel you near.
The sun is almost gone when you come back for air, forehead resting against your lover’s as you both break into the biggest smiles, delighted to be together and make even more memories.
And for once in your life, you don’t mind missing a sunset for you found an even more beautiful view. 
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thenamesblurrito · 1 day
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so. Transformers ONE was a good movie
i HIGHLY recommend going in blind, i do think it's incredibly effective with as few spoilers as possible beforehand! seeing it on the big screen is really really nice too, i encourage you to watch it in theaters without reading up on it first if you can!
long full-spoiler review and dissection of elements below (i reached the text block limit a couple times oops):
general stuff:
gorgeous. just genuinely visually gorgeous. so many details, colors, textures, everything was so beautiful. the stylization itself may not be my favorite but it was executed so well that i ended up loving it. their optics! their colors! their movement! the way the visuals serve the lore and the story is extremely well done too, i felt like everything i was seeing was deliberate, relevant, and a treat for the audience instead of just "ooo visual noise look at how powerful our cgi rendering is" (which is how i felt about the "live action" Lion King prequel(????) ad they showed before). all the little cameos and repaints and everything in the background? mwah. GORGEOUS MUSIC TOO AAAA THE WAY THAT TFP'S MOTIF IS IN THERE AAAA
the visual effects and action, the way they USED their roboticness/transformation sequences/vehicle modes in fighting and moving and emoting, it was VERY GOOD. Orion grabs a Death Tracker and RIPS THEM INTO PIECES BY TRANSFORMING AROUND THEM AND FORCING THEIR FRAME TO SHATTER. insanity
this is ABSOLUTELY the origin story movie the fandom has wanted. even if it wasn't your preferred origin story, this movie SHONE with love and respect for the franchise and drew on so many influences to craft a powerful version of the beginning we all wanted to see
in some ways i wish we had more, i think it would've been extremely effective to see things expanded upon, especially D-16's emotional descent and maybe some more Quints. actually looking at the content and pacing of the movie though, and the audience it's aimed at, i don't think there's anything they should've cut in favor of other stuff. i understand why it wasn't dwelt on more, but hooooo i would've liked to see Dee breaking apart a little more thru the middle of the film. apparently the novelization has more scenes of this and i would love to read it
i had so much fun watching this movie. it was a rollercoaster. it was a TREAT. i was sitting there enjoying every second both times i saw it because it was a good film that rewarded me greatly for being a Transformers fan, giving me so many easter eggs and injokes, while also being perfectly understandable and fun for a complete newbie. excellently balanced appeal to old and new fans alike
there was no wink to the audience about how stupid and childish a movie about robots is, there was no lampshading of how silly sci fi is, there was no betrayal of the emotional tone of the film. so many stories now kneecap themselves by mocking their very concept, and the audience watching them, in a very cinema sins-style irony poisoned way. this movie never does that. its humor is fitting, its drama is real, its emotion is all SINCERE and i love how i was never mocked by any part of the movie for engaging with it sincerely
this movie loved being a Transformers movie
anyways. specific stuff:
love how Wheeljack managed to explode everything despite not even being a scientist. he's just THAT good
THE INJOKES AND REFERENCES. "you don't have the touch OR the power." calling them Gobots. the corny More Than Meets The Eye bits. "don't be a glitch" is a headcanon swear i've been using for years now and they canonized it!! "High Guard, eject". "paging doctor Ratchet." the new take on "all are one". the really interesting way that the term Transformers is an actual significant in-universe name, and how Orion and Dee ARE NOT Transformers at first!
the sheer number of cameos is ASTOUNDING. what an excellent mix of masc/fem designs too, they really made it normal on this Cybertron which i appreciate! apparently Blurr exists here, his name was on the leaderboard!!!!!! good job Chromia i am so proud of you for winning. and the shots of the bots getting cogs at the end was aaAAA!!! <<33 my HEART! Jazz's little smile looking at his new doorwings!!
I GOT ALL MY SILLY OLD DEMIGOD FAVES I GOT THE THIRTEEN EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THEM AAAAAA ALPHA TRION MY GRANDPA god i'm so sorry you're dead but i can't believe you showed up on the big screen <<333 you and your rockin rhino unicorn lion alt mode. and your superpowers. god you're so cool. "old timer" NUH UH HE'S STILL BETTER THAN YOU!!!!! using Zeta for the thirteenth was an interesting choice! i did think he was Overlord for a hot second. it's the lips. Solus wasn't fridged by virtue of everyone else died too yippee!! ALSO MEGATRONUS THE COOLEST ONE WOOOO HES NOT JUST A FIERY EVIL GUY!!!!
the way Dee himself was, in a way, the Fallen of this continuity.... 😭
the way Sentinel was handcrafting his downfall with each touch of the blowtorch. carving the sigil of the Decepticons into the one who will kill him. dooming Cybertron in a moment of petty mockery. AND HE DOESN'T EVEN DRAW IT WELL IT'S LIKE A MESSY CRAYON DRAWING CMON
planetformer Primus in a blockbuster movie? CANONICAL EXPLICITLY STATED PLANETARY ROBO MPREG BIRTH IN THE FIRST FIVE MINUTES???? THEY USE THE WORD BIRTH. BORN. we are never escaping the reproductive insanity in this franchise
Shockwave you whiny tantrum throwing wuss. let Elita beat him up more. it's good for him. also love how that could be construed as a ref to her G1 resistance force
CASUAL MIND READER SOUNDWAVE???????
Elita was perfect, no notes. i would not like her if i met her but i respect her so much. she really is better in every way and down to business. Best First indeed
so much cool implications and fascinating timeline confusion. 50 cycles since the Primes were slaughtered? the way Sentinel leveraged their reputation to make himself beloved, casting himself as their peer? the way he didn't choose to villainize them, the way he apparently openly admitted to the loss of the Matrix and how it impacted the planet? when did cog theft start, and how old is Orion since in the novelization it states his entire generation is cogless? who remembers the og Primes? who is in the know about it all?? hoooghhghhh fascinating.
the implication that the High Guard worked with the og Primes?? the possibility STARSCREAM was a loyal guard for Cybertron's DEMIGODS????
okay i was not expecting a backstory for STARSCREAM'S VOICE in this movie but holy. god. the shippers will be going insane over this one. hoogh holy fit. what is wrong with you. the utter contradiction of being both an instigator and a coward when he gets in over his head and immediately backpedals
also obviously this is the I Love Divorce movie and megop shippers will be having a field day but i DEEPLY appreciate just how solid a friendship Dee and Orion have and how badly they fall apart, even thru a strictly platonic lens. i also appreciate how there was no forced comphet attraction/romance!! i was dreading the possibility of it, i mean Oplita was RIGHT THERE but they didn't force it at all thank youuuuuu. i would rather have this dynamic with its zero intended romance than awkward, OOC attraction shoehorned in to detract from the plot
Bee was actually good! like yeah he's def the kid appeal character and i prefer it when he's in a younger gen and not OP's peer, but he was wayyyyy less annoying than i was expecting! i think he fit the movie and did his job in it well, and i absolutely laughed at him multiple times. "i get to work for the GOVERNMENT! :DDDD" bee. please. the fact that he's been going insane and desperate after isolation for so long really helps make his character work instead of being just irritating
Airachnid you are so cool. you are TOO COOL. PLEASE TONE DOWN YOUR COOLNESS. i adore how she is not good at facial expressions thank you evil autism moments. love how her signature move is stabbystabbystabbystabbystabbystabby
Sentinel. god. Sentinel. SENTINEL!!!!!!!!!!!!!
i need to draw him getting ripped in half. it's like they distilled the worst parts of every single iteration and combined them into a SuperBad version. horrifically realistic kind of guy. i love to hate him. real Metro Man from Megamind energy. and megachurch pastor energy. the IRONY that Orion and Dee were probably actually helping him, that he was probably being genuine in the medbay when he said he loved what they did by racing, that he may have been honest when he said he was gonna have them fixed up in his own facilities and had them tour the mines! because them racing increased energon production by 150% and Sentinel needed that!!! he needed that for the Quintessons!!! i think he was being genuine when he first met Dee and Orion and then Darkwing ruined everything!!!
Darkwing is the curly straw of this continuity
the Quintessons were hoooooooooooooooo. whoooooooooogh. hoohhhhhhhhhhhh. the biomechanical. the shapes. the textures. eugh. icky. creepy. excellent. the way their ships looked like the Nemesis. the way they're STILL a looming threat. i wanted to see more of them but i get why the movie wasn't about them. i hope we see more in the future
the way Orion is the kind of guy who, in an attempt to be selfless, keeps making selfish or thoughtless decisions was SO INTERESTING. it set up the dynamic of his and Dee's friendship very well, with Orion always wanting the best for his buddy but ultimately overwriting or ignoring what Dee says!! the way Dee clings to the social contract of protocol for safety because that's all he knows and his ANGER when it's broken, even when it's Orion breaking it, because that's not SAFE it's an UNKNOWN it has CONSEQUENCES WHEN YOU DEVIATE. and then it's revealed that the social norms have been a lie the whole time and Sentinel has "broken protocol" more than ever and Dee has no safety left because it was always broken. Orion wanted to be more, he could feel there was more. Dee just wanted security
Dee spent so much of the movie complaining and arguing and it was very funny and good characterization but it was also a hint at how much bitterness was under there the whole time. so much of his complaints were threats of violence. he always had Orion's back and then when he learns the truth he abruptly. stops. do you notice he doesn't really have Orion's back after this? he's no longer by his side? he's there, but he's not... there. he was the first to shoot an enemy and took joy in it. all of his emotions were so justified and then what he does with them is what makes it a tragedy. he didn't have to do this. augh
i really, really like the fact that they managed to pull off the ending without it fully turning into a "boohoo if we do anything violent we're as bad as the bad guys waaaa". the specific phrasing of "rebuilding cannot start with an execution" went HARD. and it's demonstrated in their actions too like, Dee was out for REVENGE and it was PERSONAL, Orion was fighting for JUSTICE and it was UNIVERSAL. Sentinel was beaten, everyone knew the truth. it was over. but Dee in his (very justified!) anger and broken trust was too overcome to back down. they were given the power to change their worlds, but Dee was thinking only of his world. Orion was thinking of everyone
ironic that as soon as Orion starts thinking of other people and considering what they need instead of forging ahead, Dee decides to center his own feelings and actions to the point of murder. even after Sentinel was dead, he just kept shooting, he did NOT AT ALL care that some of those shots were clearly hurting innocent civilians/going wide and shooting out into the city/damaging actual important infrastructure and not just Sentinel statues. i believe it's Bee who said "he's gonna kill everyone" and he proves it by attacking Elita and saying "I won't stop until every last one of his followers is dead". THE FACT THAT HE FELL SO FAR AS TO SEE ELITA, HIS PEER AND FELLOW FREEDOM FIGHTER WHO WAS THERE WORKING AGAINST SENTINEL WITH HIM FROM THE START OF THIS QUEST, AS ONE OF SENTINEL'S FOLLOWERS.... by the end of it, Dee really was nothing but blind anger
and the way kneeling was a common thread!!!!! aaaaaaa. Sentinel betrayed the world by kneeling to the enemy. Dee won respect by refusing to kneel. Orion gained followers by willingly kneeling to his peers. hooghh
Orion jumping and stumbling and falling this whole movie because he just THROWS himself into things because he BELIEVES in things, he's the one to take leaps of faith, to take that step out into the unknown! and Dee refusing to save him as one final nail in the coffin, so clearly feeling like Orion jumping in front of the blast was yet ANOTHER way Orion is forcing his hand, corralling him into doing something he thinks is best but did not consult him on, finally FINALLY saying NO and leaning in to the tragedy!! and in the exact same way Sentinel handcrafted his enemy in Dee, Dee has now handcrafted his enemy in Orion!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA and now that Orion took that last leap of faith and fell, now is when he RISES. ONE SHALL FALL AND ONE SHALL RISE. god. it reminds me of Spiderverse, the way they use falling and rising
the way the tragedy is worse for how well everyone was working together.... for one shining moment, the miners and the High Guard, the rescue mission, it was going so well. they were doing it. they were winning. it didn't have to turn to slaughter. if there was to be an execution it should've been by trial, by the voice of the people, not Dee deciding for Cybertron as Sentinel decided what truth was. augh.
in an abruptly different note, the way they have characters move and fly is so cool. i love the jetpacks. i love how flight is not "flyer" exclusive. it's fascinating and i think really fitting for the general city of Iacon itself. all those towers going up and down
THE TRAINS!! THE MOVING ROADS!! HOW COOL IS THAT!! LOOK AT THAT WORLDBUILDING IM OBSESSED WITH THIS CYBERTRON HOOGH. this movie was VERY good at building a rich, functional world of detail and making it very alien in a way i want to chew on forever. the moving mountains and greebled energon mines. the living planet. the deer!!! ooghghh. PRIMUS LOOKS LIKE A STAR
i do like this Primus actually, yeah it was a deus ex machina but that's the POINT. Optimus himself is an act of god and his presence heralds miracles. Dee couldn't bring justice to Cybertron because justice is restoration. justice is healing what was hurt and doing right by the wronged. yes that often means consequences upon the perpetrator but that's NOT what Dee was doing, he wasn't even THINKING of anyone else!! would killing Sentinel get ppl out of the mines? would it restore their cogs? would it bring equality to a clearly oppressive society? like he LIVED this (cogless bots with limited options, the talk of tiers as if they are social castes you can be demoted from, lower city levels where ppl can be banished, etc) but it was Orion who ultimately addressed this. i'm sorry if it feels like insult to injury to rub his Primacy in your face, Megatron, but stealing a cog just like Sentinel and declaring the age of Primes over, when it was the age of Primes ending that made you cogless and oppressed in the first place, is only an extension of your trauma, anger, and violence, and is not solving the problem!
a cog stolen from him at birth! and then he steals it from Sentinel in symbolic revenge, stolen again, but even that wasn't Sentinel's, it was stolen too! the way he discards the cog from Onyx, willingly gifted to him, to continue the trend of desecrating the dead! man. MAN. the name he took, the cog he took, the symbol he took, all from his hero, the one he looked up to, the coolest Prime, and THEN DECLARED THE AGE OF PRIMES OVER
the gilded pompous showmanship of it all was so gross, the way Sentinel's face was everywhere, the way he had instant access to everyone in Iacon via announcements that took over the media. but this was clearly derived from the previous Primes!! we see their statues, we see their stately tower, and unless Sentinel had all that built in "mourning" (which is totally plausible imho) he was really just setting himself up as an inheritor of that hyperwealthy standard! we don't know anything about the rule of the og Primes beyond that they're favorably remembered and loved (possibly because of propaganda but i think it was also genuine) and that they may have been losing the Quint war (considering that info was from jerkwad supreme i find it suspect) but just by comparison to Sentinel i think they HAD to be better rulers. there weren't cogless bots forced to mine for 20 shifts in a row back then!!! Sentinel is stealing their aesthetic as if that gets him the same power and acclaim. he's trying to steal their legitimacy. he paints himself across the face of Iacon to hide the fact the planet itself went into a coma because of him. he has ALWAYS been rejected. i call him a megachurch pastor but really symbolically i could say he's a fallen angel, and his visual design really fits too
i'm coming back to the deus ex machina thing bc i know it may be considered weak in a plot construction sense but i want to engage with it as literal. like, there is a literal in-universe god in the machine. they know it. they worship it, at least a little bit. i would consider this story to be analogous to Prince of Egypt, in that the deific is a real and tangible character with impact on the plot, and not a meta excuse to save the day. Orion made his choice, and as a result Primus made HIS choice. it's not necessarily a happy ending but if even Megatron acknowledges that GOD mandated this guy to be a Prime and the planet itself responds by COMING BACK TO LIFE.... i keep thinking of it like a cityspeaker, how they're the ones who commune with Titans to know their needs and tell them what needs to be done. is a Prime just the cityspeaker of Cybertron, able to help it remain healthy and functional?
the divine right to rule is REAL on Cybertron. you can like it or not but you have to contend with that when discussing fair leadership, political accountability, and representation of the masses re: Cybertronian government and Primacy
god i'm still so obsessed with the Thirteen i need to see them better i need to look at them. i love them. insane. i really need to invest in a chewtoy
also i know it may be a throwaway line but i'm very curious why Primus had to transform and sacrifice himself to save the universe. Unicron, maybe???
also how did Alpha Trion narrate the archival stuff telling the fake story of how the Primes died and the Matrix was lost. did Sentinel get a deepfake of his voice?? is that part of how he made the transition to power?? AUGH THE DISRESPECT KEEPS COMPOUNDING
Alpha Trion. my blorbo. my old man. holding you so tight. like an ancient rescue dog. im gonna groom you and give you treats and buy the biggest plushest dog bed from costco for you
anyways
good movie, guys
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daistea · 2 days
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Hi Daistea! You are absolutly THE Mithrun writer! You catch his essence so well
I was wondering if you could write a prequel to "first burn"? I would love to hear more of his thoughts about cultivating his desire for intimacy and affection with reader
Thank you so much for doing such good for the fandom!
Thank you friend! Here you go, though I kinda just.. rambled with this one. I was just having fun, I hope you like it.
Mithrun x gn Reader
Post-Canon / spoilers maybe
word count: 2,200
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It wasn’t as if there was a handbook on how to cultivate desires. It wasn’t as if ‘normal’ people understood and recognized the process of desire. It wasn’t as if Mithrun had any clue what he was doing. 
 That, in and of itself, felt like a swaying tightrope he was only barely balancing on. Atop that, discomfort was a new concept. The end result was only more stark, suffocating discomfort. Mithrun usually knew what to do; if he ever had to figure something out, the solution came quickly, effortlessly. He was beginning to think he’d been spoiled in that area. Having such unfettered focus lended itself to problem solving. 
 Mithrun watched you. Perhaps he could be the one to write the handbook on desire. And there’d be an entire chapter dedicated to you. Was it possible to have a desire for desire? He supposed as much. He was stuck on the outer rims of the feeling, staring through a dusty window at what could be if only he could be. He was a planet stuck in the farthest orbit from the sun, and it was cold, and nobody really saw him there in the sky because he was so damn far away. 
 You ran your fingers through your hair. His attention snapped back to you like a taut rubber band. There must be a footnote in the handbook on cultivating desires about your small habits. You fidgeted, you shifted, your smile twisted into different shapes depending on your mood and every one of these habits must be footnoted. 
 Mithrun couldn’t help but make a grimace. He rested his chin in his palm and tore his gaze away, instead following the lines of the wooden panels in the wall of the restaurant. The handbook was going to be long— Gods, he wasn’t going to write it, he didn’t care enough to put in the effort. Nevertheless, one of the jagged lines in the wood paneling unlocked something within his brain. The very fact that he relentlessly took note of your every minute detail said something. 
 What did it say? Mithrun moved onto the next line in the wood. It gave him nothing. What did it say, Mithrun? What was the implication? It isn’t a hard question, Mithrun. Just answer. Just say it. Just—
 He clenched his fist. He clenched so hard that his knuckles turned white. You were still chatting away with the restaurant owner and he had half a mind to grab you by the waist and teleport you elsewhere, a place where you’d only pay attention to him. Only him. Perhaps that would answer the devastatingly easy implications that confounded him. 
 A wandering part of his mind, a traveler— which was a new feature: wandering— brought forth a query. What would you say about his inner turmoil? Most likely something along the lines of ‘I’m proud of you for trying, don’t pressure yourself so much.’ And he would ignore your words entirely because Mithrun wanted to want. 
 He must do something. There was that objective knowledge of what the situation required, it wasn’t exactly desire, but it was motivating. You deserved more. You deserved to have your hand held. You deserved kisses on your neck. You deserved gasps and moans and weak knees. He imagined the scene; you, beneath him, or in his lap, perhaps. You, closing your eyes, brows furrowed, whimpering as you sunk down and…
 Nothing. Mithrun knew he was making some sort of face, because a half-foot scurried past his table with wide eyes. Whatever. 
 Enough, he decided. It had been forty years since he had experienced any form of physical intimacy. While some feelings were more difficult to connect with, frustration was one of the easiest to identify. He’d had enough.
 Without a word to you— he probably should’ve given you a word, but he was in a hurry— Mithrun called upon his mana, the lingering spirits, and clenched his fist. A fourth of a second passed, a blink of an eye. He didn’t mean to end up on the kitchen floor of his apartment, but fine. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but you.
 Mithrun sighed and laid back. The tile was cool on the exposed skin of his hands as he stretched out his limbs. There were cobwebs in the corners of the ceilings. He could already feel a dull headache coming on from the hardness of the floor. Okay. 
 Routine: eyes closed, deep breaths, sinking into the floor and smelling the air and hearing the sounds. His kitchen smelled like soap. The sounds were absent. Images of you flickered through his mind, a rope gently tied around his body, pulling him deeper into the warm flood-waters. He imagined your arms, your waist, your thighs, your lips, your eyes, your laugh, your gasps, your stare, your hair, your hands, your knees, your chest, your stomach. Then, running his hands up your waist. Holding you. How would you feel with your body against his? How would your hand fit with his? 
 For a moment, Mithrun felt his heart pull and twist. Objectively, that was the physical reaction to adrenaline hormones in one’s body; anxiety. Yet, he didn’t believe he was anxious. He took a moment to wrack his brain, and the process of doing so always reminded him of the file room in the old Canaries headquarters. Papers would flip across his thumb as he searched for the right information. All he needed was a glimpse of the right set of letters, the right combination of words, until he found what he needed. 
 For an elf, forty-ish years wasn’t too long. Mithrun had spent the majority of his life as an entirely different person— may he rest in agony. He sometimes looked back on memories in order to identify a feeling. Past Mithrun would feel that pull and twist when Lord Kerensil made those snide comments about Mithrun’s biological father. That twist and pull was always present when Obrin idly, innocently, mentioned an investment deal he’d been allowed to participate in, as the heir to the House of Kerensil. That twist and pull was present when he saw Sultha send Obrin those wry smiles, how her lips twisted in a way that made Mithrun sick to his stomach. 
 To even dare associate that feeling with you brought the same nausea. 
 Yet, perhaps it wasn’t about you. 
 Perhaps it was him. Perhaps it was the self-loathing. He’d always carried it like a disease, though the symptoms only appeared in certain moments. Lately, though, he’d been sick with it more often than not. The happiness of a new purpose was parallel to the newfound connection with his more negative emotions. Mithrun supposed that it was person-hood; anger, sadness, joy, attraction, deep and intense adoration that made him physically ill when he meditated for too long about how he couldn’t quite feel the allure of a kiss. 
 That was his person-hood. Mithrun’s life was a constant struggle, and the kitchen floor felt abnormally cold that evening. 
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 Kabru suggested that Mithrun keep track of new developments. It would help him, Kabru said. Mithrun had no protests nor interest in the theory, but nothing better to do, so he had a journal. Thus far, only one page in the journal had been filled. It said: 
1. Cheese is alright, preferably on bread
 Very exciting, at least for some— you and Kabru, particularly. Mithrun had a preference! Despite your excitement, you still put up your hands and waved them as if to ward off the positivity, “You’ve always had preferences, you know. It was just easy to overlook them.”
 Mithrun supposed you were right. He had plenty to complain about. That was preference-based, in a way. Obsession over the demon was such a large issue, though, that it left no room for anything else. It was like a flood, seeping into every corner, taking every inch, leaving nothing untouched and dry. 
 The second item in the journal was:
2. Black coffee, two sugars
 That was how he used to drink it. Some things never changed. Even if the timing was different throughout the year, the sun would always rise and set.
3. Desiring some sort of physical contact involving hands (with [name] specifically)
 And when Mithrun desired something, he would have it. Inevitable. He knew from an objective standpoint that carrying on with that view would only lead to disappointment, but the desire to change did not arise.
 Mithrun began taking your hand whenever the opportunity presented itself. 
 The first time, you glanced at him. Your lips were parted and your eyes the slightest bit wider. You looked down at your intertwined fingers. Mithrun did not dare look away from your face as you studied how each finger fit together like pieces of a puzzle— designed specifically for each other. 
 When you turned your head back to the person you were originally speaking to and resumed your conversation, satisfaction like a warm blanket settled over Mithrun’s shoulders and chest. He may have looked a bit smug without realizing it, for your conversation partner sent him a look. 
Next:
4. The palm is more sensitive than I remember. I think it would be okay to use it. 
 Mithrun pressed the palm of his hand against the small of your back. You had no reaction. He wasn’t sure whether to be pleased that you accepted his touch so readily, or displeased that he saw no acknowledgement. He settled for some in-between feeling that even Past Mithrun could not identify. 
 Without putting it into certain words, Mithrun had an idea of why his skin felt so sensitive to your touch. For one, he’d gone so long without physical touch that his nerves were desert dwellers encountering an oasis for the first time. Secondly, it was the broadest part of the hand. The fingers were important, of course, they wrapped and they clutched and they stroked. Yet, the palm was deeper. It was taken for granted. Everybody in possession of fingers used them every day of their life. They were mundane, almost. The palm, though, was for cradling. The palm was for tracing. The palm was—
 Mithrun lifted your hand without a second thought. He’d nearly forgotten what shame felt like, it was another one of those objective feelings that he could identify in others but not quite connect with. Shame was not present at that moment, and he was pleased for that fact. If he had shame, then he would not experience the feeling of your palm against his lips. 
 He held your wrist with both hands. Your skin smelled like soap, and it was not exactly soft. There were lines and ridges on the palm, but he took a moment to memorize the shape of each one against his lips as he pressed a kiss to the spot between your thumb and index finger. 
 Your conversation partner looked away. You looked at Mithrun. He looked at you, his good eye fluttering open and taking in the sight of your expectancy and surprise and fondness and embarrassment. 
 Three seconds passed. Mithrun knew it was three seconds that passed because he counted. One, pause. Two, pause. Three, pause. 
 You swallowed and looked back at the person you’d been speaking to. Mithrun knew them, but didn’t care enough to allow his brain to make that connection between their face and his memories. His gaze was solely on you. Your profile was silhouetted against the orange sunset of Melini. 
 “Anyway, what were you saying?” You asked the person Mithrun didn’t care to identify— because you were the newest flood. You spread in a similar manner, filling up every inch and leaving nothing dry. Something in the back of his mind told him that that wasn’t healthy. Where there was a flood, there was mold and rot and destruction. 
 Whatever. 
 “The state of Melini,” your conversation partner said, “it’s really becoming a nation now.”
 You nodded, “It’ll take time, but we’ll get there.”
 That was such a generic statement, but you believed it. Perhaps the commonplace quality of the statement was what made it less feasible. Yet, when coming from your lips, Mithrun could almost imagine it. 
 Your lips. You said the most wonderful things, even when they were totally common and quotidian. You could tell Mithrun that the sun had exploded, and despite the clear existence of the sun in the sky at that very moment, he’d agree with you simply to see you satisfied.
 The desire to kiss you hit Mithrun like a slap to the face— no, actually, Past Mithrun had been slapped several times before, and he always knew it was coming. The desire to kiss you hit him like the taste of cheese on toasted bread, like the pleasure of a black coffee with two sugars, like the shiver down his spine when your palm pressed against his. 
 And finally, the handbook of desire was written. There were no words. It didn’t need words. 
 He desired you. 
 What even was attraction? What even was happiness and anger and desire? It was so subjective that the answer would never satisfy the inquirer. And Mithrun was tired of dissatisfaction.
 And it was time to act. 
 And it was time to open the gates. 
 And it was time to drown in desires he’d never let himself acknowledge. 
5. Start slowly. Whatever happens, happens. You can want now. 
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