#all those people saying they were under a spell make me lmao because no lmao 😂😂

[userlaylivia]

no matter how many years go by whenever I see an old post blaming cadam for the cancellation it annoys me and makes me lmao because they don't cancel shows over a ship lmao and cadam is literally the ONLY ship people should've expected/known would happen because of the books they are the main ship of the show!! I know some love to believe j/c was but they weren't they would've happened definitely but those thinking cadam was over would've been very disappointed because they weren't and would've gotten back together down the road!! they were only together three episodes they would've gotten back together eventually because three episodes wouldn't of been satisfying enough for cadam shippers and believe it or not there was a lot of cadam shippers I was in the fandom then I know lol but my point is they didn't cancel the show because of cadam and ppl that believe that just wanna believe there was a deeper reason other than the cw didn't budget right and it was too expensive I get that but cadam aren't the reason it got cancelled and I understand why some jassie shippers wanna believe that because they hate them but it's not true at all lol anyway my bbs!! they deserved so much better!! also fyi whether they got together in s1 or not they would've eventually gotten together no matter what if it had been renewed but I'm so thankful they did get together even if for a short time because they had some really beautiful scenes together!! and idc who says otherwise they would've been endgame and that's the one thing that's kept me sane since the cancellation and at least I have them endgame in the books!!

[rabbitsrams]

Omg you HAVE to further elaborate onto that inexperienced reader x inexperienced schlatt fic omfg that shit drove me UP the wall it was too good. You have made my year

oh anon i love u sm <3 yes im obsessed w this idea esp speaking as a barely experienced virgin gal :D

nsfw under the cut, minors dni!! 18+ only.

(also PLEASE lmk if u want more i love writing these!!)

so you and schlatt met in a calculus class. it was required for his major while it’s just a general education class for you. because you sit near each other in the lecture hall you're often paired together for quick discussions (those 'turn to the person next to you' talks that i dread lmao).

he always thought you were really hot but was too shy to ever say anything, mostly just thinking about you in every way imaginable while he jerks off.

and you too, your size kink rly went brr seeing his tall ass like...

you once made the mistake of looking at his hands for a little bit too long and then that was all you could think about for a week.

you eventually became friends slowly over the course of the semester which was how u started fooling around in the first place.

both of you opened up that u were both virgins and not that experienced. and this mf was really like 'oh wouldn't be funny if...'

"how am i attracted to you?"

it starts with some making out. you've both kissed people before so you were a bit familiar with it. and it's nice!

you starting to kiss down to his neck and omg his fucking reaction when you leave a hickey for the first time. he's flaunting it so everyone can see, his roommate and friends are gassing him up sooo much.

while in class he's reading on how to give a hickey and ends up giving you so. many. all over your body. did he just awaken a marking kink?

also like once you guys start you just can't get enough of each other.

he's just so. obsessed with your moans. he's watched porn loads before, he knows how exaggerated those moans are. but somehow your more subdued noises turn him on even more. AND THE WAY YOU SAY HIS NAME???? he loves it.

his face going all red when you touch him anywhere. he whimpers so much, it's like you have him under a spell.

like i said before, he's super vocal. he usually can't help himself, especially when you're on your knees sucking his cock. because duh <3

once you started sucking him off, you can't get enough. and he can't either.

blowing him under the desk in the library. oh lord help me.

wearing one of his sweaters (the harvard one came to mind particularly) for the first time and he's just. jaw dropped.

the prettiest girl ever is wearing his clothes???? if he doesn’t have you right then and there he’s jerking off to you as soon as u leave.

and also you wearing his sweaters when walking around campus and he is just so proud like wow. you're all his.

falling asleep together after your first time and waking up to his morning wood‼️ he’s so needy in the morning he’s practically humping ur leg as soon as he wakes up. thank god your roommate was out.

lazily riding him while he just gushes at how beautiful you are in the morning. fuck. me.

whenever he spends the night at your dorm or vice versa you always help him out in the mornings <3 whether it be a blowjob or a handjob or turning to your side so he can slip it in and fuck you :D so what if you've been late to class a couple times?

you call him ALL the pet names. angel. sweetheart. darling. baby.

and his for you? oh. all the ones you call him and more. toots (thats a major one). doll(face). princess. bark bark bark.

you sending him nudes for the first time one night when he's home visiting family. what starts off innocent enough, you in one of his t-shirts without any pants on turns to pics of your tits, your fingers in your pussy, then VIDEOS OF YOU MASTURBATING!!! he's ripping his jeans off as he slams his bedroom door shut and dials your number into facetime.

SKIPPING CLASS JUST TO HAVE SEX SJKLFBHEDDJKLSJK

HE DRIVES TO SOME REMOTE PLACE ON CAMPUS!!!! AND U HAVE CAR SEX FOR THE FIRST TIME OMG

it's SO awkward at first😭where do you go? the back? stay in the front? go into the trunk?

you're glad he wanted to stay in the front because OMG. RIDING HIM IN THE CAR SEAT. he tries sooooo hard not to cum too fast bc ur tits are literally in his face and your pussy is squeezing him so well fuck fuck fuck he's obsessed with you. wow.

[friedchickenluver]

I feel like it takes a while for the general populous to warm up to Zuko as Firelord and that’s mainly because of the last 100 years + his fathers reign didn’t really do anything to help the situation but he later becomes the people’s firelord and that’s with the help of his wife he drags him to charity events and with the backing of team avatar.

Now, Zuko was raised around politics but there’s a period about 5-10 years within his rule where he staunchly disagrees with his advisors mainly because they’re still brainwashed and under the spell that Ozai started with “restoring the fire nation to its former glory.” He later ends up just starting over and picking a new cabinet making sure to have at least one representative from each nation to chime in for rebuilding efforts.

Let me tell you though Zuko hates celebrations for himself and his achievements but when it’s his wife’s birthday and don’t get me started on their children. It’s like a national holiday the parties for them are magnificent.

As far as how powerful he is? Behind every great man is a far greater woman. A lot of his plans he runs by his wife before taking it to the advisors because she just knows that they’ll peddle him bullshit and depending on the day Zuko will agree so he can leave but she’s here to shut that shit down.

Now I know we joke that Izumi, the twins, and baby boy are spoiled. But I’d like to think that Zuko does take the time to bring them up as humble as possible and that’s thanks to Iroh having a big part of raising him and when they were settled in the earth kingdom for a bit. -🧚🏽‍♀️

HEAVY ON THE STARTING NEW PART . he got fed tf up with those old dudes who cared not about the country, but power and Zuko was like “fuck this shit, these mfs are UNFIXABLE.” (😂) he fired everyone after the first years of his reign because they actually began to like piss him off . Except two, which are my OCs Midjair and Indy, who were both apart of Ozai’s secretary and Zuko ranked them both up to major advisors . At first they were so traumatized from Ozai’s serving time and had some of his ideologies engraved in their head . but eventually they both showed that they were fixable and so Zuko kept them .

He’s so hellbent on making sure everyone has a say in how things run between countries and within the Fire Nation itself . I feel like he would also renovate a good portion of the castle just to make it look less depressing and intimidating .

He absolutely despises his own birthdays, like everyone including his wife will like beg him to allow them to throw a party or something for him . she’s trying to loosen him up some because he’s such a hard ass it’s basically impossible to gesture him into having some type of fun . BUT FOR THEM, oh the whole nation is going to hear about it, you should’ve seen Izumi’s sweet 16, they had to plan it a year in advance because she’s so extra like her mom . Their birthdays or him and his wife’s anniversary will be like week long events the whole country is celebrating, including endless amounts of gifts and cards, etc .

And of course Zuko would have to run down over major decisions he makes with the advisors, because as politics is mainly still a male predominant occupation, he needs an intelligent women’s opinion to make sure all side sound fair and just . And if those men ever try to convince her that her opinion is wrong in any type of way , oh she WILL shut they ass down before they can utter another word . Zuko knows it’s best if you never try his wife like that . LMAO

The kids are definitely spoiled like they just so happened to born in the right family because they get almost any and everything they can ask for . But zuko will always be quick to teach them that life is beyond anything more than material possessions and wants and needs, he will take them on visits to hang out with iroh just so they can get a slice of his wisdom . Because it’s important that they learn all factors of life before they have to guide themselves on their own journey . (🥹)

At the end of the day, Zuko will always be regarded as one of the best looking Firelord history has seen for a while . And even in times of doubt his family will always be quick to reassure him that he’s doing great and they all love him .

[honeyhuii]

Make My Heart Race

Sports Au, Nascar Au, Illegal Street racer Au, Journalist Au, Strangers to Lovers

Genre:Fluff, seriously don't know how i managed to not even add an ounce of angst

Pairing: NascarDriver!Xu Minghao x Journalist!Reader

Wordcount: 9.2k

Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of food, illegal street racing, breaking the law, possibly wrong nascar termiology

Rating: PG-13 for swearing and breaking the law lmao

A/n: This is for the Sport Au Collab hosted by @gyukult! Thank you so much Gyu for letting me apart of this amazing collab. I made some wonderful friends and thank you to those who helped me figure out plot and which banner was better. You guys are the best! I also want to thank @sungbeam for helping me with the outline, without you I would seriously still be struggling where to go with this! I would also like to thank @heeracha for letting me use her all eyes on me line! I also hope you don't mind the awkward pov switches. I tried to space out the places when I would switch them. Also, some of the parts are purely self induldge and Hao is a bit oc...

Engines rev as they wait for the chequered flag to wave signalling the start of the race. Loud music blasted from the several cars, all of different types, but all doing the same thing…making the person behind the wheel hellbent on winning the race. One racer stood out amongst the crowd, She was notorious for winning and was one of the fastest racers Seoul has seen in years. She however, could care less about winning because she just wanted to feel the adrenaline course through her veins as she sped through the streets, she just happened to win every single time. This time was no different. She sped through the streets, turning tight corners, zooming past red lights. She just loves the thrill of racing.

You quickly looked over your outfit in the mirror in front of you, making sure it is deemed appropriate for a journalist interview. This was it. You were finally going to interview the people you’ve been dreaming of meeting. You gave yourself another look in the mirror before confidently nodding to yourself and grabbed your keys off the table, heading out the door with a confident walk.

Once you looked at the building in front of you, you felt your previous confidence leave your body. You’ve never felt so intimidated by a building before until now. But, you had to present yourself with confidence, so you took a deep breath and let your anxiety release as you breathed out. You let your false confidence return to you as you walked towards the arena with a notepad and pen in your hands. You flashed the security guards your press pass and walked through the doors. You  could hear the sounds of engines roaring as you walked to the pit stops in hopes of catching one of the racers . Cars would zoom past you and you could feel the gush of cold air fly past you just as the cars did.

 You let a grin take over my face as you spotted the very racer you were hoping to be able to interview. He was just getting out of his car as you made your way towards him, as his best friend sauntered over to him with a big grin stretched across his face. The very racer you were making your way over to, notices you walking towards him and cocks his head in confusion.

He watched as she made her way over to him. There was something fascinating about her, the way she carried herself. Full of confidence and intimidation, but the man did not feel an ounce of fear or nervousness as she continued to make her way towards him. No, instead it made him curious about her. He wanted to know…No, he needed to know more about her. He was compelled to walk over to her. To start a conversation, to talk to her. It was like he was under a spell or some magnetic force that pulled him towards her. He couldn’t even hear a word his best friend was saying. Not even when she was right in front of him, looking directly into his eyes. He only started to pay attention when she opened her mouth and started to talk to him.

“Hi! I’m Y/n, I work for the Daily Carat. I’m a journalist there and I was asked to come interview you and the upcoming Indy 500. Are you able to answer questions right now or do you need to get back to practising, I don’t mind coming back another time or scheduling an interview,” you say, trying to be confident with my words. 

“No worries, I’m available to talk now. Is it me you want to interview or Seungcheol,” Minghao asks with a slight smile on his face. 

“Well, both if you don’t mind. I originally came here to interview you, but I don’t mind interviewing The Quickest Lane Switcher either,” I smirk looking over at Seungcheol. 

“Yeah, yeah. Of course you would call me that,” He rolls his eyes, but there’s mischievous glint in them.

“Do you two know each other,” Minghao asks, confusion written over his face. 

“Yeah, just a bit. I’ve run into him a few times,” I reply, “Anyways, let’s get on with the interview. You guys are probably very busy with the race only being next month.”

“Right, so what do you want to know,” Minghao sits on the hood of his car.

You pull out your notepad and look over the questions you had previously prepared beforehand. “Well, I want to know how you feel about being a third time winning racer going for his fourth win. It must be pressuring for you to have to live up to big expectations. Especially with everyone expecting you to win. How do you try to not let the pressure get to you and push forward?”

“Yeah, there is a lot of pressure with people trying to constantly expect me to win for the fourth time. I feel like I’d disappoint them if I didn’t strive to always win because it’s just expected of me. I try to not let it get to me and use it as motivation. I want to be able to surpass everyone’s expectations and go fast each time. I want to surprise people,” Minghao looked away from me, jaw clenched in frustration. Something must be bothering him.

You write down key notes about what Minghao has said and move onto the next question, ‘Seungcheol, what about you? I know you might not be going for your fourth win, but going for a third one is still a big deal. Is there a lot of pressure around it? Especially, since this time you have to go up against your best friend. Are you planning on taking it easy on him,” you let a teasing smirk play on your lips at the last comment.

“Haha very funny, you think you’re very funny because you beat me. Don’t get so cocky, I’ll win next time,” he rolls his eyes with a cocky smirk.

“Yeah yeah, whatever you say. Now answer the questions Choi,” You rest your hands on your hips, fully confident in yourself. Your anxiety has completely left and you feel completely in my element.

“Fine, Lee. I would say there is and there isn’t a lot of pressure. I think I mostly put the pressure on myself because much like Minghao, I want to surpass people’s expectations of me. I don’t want to be seen as only one thing. I want to be able to surprise people with a variety of skills. And no, I’m not going to go easy on Minghao just because he’s my best friend.”

You continue asking them questions and they continue answering them, but every once in a while you couldn’t help but look over at the cars driving by. The way that they would speed past  you was thrilling. You couldn’t help but let a small grin take over your face whenever they would drive past.

Minghao noticed the way her eyes would gleam whenever they drove past them. He was growing even more curious about her. He wanted to know her secret. He wanted to know what she loved about racing and why she loved watching people race. He was also rather curious to know how she knew Seungcheol and what the hell they were talking about. He was so enthralled by her and the way she spoke that he failed to realise that the interview was over and that she was walking away from them now. He couldn’t help but wonder if he would see her ever again as he watched her figure leave the arena. Damn it, he should’ve asked for her number before she left.

Seungcheol whacks him on the back of the head, “Dude, you’re staring, she’s not coming back. Who knew Xu Minghao would be the type of guy who would fall in love at first sight.” 

“I’m not in love with her,” Minghao replies, rubbing the back of his head.

“Oh yeah, definitely not. I’m also not an illegal street racer,” Seungcheol rolls his eyes at the obliviousness of his friend.

“Whatever, I’m just curious about her. I’ve never met anyone quite like her before.  I just…I don’t know how to explain it, but she has the magnetic aura about her that pulls me to her.”

“That’s the first step, then boom next thing you know you’re in love getting married and having kids and-”

“Choi Seungcheol.”

“Sorry man. I was just trying to make a point. But, speaking of Illegal street racing. There’s another race tonight. You should come with me. I’ll even drive you there,” Seungcheol says, hoping to convince Minghao to finally go.

“I don’t know Cheol. You know how I feel about those races. I’ll have to think about it.”

“C’mon man. It’ll be fun, I promise. How about this, if you don’t have fun or enjoy it, I’ll drive you home immediately no questions asked. I will never ask you to attend another race again.”

“Why do you want me to go to this race so bad?”

“Well, I’ll be racing in one of the events tonight plus I think it might surprise you about who else will be there tonight.”

“Who else?”

“Come and you’ll find out. Don’t want to ruin the surprise.”

“Fine. One race and that’s it.”

Evening finally rolled around and Minghao couldn’t believe how many people showed up to an illegal street race. He would think that there were famous people here with the amount of people that showed. Well, not counting himself and Cheol because they were technically celebrities. “Seungcheol, what’s up with all of these people? You would think it would be a bit more discreet…Is there some sort of celebrity coming to the race or something,” Minghao asks, eyes widening  as he sees even more people join the neverending crowd.

“Hush! Don’t call me that here, call me S.coups. People don’t know me as that here, can’t let them know I’m a famous racer, otherwise they would think that I’m cheating, they don’t take that shit lightly either,” Seungcheol, quickly hushes his friend.

“Alright, Alright. Calm down. You didn’t answer my question nor did you tell me that before we arrived here,” Minghao couldn’t help but roll his eyes at Seungcheol’s stupidity. 

“Oh, yeah. Sorry,” He rubs the back of his neck, “Well, somewhat famous people. At least what we consider famous in the illegal street race community. First, there’s DK, but you know him as Seokmin, yes a lot of nascar racers do illegal street racing. Then there’s Woozi, he’s known for his speeding  tricks. He’ll speed up and pass someone just to slow down right when they are behind him. It pisses everyone off when he does it, but it’s a brilliant way to always stay in first. Lastly, the one even more famous than you and I, Zero Light. She always wins because no one seems to be able to beat her. She also happens to be DK’s sister so she grew up behind the wheel, racing is in her blood. It’s my dream to be able to go against her in a one on one and win. Ah, here she comes, that’s her car.” As Seungcheol was talking, a car sped down the street. It was jet black and had white racing stripes.It was the coolest car Minghao has ever seen, but the comment about Seungcheol wanting to win against her made him confused. Because Seungcheol was a literal nascar driver, she can’t possibly be that good, right?

Once everyone noticed the car, they surrounded the car, and started to whoop and holler. Two people got out of the car and because everyone was surrounding them, Minghao couldn’t make out their faces. But he could definitely feel the change in the atmosphere when they showed up. Before everything was chill and people were just vibing, but now people are buzzing with excitement. 

“Hey! Zero Light, over here! I have someone I want you to meet. Bring DK with you,” Seungcheol shouts, waving his arms hoping to get their attention, which it somehow does.

They start weaving their way through the crowd to him and Seungcheol. And Minghao couldn’t believe who was in front of his eyes, “Y/n? What are you doing here?”

Her lips curved up to a smirk and he swears he’s never seen anything more attractive than the confidence he could feel surrounding her, “Ah, Minghao! I see S.coups has finally convinced you to come to one of these. And please, refer to me as Zero Light. Can’t let anyone know my real name in case the cops catch someone from one of these races. We should give you a nickname in case too. Do you have a nickname someone calls you that you like?”

“Uhm…”

“How about The8, for his love of infinite speed,” Seungcheol pipes in, “Also, where’s Woozi? Isn’t he supposed to be racing tonight?”

“I think it’s perfect,” you say, “Yeah, he’s on his way. He said he should be here in a couple of minutes. We won’t start the race without him anyways. What’s a good race when Woozi isn’t there.” 

“I like it,” Minghao replies, a confident smirk on his pretty lips, “Whose Woozi? S.coups mentioned him before, and said he was some sort of illegal street racing celebrity.” 

“Cool. Woozi’s my best friend. Yeah, he’s well known amongst the community here in Seoul, not quite sure if he’s as well known outside of it as we mostly do our races here. Oh, right. This is my brother DK. You probably recognize him, but because of him I’ve been able to see every single race of yours. Gotta say, I’m quite the fan. S.coups also talks quite a bit about you and wanted you to come to one of these. Glad you finally decided to come.”

“Really? Every single one? And you talk about me, they better be good things or I’ll-”

“Haha. Don’t worry, he only says the best things. Well, maybe a few embarrassing stories here and there, but that’s what friends are for. They gotta embarrass you sometimes and you them otherwise, are you true friends?”

“I guess you do make a good point.”

“Oh, Zero Light. I wanted to ask you if we could hold a one vs one tomorrow night. I don’t think there’s any scheduled illegal races for next week,” Seungcheol asks, butting into the conversation.

“You really want to lose that bad, huh?”

“I don’t think I’ll lose. I am a nascar driver after all,” Seungcheol smirks, confidence blooming in his chest.

“Although that may be true, how many times have you lost to me? I mean the same goes for DK here. He’s my brother so he would hate to lose to me at something he does for his career,” you rest your hands on your hip, cocking your head with a mock.

“Yeah, yeah whatever. What do you say? You in?”

“Sure, why not. I could use a break from all the tough competitors,” you smirk as Seungcheol scowls.

“Oh fuck off will you. Anyways, I can’t wait to finally win against you and rub it in.”

“Confident are we? Speaking of racing, where the fuck is Woozi. He said he’d be here soon, we can’t wait all night for him.”

Soon enough another jet black car comes barrelling down the street and instead of white racing stripes, it has a single red stripe down the centre of the car. When everyone notices that car, they start shouting yet again and the already buzzing energy gets even higher as someone new makes their appearance. 

“Ah, Woozi’s here. Perfect timing as always,” you roll your eyes and look over at the car that’s currently parking.

“That’s Woozi? I’m not going to lie..I expected him to be a lot more-”

“Intimidating? Taller? He’s very intimidating when you first meet him, but once he warms up to you, he’ll be someone you never forget,” you say, looking over at the short male with a smile on his face as he greets others while he makes his way towards us. 

“Hey guys! Who's the newbie? I swear I’ve seen you before, are you a model or something,” Woozi asks, looking up at Minghao.

“That’s The8,” you lean closer to Jihoon’s ear, “His name is actually Minghao and he’s a nascar racer. He’s S.coups best friend and has raced against DK before.”

“Ohhhh. Wow, I’ve heard so much about you from Zero-” Woozi starts to say until I elbow him before he says too much.”

“That’s enough out of you. We’ve got a race to start now that your ass has finally arrived,” you roll your eyes.

“Oh, it’s starting now? Good luck Zero Light! You too Woozi and S.coups,” Minghao says, smiling with sincerity. 

“Baby, I don’t need luck,” you wink and leave a flustered Minghao behind as you head back to your car.

“I do, thanks The8,” Woozi says, “Especially if I’m going up against her.”

Minghao couldn’t even respond to Woozi because he was so caught up in his thoughts of her. His heart sped up just like the very cars he was surrounded by. Maybe Seungcheol was right. Maybe he did fall in love at first. “Come on lover boy, quite staring at my sister. You’re not going to want to miss this,” He lets Dk pull him somewhere they can see the race and just ignores the comment he made because again, it might very well  be true.

Engines revved as they waited for the chequered flag to wave. Loud music blasted from all the cars, pumping up both the racers and the viewers. Minghao could hear Villain blasting from her car. He was excited to see how she would race. Since he’s never been to one of these, he’s not quite sure how  they work. But he’s pretty sure you aren’t supposed to wait for everyone to speed off while you wait behind. Except that’s exactly what she did. She stood at the start line for five seconds before she finally sped off. 

You could feel the bass of the song thrum against you as it blasted through the speakers. You waited for about five seconds before you decided that it was long enough for everyone to get a good distance from the start line. You waited so that you could feel the real adrenaline race through your veins as you raced through the streets desperately trying to catch up. But for you, it was nothing.

You zipped through the streets, fast as the speed of sound. You could hear the tires screech against the asphalt every time you took a tight turn left. You drove up next to a jet black car with a red racing stripe and you knew exactly who you just caught up to.. you looked to your left and saw Jihoon flip you off and grinned from ear to ear. You could hear his laughter ring through my ears as you finally drove past him, making me come in first.

Watching her drive the way she did ignited something in Minghao, something he hasn’t felt in a while. He wanted…he craved to know what it felt like to drive the way she does. He wanted to be both the passenger and driver. He wanted to feel the thrill she felt. And he could tell she loved the adrenaline by how excited and how her smile beamed into the night as she celebrated her new victory. 

You climbed out of the car. A grin present on your lips as you bask in the glory of your win. Minghao pulled you into a tight hug, congratulating you on the win. Woozi even came over and joined the crowd  to congratulate you, though he did tease you and tried to say that you cheated. You could still feel the adrenaline pump through your veins. There was nothing more thrilling than racing down the street reaching new speeds. 

The glory and excitement was cut short as soon as you and everyone else heard sirens race through the streets desperate to find you and where everyone was hiding. Everyone quickly scrambled to get out of there before the cops showed up. Everyone was so panicked about getting caught that Seungcheol forgot to grab Minghao. DK and Woozi must've sped off together because they were nowhere to be found in the vicinity. 

Minghao still hadn't registered what was happening even when you pulled up next to him furiously trying to get him into the car. "Hao, fuck. Come on get in the fucking car, we don't have time for you to look like a cute lost puppy!"

"What? What's going on Y/n-" you didn't let him finish his sentence and opened the passenger side and yanked him in the car. You see flashing red and blue light's behind youand siren's blaring, "FUCK!"

You hurriedly shift your car into gear and speed down the street. Cops seemed to catch on that you were one of the racers and started to follow you, "Fuck, fuck. Okay, Hao...We are currently getting chased by cops, so I'm going to need you to duck down, so they don't see you. Can't have you going to jail."

Minghao listen's instantly and ducks down, hiding himself from the view of cops. You grip your steering wheel so tight that your knuckles start to turn white. You keep taking several left and right turns to throw the cops off your track but it doesn't last long enough. 

You quickly turn left into an alley. Fortunately, the cops were far enough back that they didn't seem to notice the sharp turn, so you quickly turned off the car and ducked down to remain hidden. You look over at Minghao to gauge his reaction. To your surprise, he looked like he was having the time of his life. He let out an elated laugh and you couldn’t help but start laughing alongside him.  “I think we’re safe now. I don’t hear the siren’s nor do I see flashing lights. I’ll take you home, where do you live,” you sat up in your seat and pulled out of the alley and drove Minghao home.

You walk up to Minghao and tap him on the shoulder, “Hey. My boss didn’t think we got enough questions yesterday, so I’m back again. Is Cheol not here today? Also, if you aren’t free right now, I can come back another time, schedule a lunch with you if need be.”

“No! No. It’s fine. I have time now. Yeah, Seungcheol is still a bit shaken up from last night, so he wants to take the day off from practising, especially since he has the race against you tonight,”Minghao sits on the hood of his car, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

“Ah, typical Cheol,” you reply playfully, “Anyways, some fans want to know how you got into racing in the first place. I’m not going to lie,  I’m also curious as to how you got into the whole nascar racing scene as well.”

“Well, Seungcheol would be the reason. He’s my best friend and he’s been doing illegal street racing since we were teenagers. I went only once to one of those and it was an amazing experience. I know I said I haven’t gone to one before, that is mostly true. I haven’t been to one since that one because after that I started to do more research about Nascar racing and just fell in love with everything. The way that there is no limit to how fast you can go. What about you?”

“Huh? What do you mean,” you look up from your notepad and give him a quizzical look. 

“What do you love about racing? Why don’t you become a Nascar racer instead of doing illegal ones?”

“Hey, I’m the one supposed to be asking the questions, not you. You can’t take my job like that,” you tease, trying to fight off the embarrassment.

“Awh, please? I won’t ask anymore questions. I’m just curious to know more about you,”Minghao takes his hands out of his pockets and folds them over his chest.

“I was just teasing you,” you sat next to him on the hood of his car. ”Jihoon actually got me into it. That’s Woozi’s real name, don’t tell him I told you,” you point your pen at him and he puts his hands up in surrender, “You would think it was my brother, but it wasn’t. He was a Nascar racer and sure that was cool too, but there were too many rules, plus tell me how many women Nascar drivers you see. But anyways, much like you. Jihoon was an illegal street racer as a teenager too and at first I was terrified of being at one of those races. Then he convinced me to and instead of being on the side lines, I was in the car with him. I got to feel the air whip through the car as we went faster and faster. I was so scared that we were going to  crash any time we took a tight corner. However, it was the most fun I’ve ever had and I just loved the rush of adrenaline.”

“Wow…that’s amazing,” he truly looked like he was in awe of what I told him. you felt extremely touched that he wanted to learn more about you. You also felt your heart pick up the pace.

“I guess..Anyways, are you ready for the Nascar race next month?”

“Yeah, I guess I’m excited,” Minghao lets out a breathy sigh and looks a bit dejected.

“Is everything okay? You can talk to me if something’s bothering you…”

“No, I’m fine! Don’t worry. Are you excited for the race against Seungcheol?”

“I mean, it’s Cheol. How excited can one be? I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” you say when you notice the look he was giving me. “Yeah, I’m excited. I'd be even more excited if I were to know whether or not you would be making an appearance there.”

“Honestly? I love being a Nascar driver and being able to go fast. But when we were speeding away from the cops? What I felt then? That was something entirely different. The thrill and rush of getting caught was so exhilarating. I want to experience it again. Seungcheol didn't ask me to go, so I wouldn’t know where it was being held and-”

“I could take you,” you quickly chime in.

“You want to take me?”

“Yeah! It would be fun to have a passenger, someone that isn’t my brother or Jihoon,” I let out a chuckle, causing Minghao to smile.

“They, hell yeah!”

“Cool! What time should I pick you up?”

“I’ll give you my number and you can text me a time you think would be good.”  

Score! “Cool, I’ll text you then. I’ve got to go, but I’ll see you tonight. Bye Hao!”

“Bye…” 

The ride to the new area, where the race will be held, was a silent one. Not an uncomfortable or suffocating silence, but rather one that you basked in. You felt so comfortable around Minghao and you’ve only known him for two days. It’s crazy to think about how you’ve gotten close over the span of 48 hours, but you guess if you are getting chased and fleeing from the cops, it does that. Not that I’m complaining. It was somewhat a magical night, one that you will commit to memory forever. You wonder if he would do the same. 

You pulled into the lot and everyone crowded around your car once they noticed you had arrived. You told Minghao to stay in the car until you gestured for him to get out. You spotted Seokmin, Jihoon, and Seungcheol walking towards your car, so you waved for Minghao to get out of the car. Everyone gasped in surprise when they saw Minghao get out of the car, you even noticed your friends making confused faces, but you ignored them.

“Hey S.coups. Ready to lose,” you ask, taunting him.

“I don’t think so. Tonight is the night I finally beat you,” Seungcheol smirks.

“You think? Want to put a bet on it?”

“Sure. Loser buys dinner?”

“How about dinner for the entire group, your friends and mine?”

“Deal. But before we start the race, I want to know why you guys arrived together?”

“Yeah, I’m also curious. Last I checked, you only ever brought us two,” Seokmin points to him and Jihoon, “Are you guys a thing?”

“What? No,” both Minghao and you shouted together, causing some onlookers to stare.

“Uhm no. I asked if Minghao was coming and he said that he wanted to but you didn’t invite him so I did. I took your personal cheerleader, jealous?”

“Well, I thought after last night he wouldn’t want to come to one of these things again. Or maybe he didn’t come to see me race, but rather someone else,” Seungcheol looks over at Minghao, hinting at something.

“Who? It’s only  us racing tonight,” you ask obliviously.

Seungcheol rolls his eyes at your response which confuses you more, “No one, no one. Speaking of races, Minghao, are you prepared for the race next month? I still feel like I haven’t gotten enough practise in and I’m doing these illegal street races. I can’t imagine what it would be like for you.”

“I’d rather not talk about it right now. You have a race to lose,” Minghao quips

Seungcheol looks absolutely baffled to the point where you want to take a picture to laugh at in the future, “Wow. I thought you were MY best friend…”

“I am. Also try not to get too angry when I sit with her in her car,” Minghao starts walking backwards towards my car.

“Wait, what? I thought you would’ve wanted to ride with Seungcheol,” you replied.

“And be on the losing team? Nah, plus after the experience from last night, I want to experience that again with you,” Minghao gives your a toothy smile, that just maybe, just maybe makes your heart flutter a little. 

“Suit yourself,” Seungcheol walks past my car to his, not before passing by Minghao whispering something in his ear. 

You could hear music blasting from Seungcheol’s car as he revved the engine. The grip on your steering wheel tightened. You could feel the adrenaline start its course through your veins. You took a deep breath in and let it consume you. You felt a hand on yours, took it off the steering wheel and intertwined it with another. You look over and see Minghao’s hand interlaced with yours. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, you were about to question it, but Minghao squeezed your hand in reassurance. Silently, he was cheering you on. Your heart definitely did flips that time.  The chequered flag waved, but you were too caught up in Minghao to notice, that was until he released his hand from yours and pointed. Oh fuck…you were going to have a hard time explaining this one.

It took everything in Minghao to hold back his laughter. He didn’t want to throw her off her game. But as soon as she noticed she went flying down the road. Instinctively, he grabbed the handle and held onto it for dear life. He could tell that as soon as he did that, that Y/n was trying to hold back her giggles. As the car continues to pick up speed, Minghao starts to let loose a bit. He lets go of the handle and rolls down the window to truly feel air whip through his hair. He takes a deep breath in and truly tries to feel how she’s currently feeling. He pictures himself behind the wheel instead of her. He breathes in every sight, feels every turn, and can taste victory around the corner. Well, he could. That was until Seungcheol came speeding down the street, fast as lightning. Seungcheol quickly took the spot as first place. Minghao looked over at Y/n and noticed the panicked look on her face. This must not happen very often. Minghao did the first thing he could think of that would ground her. He put his hand on her arm, causing her to look over at him. Her eyes widen in surprise as she continues to look forward to the road ahead of her. She took one of her hands off the steering wheel and interlaced it with Minghao’s. He felt his heart speed up as the car began to speed up. They both secretly conveyed their thoughts and feelings to each other without murmuring a word. They could tell just by how someone would squeeze their hand. Minghao was cheering on and motivating her without having to say a word because all she had to do was look over at him and see the emotions in his eyes. 

To celebrate your win with Minghao, the both of you went to a fast food place to grab a bite to eat. “Hey,” you hear in a soft voice and look up from your burger to see Minghao staring at you with a curious gaze.  You blink in confusion. “Yeah? You need something?”

“I was wondering if you knew a place where we could chill out for a bit. I don’t really want to go home yet, you know?”

“Yeah, I do. I’ll take you there after we finish eating. Is that good with you? If not, I can bring our food with us.”

“I don’t mind waiting for you.”

You park the car on the grassy hill away from city life. You stepped out of the car and let the cold breeze fill your lungs as you breathed in the fresh air. Minghao also stepped out of the car and took in the surroundings around him. You could see a soft smile greet his lips., causing you to smile at his contentment. You sit on the hood of your car and put your hands behind your head as you lay down to look at the stars above. You feel the car shift in weight as Minghao lays next to you. You look over and see him already looking at you. You take one of your hands from underneath your head and innerlace them with his. At this point, when your hand isn’t in his, it feels strange. Like a sense of lostness. Your hand feels like it belongs in his. You feel at home when you're with him. you can’t help wondering if he feels the same as you do.

“Why didn’t you want to go home? Is there something bothering you,” your voice is soft and not above a whisper. You continue observing his face as he looks away from you and towards the city in front, oblivious to love blossoming in the air. 

Minghao lets out a deep sigh, “there’s a reason I didn’t really want to talk about the race. I’m not all that happy racing anymore. It’s kind of become a burden to me instead of a fun career. I don’t really feel the same passion and energy that I used to feel. I think it’s because people nowadays only care about winning and will do whatever it takes to win, even if that means cheating.  I’m actually thinking this will be my final season as a Nascar racer.”

You sat up in shock, “What? Really?”

He nods his head, “I haven’t made a final decision yet, but it’s something I’ve been thinking of. My passion for racing is dwindling everytime I go to the race track to practise for my upcoming race.” 

“What if I help you get your passion and love back for racing? I mean these past two days, I’ve seen you smiling and you look so light and free than I’ve seen you in your past races. What if I help you get your love back? You can maybe try illegal street racing and if you don’t want to physically be in the driver's seat, you can sit next to me. I really really want to help you. Maybe even use this as practice for the Indy race instead of actually practising. Get away from the race track and the rules for a bit.” 

 “Yeah…Okay. That sounds like a good idea. Let’s do it,” Minghao warmly smiles towards you and your stomach does somersaults. 

It’s been two weeks since you had that talk with Minghao. You’ve been going to illegal races almost every day, minus a few breaks here and there. But it’s sort of become a tradition that after every illegal race, you would go grab some greasy food and go up on the hill away from the city. Some of those nights were the best nights of your life. You would just sit and talk about anything and everything that came to mind. Those nights were your favourite because you get to listen to him talk about his life.  

Tonight was no different. You guys were chilling on the hood of your car staring at the stars talking about life. “Y/n,” he quietly speaks up.

“Yes Hao?”

“I think I’m ready.”

“Ready for what?”

“I want to race in an illegal street race,” he looks over at you, eyes full of anxiety.

“Are you sure,” you ask and he nods his head, “Well, why don’t we make an announcement at tomorrow night’s race? Hell you can even race it! I’ll let you take my spot for tomorrow night’s race!” 

“Are you sure you don’t want to race one last race?”

“Nah, I’m fine. I mean I can always join you in the car if you are that worried I would get bored,”

“What? I wasn’t worried, I just didn’t want your fans to get mad that you aren’t racing.”

“I could use a break. They’ve seen me win enough times. So, don’t worry about them.”

The evening rolled in faster than you thought it would. You could feel the excitement and adrenaline radiating off of Minghao as he sat next to you on your way to the illegal street race. It was his debut night as an illegal street racer, so to see him not anxious in the least bit surprised you to an extent. He was a nascar racer after all, but you think he would be a little bit nervous about racing in an actual street race where he could potentially go to jail for. But no, you could see the confident smirk and glint in his eyes. 

You arrived at the parking lot where others were currently parked and waiting for you to arrive. The spectator’s and your friends surrounded your car as you parked, whooping and hollering as soon as they saw you exit, but their cheers grew when Minghao stepped out. Minghao walked over to your friend group while you thought now was a good time to announce Minghao’s debut because everyone was all fired up by his arrival. But first you had to get their attention.

“ALL EYES ON ME,” you shout, cupping your hands around your mouth to make your voice louder.

“ALL EYES ON YOU,” everyone shouts in return except there’s a faint voice yelling, “my eyes are always on you.” You could’ve swore it was Minghao saying that but why would he.

“Alright, now that I have everyone’s attention. I have a few announcements about tonight’s race. I know some of you might be a little disappointed with some of the news I’m going to share, but I don’t care,” you playfully tease, hands on your hips and a growing smirk on your lips.

 “The first announcement is that tonight, I am not racing.” You could hear a series of groans come out of people’s mouths. You also noticed Jihoon and Seokmin furrow their eyebrows in confusion, meanwhile Seungcheol is raising an eyebrow towards Minghao, but he chooses to ignore him. “I know, I know. You’re all mad and upset because you took the time out of your night to come and see me. I appreciate it, I really do, but I’m going to be taking a break from racing for a bit, Not for too long, but a small break, like around a week.”

If that didn’t confuse everyone then what you’re about to say is going to definitely elicit surprises and confusion. “Since I’m taking a small break, someone’s going to need to take my place for the race tonight. I want to introduce you to one of my good friends who will be taking my place tonight and for future races. I know you all have been quite curious about him, so why don’t I let him introduce himself? The8, come here please”

Everyone turned to look at the man you pointed to; and the previous disappointment everyone felt vanished, instantly replacing it with excitement. Cheers surrounded Minghao as he made his way towards you. He had a rather shocked face at all the cheers…it was really cute. 

“Hello everyone! I’m The8 and I’m taking Zero Light’s place for the time being. I hope you guys won’t be too upset about your future losses and your upcoming loss tonight,” Minghao says with a cocky smirk, firing up the crowd even more. 

“Alright, alright. That’s enough boasting, why don’t you actually show them what you’re capable of? Because you may be able to talk the talk but it doesn’t mean you’ll walk the walk. How about it ladies and gentlemen? Are you ready for the race to start,” you shout, screams encompass the parking lot, bouncing off the walls echoing through the small neighbourhood. 

Minghao grips the steering wheel, knuckles turning white. He hasn’t felt the rush of adrenaline like this in a really long time. He’s been craving for another taste ever since he lost his love in racing. This. This feeling is what he’s missed for so long. He can’t even say he’s nervous because he’s not. Although he should be with you watching, however, it brings him a sense of comfort knowing that you’ll be watching him race. Watching him win. He let his confidence take the wheel and stepped on the gas as soon as the flag was waved.

Minghao sped down the streets as quickly as he could. Zooming through the streets, weaving through the cars, passing obvious stop signs, and doing his damned best to win. There was no way he was going to let someone show him up. Racing was in his blood after all. It’s what he lived for. It was what drove him to be the person who was. So there was no way he was going to lose.

Minghao had to do a double-take when he saw Jihoon sitting on the hood of his car, waiting for his fellow racers to show up. He didn’t even see Jihoon pass him. How the hell did he get there before him? Minghao storms out of the car, or correction, your car because you oh so graciously let him borrow it, but not without threatening him if he puts a scratch on your precious baby. He marches his way over to Jihoon, “Dude, when did you even get here? I never saw you pass me?”

Jihoon shrugs his shoulders, “maybe you just weren’t looking for me. Slipped right past you, near SVT Street.”

“That far?! Seriously, how did you do it? You have to teach me, but I still can’t believe I lost.”

“Well this is your first street race. You may be a Nascar racer, but you don’t know the streets like we do. We know what streets we can skip, plus we aren’t afraid to play dirty,” you walk up behind Minghao, “don’t be too sad that you lost. It was more than likely you were going to lose against Woozi.” 

“I could teach you a couple of tricks if you would like,” Jihoon suggests.

“Yeah, okay. Who knows, they might help me in Nascar racing too. It wouldn’t hurt to try,” Minghao tries not to pout, but couldn’t help it. He genuinely thought he would win. You walk up to him, and without thinking about it, you press your lips gently to his cheek, hoping that you will slightly cheer him up. When you pull your face away from his cheek, you find him staring at you, an unknown emotion swirling around his eyes. You’ve never noticed how his eyes are a vast ocean that will pull you under. It’s almost as if you could find all the answers to the world hidden inside.You would’ve stared longer, but you quickly moved away from Minghao as soon as you heard Jihoon clear his throat behind you. You spun on your heels and practically sprinted to your car. 

Jihoon looks over at Minghao to question him about what just happened, but he could tell the man was lost in thought, staring at your faded silhouette. Jihoon just shakes his head at the obliviousness between you two. “Dude, are you just going to stare at her longingly and let her keep waiting for you? Or are you going to follow her? Maybe ask her what the fuck just happened,” Jihoon says, mumbling the last part.

“What?” Minghao furrows his eyebrows and lets confusion fill his features. 

“She’s going to leave your sorry ass behind if you don’t hurry up and get it together.”

“Shit,” Minghao sprints after your car, waving his hands hoping to get your attention.

Jihoon sighs, pressing his fingers to the bridge of his nose, “idiots to lovers I tell you. Oblivious idiots.” He rolls his eyes and sticks his hands into his pocket and jumps off the hood of his car to head home.

Jihoon has been training Minghao in the art of street racing, alongside you. He’s definitely changed since you first met him at the track. At first he was so reserved, reluctantly answering your questions, but now he can’t stop talking about himself. In a positive way, of course he always remembers to ask you questions in return. Usually, those questions are asked while the both of you are laying on the hood of your car, your head on his chest, and his arm lazily wrapped around your waist. Those nights were your favourite because it’s become some sort of tradition that the both of you would head there after one of Minghao’s street races, but not before grabbing some greasy food to eat while staring at the far city lights, surrounded by thousands of glittering stars. 

It was hard to believe that a month has passed since you struck up the deal together. You’ve noticed that not only is he not as reserved, but he’s gotten his spark back. You can see it in the way he smiles while his hands are on the steering, shifting gears, and zooming past cars. He’s finally found himself and his love of racing. However, there’s a few problems that you’ve come to realise. 

You realised that you were madly in love with Xu Minghao, especially the Minghao you only got to see. You couldn’t determine whether or not he felt the same, but he had to at least feel something during those nights when he would sing to you, gently kissing your forehead and stroking your cheek while you accidentally fell asleep on the hood of your car.

But the next problem you ran into was a major one. If you were to ever tell Minghao your feelings and he returned them, he would easily forget about you. Afterall, tonight is his final street race before he has the Indy 500 the next day. And once he’s done with the race, he’ll probably go back home, continuing his life as a Nascar racer. Meanwhile, you’ll be left alone in a giant city. 

“Hey Minghao! Are you ready for your final race tonight? Even if it’s up against me,” you smirk, walking up to Seokmin’s car. Seokmin let him borrow it for the night because he wasn’t going to use it, not if you, Jihoon, Seungcheol, and Minghao were all planning on racing. No, he valued his life much more than his car.

“Yeah, hope you’re ready to lose this time,” Minghao returns your smirk.

“Against you? Never. Remember who you’re talking to baby, I am Zero Light, the undefeated,” you lean in closer, breath tickling his ear.

“How about this, if I lose against you, I’ll tell you a secret,” he whispers, bringing his hand up to your face, resting his palm on your cheek, gently grazing it with his thumb.

“And if I lose? What will I have to do,” you ask, leaning into his touch.

“Nothing because that’s how confident I’ll win against you,” he pulls his hand away from your face, grabs your hand, kissing your knuckles. His smirk widens when he looks up and sees the light red hue spread across your face.

“I better get back to my…uh… car….the race will…um… be starting soon,” you back up away from the car accidentally bumping into a stranger, “Oh my god, I am so sorry. I wasn’t watching where I was going.” You keep apologising to the stranger, while Seokmin, Jihoon, and Seungcheol all collectively sigh watching both you and Minghao act stupid in front of each other.

You swung open your car door, stomping your way over to him. You swing his door open and yank him out of the car after he unfastens his seatbelt. You bring him into a bone-crushing hug and hold him tight. Tears well up in your eyes and you slightly pull away from him, “I can’t believe you.”

“Can’t believe what? That I won and that you lost,”  Minghao teases, looking deep into your eye, mapping every detail of your face.

“No. I can’t believe how far you’ve come during this month. I’m going to miss you when you leave to go home,” you wrap your arms around his neck, drawing his face closer to yours so that you can truly stare into his eyes forever.

“It wasn’t without yours and Jihoon’s help, thank you for everything. I’m…” you can see the hesitancy within his eyes. He wants to say something…he needs to tell you…

“Hao? What is it? You can tell me anything,” you take his face into your hands and gently brush your fingers against his cheek, much like you did before, he leans into your touch.

“I’m going to miss you too…I’m going to miss you more than you can imagine,” you can hear the sincerity in his voice and it takes every last bit of self-control in you to not smash your lips onto his, so all you could offer him was a comforting smile.

Minghao was anxious, you could tell even far up in the bleachers. You wanted to be in the pit with him, cheering for him, but you couldn’t. You were only allowed down there when they weren’t busy getting ready for a race, 1 minute left, you noted, and when it was appropriate for journalists and reporters to ask their questions. 

He was pacing back and forth. The anxiety chewed him up inside. He got so used to racing in the street races, that he seemed to forget some of the basic rules. He has to go over them before the race starts. What was it? What was the first rule? Shit…He can’t remember.  

Then his phone rings. He knew it was you. He could tell because he purposely picked out a ringtone for you, so that he always knew it was you calling him. “Y/n?”

“Hao…breathe for me. Just remember you’ve got this,” your voice soothes his growing anxiety.

“But what if I accidentally forget that this isn’t a street race and it’s an official one?”

“You won’t. Do you know how I know,” you see him shake his head from a distance, “Because on the track you are Xu Minghao, not The8. You are just yourself and not some persona you put on for others. Because if you lose, I won’t tell you a secret.”

“A secret?”

“Yeah, if you win…I’ll tell you one of my deepest secrets.”

As if a switch was flipped, in that very moment, you could feel the fiery energy radiate off his aura. Even though he was going up against his best friend and your brother, he had confidence in his ability to race. He knew he would win. He had to win. He’s never felt this desire to win this strong before. Not until you gave him a reason to want to win. When he races, he doesn’t care if he wins or loses, as long as he’s feeling the adrenaline pump through his veins he’s okay with losing. But now? You telling him one of your precious secrets? He has to win.

Lap after lap, it felt like the race was never going to end. You felt anxiety raise each time someone overtook Minghao’s first place, but he always seemed to be able to kick it into gear and steal his spot back. You were at the edge of your seat, hanging by a thread. Sometimes, it looked like Minghao wouldn’t even be able to take his spot back, but then suddenly he would use a move Jihoon taught him and it was like appeared out of thin air and was back in first place.Once the race was truly over, you were over the moon excited that Minghao was able to secure his fourth win. But more anxiety came once you realised you had to tell him your secret. 

“Hao! Congratulations! I’m so proud of you! After you're done taking pictures and celebrating, can we go to our spot?”

“Of course! I can’t wait to celebrate my win with you,” Minghao sends a wink your way.

“Do you remember what I said to you over the phone before the race started,” you ask, voice barely heard over the whisper of the lofi radio. The gentle glow cascades you both in a paint-like-lighting. Your question pulls Minghao out of his thoughts.

“How could I forget? It was my motivator…the reason I wanted to. It was the first time I ever really felt a desire to win that much,” Minghao looks over at you, but you are avoiding all eye contact with him, just staring out at the setting horizon in front of you, “what is it? The secret?”

“I don’t want you to leave and go back home. I want you to stay here with me…with all of us.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m in love with you. I don’t know when it happened, maybe when I was first introduced to you as a racer or maybe it was after I truly got to know you…” you finally gather the courage to look at Minghao, only to find him already staring at you. There that unknown emotion is again. It’s ever so present, swirling and mixing in his eyes.

You take his long silence as rejection and hop off the hood of the car, you can feel the tears well up and slowly slide down your face. You don’t know where you're walking to and frankly you don’t care, you just want to get as far as you can from MInghao. 

You feel gentle fingers grasp your wrist, you turn around to see Minghao crying. Why is he crying? You’re not sure, but you know that you’re crying along with him. “Y/n…you didn’t wait for my answer.”

“You took too long to answer, so I took it as a rejection.”

“Only an idiot would reject you and I am not one. But I am an idiot for not saying something sooner. I wanted to tell you that I loved you last night, but I just couldn’t form the proper words or sentences. I was also going to tell you that I was planning on staying…over the course of the month, Seoul has become my place because you are my home.” Tears start to slide down your face again after his heartfelt confession. He brings a comforting hand and lightly wipes your tear stained cheeks with his fingers…“Beautiful…as always,” slowly his face gets closer to yours. And as you stare into each other's souls, Minghao searches your eyes for any hesitancy and when he doesn't find any; he tilts your chin up, bringing your lips closer to his, finally letting them meld together like two puzzle pieces meant to find each other. 

Taglist for Seventeen: @mhyori1117

Networks: @the-k-neverland @cacaokpop-fics @timenote-library @k-radio

[takeyourcyanide]

I really did not do stilted speech justice earlier, so I’m going to delve a little deeper into it. I end up going off on a tangent regarding TD sort of so the rambling is under the cut

I mentioned my speech often being oddly formal to others. There’s more to it than that. This is due to my own inability to find any other way to express myself, and forgetting even the most basic of words when my brain is clouded and blocked. But I tend to speak unusually (sometimes without realizing it) and cryptically to soothe the static, too. I have to purposely (sometimes unconsciously, it’s second nature at this point) word things in a vague, ambiguous, strange, overly formal way so that people have a harder time deciphering the intent behind what I’m saying, particularly if I’m speaking about something very personal to me. But I also do this when speaking to strangers and just people in general, in order to almost “keep them at bay” if that makes sense. It’s not only naturally how I speak often times, but it’s also dictated by how I feel that the other is going to harm me in some way, or is someone I need to be suspicious of and on guard around. And when on guard, which I always am, my speech, too, remains on guard. Anyone could ask me any question, and as opposed to simply responding, I always ask “why do you ask” instead. Both out of curiosity and paranoia. I understand it sounds awfully stereotypical, like your average “who’s asking” sort of character, but I am that character LMAO. I repeat the same words and phrases within the same paragraph a lot, both on accident and due to that same difficulty in conveying my point, as well as wanting to ensure that I was understood properly. The supposed “tangents” that I can go on at times are relevant to me in some way, though they may not be to others. It’s like I am reminded by certain words or topics of another semi-related one, have to talk about that real quick, forget my original point entirely and have to pause and try to remember it for a good minute or so, and try to finish conveying that point. I’m constantly pausing when speaking, especially in conversations I’ve had less experience in, since it is genuinely just like a foreign language in many ways. I mix words up, sometimes mispronounce them, forget how to spell very basic words I’ve known how to spell my entire life despite the fact that I am usually fairly good at spelling. My speech becomes scrambled and sometimes even quicker and almost uh how do I describe it “excitable and manic” sounding as though I’m spiraling. But that’s because I’m scrambling to speak English properly, knowing there’s a possibility the other party may give up and listening entirely, or think I don’t know what I’m talking about at all. I remember things rather incoherently as well, and have to make sense of them when attempting to convey those aforementioned memories. Sometimes it’s as though I can’t move my mouth and tongue in a way that can produce sound. Sometimes my grammar just goes to absolute shit and I start speaking like a toddler, because I can barely handle even speaking like that. I’ll lose my ability to process thought and language briefly, sometimes unable to even properly gather what others are saying, similarly to if they were speaking a language I had been learning. And I have to break it down quickly in my head. When it comes to alogia, this has been a part of my life for the entirety of it. Often induced by paranoia, but also that inability to speak, but also a lack of desire to speak, but also feeling as though I’m almost “not allowed” to speak, but feeling almost like an empty vessel doll thing and not moving much, etc etc. also I don’t know why. It’s just my natural state. That might not be apparent based off how I’m currently rambling, but if you were to speak to me off of here, there’s a good chance I would not say much depending upon the day week month year idek. Not even depending at times. Just in general. Sometimes it’s as though I lose my vocabulary. It’s odd and frustrating. It affects my ability to write, though I still try to push through it for a variety of reasons. I often wonder if my writing even makes sense because of this, but it seems to make enough sense I suppose for other people.

[acourtofthought]

“The Phoenix is a mythical Greek bird often referred to as a Firebird”

“Firebird (Classification) Firebirds, also called Phoenixes, come in many shapes and sizes, and can be found around the world.”

We can all copy and paste from online websites to prove a point.

As for the rest of your rant, I have no idea what you’re taking about. I left you one comment highlighting all the Lucien and Vassa hints, as I was interested in your POV, but your reply to me was irate and kinda rude (so I wrote a lengthy rebuttal in response - purely out of the merit of debating). I didn’t call you a high schooler, I have no idea where you got that from ?

And sure, this is your blog. But your blog doesn’t exist in a vacuum - you are posting your opinions on an online, public platform using hashtags, meaning that it will be seen by other tumblr users. I found your blog because of your anti-Vassien posts, stuff like this; “He and Jesminda were an inferno while Vassa would feel like a lukewarm bath in comparison.” (As if we even know anything about Jesminda?).

It seems like you post a lot of antagonistic stuff yourself (literally the top photo is mocking elriel shippers with a juvenile buzz light year gif, saying there’s “no sign of intelligent life” lmao). A quick scroll shows that you’re not afraid to enter the spaces of other ships and reply to their stuff, telling them how they’re wrong (despite you saying in your recent reply to me, that you don’t see the point in debating with people who have opposing ships to you ???)

And tbh the fact that you’re confusing me with someone else who is calling you a highschooler, or whatever else - speaks to this. If your blog was purely pro-elucien content, and people came into your asks just to shit on elucien - that makes them the assholes. But if you’re posting stuff publicly that shits on other people’s ships (as you do), as much as it’s your right to do so, you can surely expect people to take issue with what you’re saying, and debate you on it. Which again, is literally what you do to other people.

I’m not “angry” at your blog - you’re just getting back the same energy that you put out.

You can copy and paste all you'd like from the internet however, Vassa is not a phoenix so in this case your selection isn't valid.

Firebirds belong to Russian / Slavic folklore while Phoenix belongs to many cultures. To proclaim they are one in the same means you're trying to lump all cultures into one.

You're searching for any possible way to try and tie your Lucien / Vassa theory belonging in Day together while ignoring what we know of her curse.

The fairytale revolves around Koschei and the FIREBIRD. Which is not ever noted as Koschei and the Phoenix.

She was cursed and wants to break the spell. What about what she's going through makes you believe she wants to continue turning into a bird and requires the sunshine of Day to do so?

Energy I'm putting out there? You mean the energy I share with my followers under the Elucien, Anti E/riel tags? The energy where I'm not seeking out E/riel or Vassien fans and starting arguments with them? You saw my posts in the Anti Vassien tag yet you thought it would be a great idea to start an argument? Because you're triggered by my stance? Are you saying I'm not allowed to think "Lucien and Vassa would have lukewarm chemistry?"

As far as the intelligent life post, did you happen to note who it was aimed at? Was it everyone who shipped E/riel or was it at Anti Lucien's who eviscerate him because he had never even met Elain but wanted to meet her once to know if he should try to fight for her while she was in love and engaged to someone else? Then those same people turn around and ridicule Elucien's for shipping them. So yeah again, people that throw the first insults are going to find that their targets fight back.

You and I are not the same because again, I am sharing my content under the correct tag letting people know which side I fall on and am not baiting people or entering their blogs to start things. My mutuals and I deserve to address the bullying and flat out twisting of facts that occur in this fandom in a space that was created using proper tags.

YOU are the one actively searching out accounts that you don't agree with and hiding your identity while trying to start something. And it's interesting you claim you're not the Anon from earlier yet I have never received Vassien shipper anons back to back on the same day. In fact it's rare that I have any Vassien shippers message me 🤔

[infinitelytheheartexpands]

since i am at home and have access to my yearbooks, it is now time for the roundup of “some of my favorite quotes from people’s yearbook signatures”, a non-exhaustive list:

2010-11 (3rd grade):

-“have a great summer savvanah”—kid in my class who spelled my name wrong lmao

2011-12 (4th grade):

-“your the most legendary person i have ever met”—one of my besties to this day

2012-13 (5th grade):

-“when the world looks down on you, give them 5 and a half reasons to look up at you. you are brilliant. you are a good person. never lose that. never stop dominating.” —one of the then-high school juniors for some reason (i got signatures and messages from SEVERAL juniors and seniors that year for some reason lmao)

-“too bad”—a kid in my class

*could not find 2013-14 :(*

2014-15 (7th grade):

-“stay cool and rock on with those dance moves and work on skating”—another kid who was in our production of xanadu, where i successfully campaigned with the director to not make everyone rollerskate because some of us (myself included) could not rollerskate

-“the cat whiskers come from within”—a girl in the grade below me with whom i am still buddies

-“you are the smartest person i know and don’t let anyone take that away from you”—my now IRL best friend, the first year after he moved to our school, and this was even though at the time we were in the middle of an INTENSE academic rivalry that put a damper on our friendship for a while

2015-16 (8th grade):

-every single kid who wrote HAGS!!! (have a great summer) because it’s funny <3

-“you have been happy when i have been sad so uh…thanks for always cheering me up with just a smile”—a kid in the grade below me

-“savannah, it is really fun having you in the class and i hope we got the party started for you every english class!”—the same kid who spelled my name wrong in 3rd grade; every day at the start of english class i’d say “let’s get this party started!”

2016-17 (9th grade):

-“…you’ll have to come check in and draw me more memes!”—my 9th grade history teacher, context being that she pitted all the kids in my grade against each other in a year-long history meme war and i, being a dumbass, did not know how to make memes online using generators and shit, so i HAND DREW all of my memes on her board and she would take pictures for my entries (for the record: i did not win)

-“this is a good yearbook. you are a good person. have a good summer.”—one of my guy friends in my class

-“we’re gonna need you in quiz bowl. also how is this handwriting.”—another guy in my class; the reference to the handwriting was because we had to proofread each other’s handwritten essay drafts in english class and i straight up could not read like half of his and he got PISSED as a result

2017-18 (10th grade):

-“dear savannah, have a great summer! read lots of books and eat lots of food because those things make you happy and happiness is great.”—one of my friends in my class, also that is sound advice

-“*sine graph* there, i sined it.”—my precalculus teacher

-“i am ‘cosining’ it.”—the same kid who wrote the handwriting comment the previous year; written directly under the previous signature

-“savannah, mashed potatoes…”—the bestie who wrote the “legendary” comment in 4th grade; the whole message was much longer but we had an inside joke going about how i’m super-picky about my mashed potatoes lol

2018-19 (11th grade):

-“you are just the sweetest little ol’ thang”—one of my friends in my class

-“thanks for making this a great year. you’ve always been so nice to me. never forget that no matter what, you have a good heart, don’t forget that!”—one of the seniors that year; we were in all the musicals and choir together for a few years

-“stay frosty! your joy for life is special, don’t ever let anyone diminish it. change the world.”—a beloved history teacher who moved away after that school year

*no signatures for 2019-20 because COVID :(*

[marleysfinest]

Okay SO Geto’s virginity

Honestly? Swiping his v-card was a lackluster affair. She was a classmate of his, they were doing a project together. He wasn’t really in to her and she wasn’t really in to him but they both wanted to experience this thing called sex and so they did. Everybody got theirs and they went about their business afterwards. Unremarkable to say the least

And from that point on he just never really pursued it? Yeah he knows people have mind blowing sex or whatever but he’s got other things on his mind. It’s just not a priority

So he was basically a virgin again by the time you came in to his life and refused to leave. Geto is certainly not the type to fuck on the first date, but he could tell you were expecting something more by the time the sixth date came around. And by this point he wants nothing more than to make you happy, so he invites you up to his apartment at the end of the evening

Again, it’s not that he dislikes sex or pleasure. It’s just not something he thought about much. But he’ll give you anything you want and sex does feel good so whatever. Win win!

What he didn’t expect is how enthusiastic you’d be. You had discussed your experience, it had been awhile for you but even longer for him. (He didn’t say how long, his years to your months)

In that first night together you showed him how it feels to be desired. What it feels like to get fucked like you’re wanted. He almost died of shame when he busted in your hand in under 30 seconds but you just cooed in his ear and told him that you weren’t anywhere close to done with him yet.

And god when he heard you crying and pleading for him to “Let me cum, please please I’m so close” it took everything he had to get you those two more strokes you needed before he came again because it all finally clicked.

Sex is, in fact, really fucking good (and better yet when there’s an emotional connection) and he’d rather die than have a dry spell like that again

and that’s the story of how geto suguru lost his virginity twice lmao

sorry this is an entire fucking book my lord also my horny button appears to be broken so i made it a little romantic whoops sorry love u marley bye

LEIGH?????? LEIGH????!!!!!

no but ur so right tho I def think he doesn’t see sex as this big deal???? which ok in the grand scheme of things maybe it isn’t but his first time is def a “we might as well” underwhelming experience and then kind of writes it off as “idk what the fuss is all about” UNTIL!!!!!!!!!! that emotional connection hits and his mind is BLOWN his life is CHANGED oh man I’m gonna be thinking abt him all night

[riverstardis]

step right up:

here we go😬

“there he is! dr quickdraw! firing off resignations like there’s no tomorrow” “it is heartwarming to know that my career’s such a joke to you” “don’t sulk nibbles i’m just glad you chose us over that trip down under” “really?” “now i can throw you the best welcome back night out ever! i’m talking shots, strippers, dancing on tables til your feet bleed” “ooh yes you know me so well”/s sjskkfkfkg i miss themmm also it’s funny to think that cal didn’t even know he was leaving and would’ve only found after he’d decided to stay because he wasn’t on shift in the previous ep

ethan’s new mantra “find good in every scenario. positive internal mind projection” yeahh that ain’t even gonna last into next episode i’m afraid bestie😭 cal’s like “you do realise that spells pimp?” he obviously didn’t sjskf “your new lifestyle choice is the way of the pimp! finally a profession to be proud of!” “shut up”

lmaoo big mac puts a photo of dixie up in the ambulance station and says to iain something about him missing that cheeky grin already and iain’s like “you’re joking aren’t ya? that’s not a grin, she’s gloating. we’d all love to shoot up the cornish coast, mac, christening every b&b with our new sexy lesbian lover. but alas, some of us have got responsibilities” 😭😭😭😭

charlie points out to cal that emilie’s there

sjsjjff dylan says to ethan “so i hear the big australian adventure is off, is it? i thought all people of your age wanted to travel to hot countries and bungee off canyons?” and he says “err no stomach for heights so not on the bucket list” they’re making sure to let us know he’s scared of heights ready for him facing that fear later in the episode

i wonder if he’s going to go to australia when he leaves next year then? though i’m sure his fellow passengers on that long ass flight will love him for travelling with a 2 year old💀

lmaoooo robyn “ethan, i just wanted to say i’m really pleased that you’re staying, especially after dixie left us for that hottie” “er, well, not much chance of that happening with me” “all you gotta do is ask!” SKDKFKFKF he just raises he eyebrows and robyn carries on “anyway, i bought us some celebratory doughnuts, and i saved you a jam one especially” “oh thank you, i’m actually allergic to the preservatives in those. it’s like hive city” 💀

emilie flirting with charlie sjskfkfk

“well that’s all i am really, local eye candy” gross😭

lol of course ethan ends up treating emilie, even after cal was looking for another doctor but specifically not ethan

but when cal comes in he tells him that lily needs his help and he’ll take over with emilie

“people usually think she’s just kicking off and i tell them that she’s autistic and i can see their brains thinking dustin hoffman, gambling genius. well i took her to vegas and she didn’t win us a penny so, total waste of a holiday” thank god she’s not an Autism Mom(tm) and has a sense of humour that isn’t about how much of a burden her daughter is

aww the autistic girl sash asks if she can wear ethan’s glasses and he’s like “of course, just don’t ask me to do any surgery without them” skdkdkkf

lmaooo rita’s like “i thought you said she wasn’t good with strangers?” and the mum’s like “oh no i taught her to only acknowledge the cute ones”

emilie calling cal son😬

lmao lily’s over-explaining the ct scanner to sash while she’s distressed and ethan asks her if all this is really necessary and she says that studies show people with autism respond best to descriptive imagery and like to know plans in advance and he’s like “yeah sure but they also say that everybody on the spectrum is different and i think you might be scaring her” and lily nods like yup sjskdkkf okay lily bestie don’t tell me you didn’t read those studies and relate an unusual amount hm?

aww sjskfj emilie notes that cal’s still so protective of ethan and starts telling a story “on holiday, seaside caravan. you were 4, michael- ethan just turned two. both ran off, hunting for crabs” before cal interrupts her

i really want to hear the rest of the story😭 i also wanna know why they went to a seaside caravan in the christmas holidays💀 (cal would’ve been in reception so it was probably in a school holiday, and with cal’s birthday being in february it could possibly have been half term except ethan just turned 2 so it must’ve been christmas)

another thing that interests me about this is that presumably if she was taking them on holiday it was before she started to struggle to look after them which means that it must’ve been some time after this that they were taken into care so cal must’ve been at least 5

cal offers to take ethan out for lunch instead of the wild night out and ethan says he’s far too busy but he does appreciate the gesture “uncharacteristically thoughtful as it is, it’s sort of rather touching so thank you” don’t be too touched bestie he’s just trying to get you off site so you don’t find out who emilie really is😭😭

“just because i wasn’t fit enough to be your mum, doesn’t mean i never wanted to be” :((((

okay but how did sash get from the hospital back to the fair so quick though??? and on her own???

poor emilie :(

actually that reminds me i was looking for a fic that i read ages ago and i was gonna make a post asking if anyone knew it but since i’m thinking about it i might as well ask here first before making a separate post. it was the lead up to them being taken away told in the form of letters to and from emilie. i don’t remember where i read it but i’ve checked my ao3 bookmarks and my ffnet favourites so it might’ve been on here, it is considerably more difficult to find fics on here after all

now how did she even get up there???

go ethan!!

“heights. why does it have to be heights?” sjdkfkfkkf

the obvious green screen😭

welp there go his glasses

this is so unnecessarily dramatic skskdkfkf

i swear his glasses just broke but now they’re intact?? maybe they’re a spare pair

oh yeah lmao sash points out his glasses are wonky and he says they’re his spares

lmaoo noel’s like “i didn’t think you had it in you buddy” to ethan and he’s like “positive internal mind projection” and noel goes “…pimp?” 😭😭

oop when i said ethan and jack never interact again apparently i lied

“the dynamic duo: mac-man and heartthrobin!” heartthrobin😭 there’s a hardy joke in there somewhere too😭😭

aww ethan thanking lily for convincing him to stay🥺

“it struck me today with sash, we make the perfect team” “yeah?” “you deal with the face to face interactions, allowing me to cut straight to the medicine, avoiding all unnecessary distractions” “by that do you mean people?” “precisely. go team!” SJDKFKJF I MISS THEM SO MUCH😭😭 also relatable

“huntingtons, it’s been known to affect mental health. sometimes years before symptoms show. when you felt you couldn’t care for us, the depression, it wasn’t neglect, it may have been your condition” :(

“emilie isn’t just a patient, she’s our mum” YOU MIGHT WANNA EXPLAIN A BIT MORE THAN THAT BESTIE😭😭 okay i know they probably just wanted a dramatic bit for the end of the episode and he presumably explains fully afterwards but still😭

edit: i just read this and crystal yu talking about lily and ethan’s friendship is just🥺 but she also confirms that the actress who played sash is autistic herself and this was her first tv role!

[godcantstopme]

nobody asked but im gonna let you guys in on a little thing i recently learned that blew my mind:

every single thing thats existence isnt based in the physical world is completely imaginary. corporations? gender? the united states of america? every single one of those things is based upon human mythology and none of them are real outside of our own collective imagination!!!

another fun fact for you before i get back to that last one: these social constructs are at the core of what makes us so different from other animals!

see, the reason that homo sapiens are so complex when compared to other animals is that we have the unique ability to make wild shit up. no other species can create myths or tell stories like we do. other animals can lie and communicate, sure, but they cannot converse about anything that's not based in physical reality. a monkey is able to lie and say that there's a lion around so that it can steal another monkey's food, but is simply unable to tell the other monkey that there's a fruit spirit who will to strike it down if it doesn't share the food. this is because animals aren't able to conceptualize things outside of their physical world. all aspects of their social structure and behavior are based upon their genetic makeup, and these things can only change when their dna does.

humans, on the other hand, have creative abilities that are simply nonexistent in any other species. we can create entire stories about things that have no physical existence. an obvious example of this is any kind of cultural mythology such as the stories of nature spirits, divine entities, or various ideas of an afterlife. but the thing is that all kinds of non-religious entities, such as corporations or countries, are just as mythological.

this post ended up being longer than expected so i put a 'read more' option in lmao- but this is a really cool concept so id encourage you to read through the whole thing!! (there's also a tldr at the end of the post under the cut fyi)

the company Target is a great example of this. you may want to stop me right there and tell me that target obviously isnt a myth of any kind. you can find its stores all over the world, and talk to millions of people who interact with it every day. but let me ask you this: if every target location worldwide was burned down, would the company still exist? of course it would. they would simply build new stores and continue on as usual. similarly, if the hundreds of thousands of people who work for target all vanished off the face of the earth, the company would still exist. the death of the ceo would not equate to the death of the company- the ownership would simply be passed on to someone else, and target would remain in existence. no matter how many of the physical components of target are destroyed, it continues to exist. this is because its existence of corporations isnt dependent on anything physical. they are simply products of complex legal storytelling. every single company's existence began when a lawyer performed all the required rituals, did the necessary spells, and declared it to be real. once this ceremony is complete, every single legal system, politician, and person acts as if something tangible has been changed and that this entity truly exists. and for all intents and purposes, it does. it can only cease to exist if a judge should perform all of the rites and rituals that are required to banish it from existence.

now, how the hell do we differentiate things that "really" exist from things that are just a product of our collective imagination?? you really just have to ask one question- would it still exist if people stopped believing in it?

you see, the legal system only exists as long as a significant amount of people believe in it, along with other myths such as the power of the government, justice, and human rights. without those beliefs, it would crumble. the country of the United States of America exists because people worldwide believe that it does and act accordingly, but gravity and genetics existed long before we were ever consciously aware of them. gravity didn't suddenly pop into existence when Newton's theory of gravity was published in 1687. this is why anything that depends on human belief in order to exist is, essentially, fictional.

but just because these things are a figment of our imagination doesn't mean that they dont matter. human myths are what work together to form our society, whether positively or negatively. myths such as human rights, the legal authority of elected officials, and the importance of empathy are what nearly everything around us is based off of. they are are infinitely important and absolutely exist, just not outside of the human mind.

had we never developed the ability to create myths, we would've remained as other human species did for millions of years and how all other animal species continue to exist today- living in small groups with our worlds consisting only of our physical reality. our ability to create stories and, consequentially, to bond/establish trust with humans outside of our known "tribes" has allowed us to also create mass systems and rules that dictate behavior. this is precisely what makes us so unique. creation and imagination are at the core of humanity.

(plus, when you think about it, the fact that we were able to make up such complex and incredible stuff is really fucking cool)

tldr: if something wouldn't exist without a significant amount of people believing in it, then its a social construct. our ability to create these social constructs through imagination and storytelling is what has enabled us to live so differently from other animals, and this creativity is at the core of everything that makes us so uniquely human!!

note: the majority of the information, concepts, and ideas within this post originate from pages 25-39 of Sapiens: A Brief History of Humankind by Yuval Noah Harari, which discusses the anthropological history of humans. i just wanted to share it because it's so fascinating to me and it altered my entire understanding of reality!!

[realcube]

msby boys finding out their s/o is pregnant

navi | masterlist | taglist  

thank you to anon for this wholesome request 

content warning ♡ pregnant! reader, sexual references, swearing & fluff

characters ♡ sakusa, atsumu, bokuto & hinata

kiyoomi sakusa 

♡ he faltered

♡ there was half a minute of silence between the two of you; him just staring at your stomach while you gazed into his eyes

♡ he was almost certain that he misheard you, so he felt inclined to inquire, ‘huh?’ as indifferently as he could, though he wasn’t doing a good job of concealing the shocked expression on his face 

♡ ‘i said i’m pregnant, sweetie.’ you giggled, admiring the emotions he displayed on his face as it wasn’t a sight you got to see often

♡ sakusa continued to stare at you, eyes wide 

♡ though he knew what you meant, apart of him insisted that he was mishearing you 

♡ his wide-eyes were fixated on you, his lips slightly agape as he tried to process what you just said and what this meant for the both of you 

♡ the only emotion you could read of his face was shock. at first, you were sure that he was happy but he was just taking a while to accept it, but now that a few minutes had passed and he was still yet to say anything or even smile, you were starting to second guess yourself

♡ despite the fact sakusa had already agreed that he was on board with the idea of having a child many times before - in fact, there were nights where he’d admit that he can’t wait to start a family with you - but you still worried that perhaps he has now that had a change of heart

♡ that was until you noticed his eyes become unusually glossy and red, along with his cheeks adapting a somewhat red tint, ‘if this is a joke, (y/n), it’s not funny.’ his ordinary, monotone voice was now slightly shaky and low 

♡ ‘it’s not a joke, ‘iyoomi.’ you laughed, feeling your own throat go dry and your cheek flare up upon seeing how emotional sakusa had become

♡ before the tears spilled from your eyes, you felt sakusa’s arms slowly snake around your waist, place an elongated kiss on your forehead then rest his chin on your shoulder 

♡ he held you close enough that you could feel his rapid heartbeat thud against your chest and his wobbly breath tickle the back of your neck

♡ he stayed like that, silent, for a good few minutes 

♡ when he finally pulled away to admire your stomach, you noticed how his damp cheeks glistened in the light and you couldn’t help but smile

♡ although he wasn’t very vocal about how happy he was, his actions spoke a thousand words

♡ he’d insist in home-cooking all your food now because he didn’t want to risk you getting food poisoning 

♡ when he’d come home from practise, absolutely exhausted, the first thing he’d do when he gets home is  wash his hands then cut you some fruit 

♡ when he has free-time, he used to just watch TV but now he’s picked up a few hobbies of reading childcare books, tending to your every need/want and researching good baby names

♡ also, he’s so gentle with you - like, he was gentle with you before but this is a new extreme

♡ excluding the time he almost tackled you to the ground when you suggested atsumu as a baby name

♡ like he baby-proofs the house like a month into your pregnancy lmao 

kōtarō bokuto

♡ the corners of his lips slowly curl into a bright smile, ‘pregnant?’

♡ you cocked your head to the side slightly, then hummed, ‘yeah. pregnant.’

♡ ‘like..with a kid?’

♡ you snorted, playfully rolling your eyes, ‘i’d hope so.’

♡ ‘like..with my kid?’

♡ ‘our kid - but yes.’

♡ a while passed and he had yet to do anything besides stare at you in pure adoration so you prompted him by opening your arms 

♡ to which he immediately responded by throwing himself onto you, ‘I’m gonna be a dad?! like seriously?!’

♡ luckily you were sitting on your bed so you fell back onto that but you were still being smothered by his chest 

♡ ‘bo!’ you squealed and squirmed under his weight and tight grip, glad that he was as cheery as you had hoped but not appreciating being suffocated 

♡ he suddenly pulled away but kept his large hands glued to your shoulders, revealing the tears that were already streaming down his cheeks and dampened your shirt, ‘really?!’

♡ ‘yes, bokuto. i am 100% pregnant.’ you declared for the final time before bokuto cupped your face with his hands and pulled you in to a passionate kiss, not stopping until your lips were basically swollen

♡ he’s just so hyped during the first few days of your pregnancy and he’s just super duper ready to become a dad!

♡ like he’s already practising his dad jokes 

♡ but then you remind him that he’s gonna have to wait around 9 months before he can actually see his baby and his hair literally deflates 

♡ ugh how rude of you 

♡ can you not like...make it grow faster?? please??

♡ once you explain to him that’s not how babies work, he kinda accepts it and just focuses his attention on you

♡ he kinda does some research on babies/pregnancy but not prior, he just does a quick google search when he needs to 

♡ but the intention is definitely there bc he googles the most trivial of things like ‘what to make pregnegant ppl for breakfast?’

♡ ‘what do pragnant ppl need from the supermarket?’

♡ ‘can my pregenunt wife have peanut butter?’

♡ ‘how to spell preaignant’ 

atsumu miya 

♡ DEEP denial

♡ he thinks you are playing a prank on him bc you don’t ‘look pregnant’

♡ even when you show him your positive pregnancy test he’s like ‘and how much did that cost?’

♡ he deadass acts as if he wasn’t the one who’s been trying to get you pregnant and raving on about how much he wants a family with you for the last few months 

♡ but he just doesn’t want to believe you bc he know he’ll get way too happy for his own good and he’s afraid to be let down

♡ plus, it was one of those ‘a blessing of this magnitude couldn’t have happened to me - of all people - so this is probably either a cruel joke or a hallucination.’ moments 

♡ he’s just so far gone that after your eleventh attempt at trying to convince him that you’re pregnant for real, you just give up

♡ so y’all just go around your business somewhat normally - except atsumu was more skittery - until your baby bump started to become more prominent

♡ one day, he came back from practise, noticed your bump and pulled you into the most passionate, heartfelt kiss before placing a gentle kiss upon your stomach, a buoyant grin gracing his features

♡ though he doesn’t say much since he is at a loss for words, he mutters a few sweet nothings into your ear as he carries you to the bedroom

♡ for a joke, he pretends to be gutted if you’re libido production decrease but really, he couldn’t care less

♡ but if it increases tho- 

♡ expect him to take full advantage of that 

♡ also, if he didn’t already treat you like his goddess, he does now 

♡ work has moved down his list of priorities and you + his baby are now at number one 

♡ usually he keeps his phone on silent/stuffs it into his bag while he is practising but now he insists on keeping it on full volume, out on the bench, just in case you call him for an emergency 

♡ same goes for texts; he will literally stop mid-set to rush over to his phone if he hears it vibrate 

♡ bokuto thinks it’s sweet but the rest of them get pretty annoyed of his antics quite quickly but whenever they try to call him out on it, he’s like ‘is your wife 6 months pregnant? no! i didn’t think so. i should be on paternity leave right now so be glad i’m blessing you with my presence.’

shōyō hinata

♡ he cannot stop thanking you

♡ as if you’re doing him a favour, which - depending on how you view it - you are

♡ he’s literally on his knees with his hands clasped together, tears of joy streaming down his face as he looks up at you in pure adoration, ‘thank you, (y/n)!’

♡ you tilted your head to the side and stared at him with a perplexed expression, ‘you’re welcome?’

♡ it’s a while before he moves from that position but when he does, it’s only so he can press his ear against your stomach to see if he can hear the baby 

♡ ‘shō, i don’t think it’s body has even formed ye--’

♡ ‘shh! it’s speaking to me.’ he chuckled then proceeded to squeeze his eyes shut, intensely listening to whatever the baby had to say 

♡ you quirked a brow, waiting for him to finish and once he did, he sprung to his feet and threw his arms over your shoulders to pull you in for a hug - in which he had to stop himself from squeezing you too tightly in fear of hurting you, as if pregnancy meant that your bones were now made of glass

♡ he’s just so happy that you agreed to bear his children 🙏

♡ also, seeing how excited you were to tell him about your pregnancy really prompted him to step up his husband-game 

♡ from now on, he loads the dishwasher, does both of your laundry, cleans the house on his own and cooks most of the food 

♡ he acts as if being pregnant means you are no longer able to do basic tasks but his real motive behind doing these things was not only to take the pressure off of you but to also prepare himself for father life 👍

♡ also, to prepare him for shopping for his kids’ clothes, he goes out and buys you maternity wear 

♡ he does this like...3 weeks into your pregnancy though so the clothes just sit and catch dust until a few months later when you actually need them 

♡ and although he is a bit of a pain to go stroller/pram shopping with (he just says buy whichever one goes the fastest), you let him take the reins when it came to buying/preparing the baby’s room and it came out beautiful!

♡ like the cradle was good quality and firm, the rug wouldn’t irritate the baby’s skin, the walls were painted expertly and the plushies/toys he picked out - unbeknownst to you at the time - kept the baby entertained for ages

♡ oh and no matter what day/week/month you are in of pregnancy, he will always look at you and your bump with the same amazement and gratitude as he did the first time you told him

[mypoisonedvine]

Seeing Red | bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x actress!reader (part 6)

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5)

series summary:  bucky used to brag that he didn’t have a celebrity crush, or really care about famous people at all, which is what made him the perfect person to start working for a celebrity like yourself.  except, of course, it’s just his luck that he’d fall for you.  

word count: 5.1k

warnings: smut (in the form of road head lmao) plus some more implied smut and teasing and stuff, use of 'y/n' which is perfectly fine but it still makes me anxious cause I've never done it before, other than that just fluff and celebrity/PR stuff

You tilted your head slightly as you watched Bucky emerge from the pool, slicking his wet hair back out of his face, body dripping with cool droplets that sparkled in the afternoon sunlight.

Yeah, you were never going to get tired of this view.

“See somethin’ you like?” he grinned as he grabbed a towel and rubbed it over his hair before lowering it to dab off his shoulders and torso, his dog tags jingling lightly when he bumped against them.

“Yeah, why don’t you come over here and put that body on me?” you purred. He chuckled and stepped closer, tossing the damp towel aside before leaning down to climb onto your pool chair and hover above you; the dog tags hung low and tickled your stomach, making you giggle a little.

“I don’t know that I should, I actually have a girlfriend…” he explained, feigning hesitance as you sat up slightly to nibble at his jaw.

“You know, a lot of couples have a ‘celebrity pass,’ and I just so happen to be a celebrity… do you two have one of those?”

“Maybe we do,” he replied nonchalantly, raising an eyebrow.

“Who’s yours?”

“This really hot girl I saw once, in this really crappy movie,” he winked.

“Hey!” you laughed, shoving him back. “Which one of my movies is crappy?”

“What makes you think you’re the hot girl I’m talking about?” he countered.

“Oh, you’re really trying to get yourself in trouble.”

“Just to be clear— we’re not going to have any celebrity passes, right?" he frowned. "Because you know a lot of famous people and I don’t like those odds.”

You scoffed. “Definitely not.”

“Good. I can only handle one famous woman at a time anyways,” he chuckled.

//

He, meanwhile, would never get tired of waking up beside you, holding you before you were even really aware of anything yet, feeling you stir in his arms and snuggle up close to his chest.

“Bucky…” you mumbled sleepily into his shoulder.

“Yeah?” he whispered, smiling a little as your eyes fluttered but didn’t really open.

You just hummed and shifted again, looking so peaceful that he couldn’t help but kiss your forehead. “Mornin’, beautiful,” he purred.

And there was the best part of every morning: when you opened your eyes and looked up at him for the first time, and you smiled— actually smiled at the sight of him. He couldn’t remember the last time somebody was this happy to see him. He couldn’t imagine what he’d ever done to deserve it.

“Hi,” you greeted coyly.

“Hey there,” he grinned back. His eyebrow raised when he felt your foot delicately trail up the back of his leg, your hips beginning to straddle his. “Got somethin’ on your mind, pretty girl?”

“Maaaaybe…”

He chuckled, always impressed (in the best possible way) by your insatiability. “Already?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, “had a dream about you.”

“Care to enlighten me?” he prodded, rubbing your back with his metal hand.

“You had me bent over the bed…” you began, voice a bit lower than normal.

“Good start.”

“In my trailer," you finished.

“Oh, you’re filming in this dream?”

“Well, we weren’t filming right then," you grinned, and Bucky clenched his jaw just imagining the idea of filming you while he fucked you. Much too risky when celebrity sex tapes always seem to end up leaking, but a fun thought nonetheless. "But you made me promise to keep quiet in case somebody heard us. Said you didn’t want anybody else to know how I sound when I come.”

He smirked. “Seems like something I would say.”

“But really I liked the idea of everybody overhearing and knowing how good you make me feel… I want them all to know I’m yours.”

“Sounds like a nice dream,” he smirked, shivering slightly when you leaned in to start kissing his neck and jaw.

“Feel like making my dreams come true, stud?” you purred.

“Yes,” he admitted tensely, “but we don’t have time. You have a meeting at 9, remember?”

“No no no, we have time,” you assured. “We both know how fast you can make me come.”

“No point in doing something if you’re not gonna do it right,” he frowned, “and I don’t have time to do it right.”

“You really are just completely against quickies, aren’t you?”

“Morally and religiously, yes," he announced firmly as he puffed up his chest.

“Religiously?” you repeated with an eyeroll.

“Making you come at least three times is sacred,” he explained. “I worship your body. The shapes I make with my tongue on your clit? I’m spelling out my prayers.”

“You do spend a lot of time on your knees,” you remembered.

“Yeah, well, so do you,” he winked. “But you really do need to get up. And I need to shower before I go warm the car up.”

“Fine," you groaned, wrenching yourself out of his grasp and hopping out of bed.

"That's the spirit," he laughed, getting up with you and starting his own morning routine.

He had to keep you in check to make sure you were ready on time, but with a little encouragement he was able to get you in the car with even some time to spare. And since it was just the two of you and you weren't going to be seen getting out of the car, you could ride passenger and be closer to him.

"What's this meeting about again?" he asked as he took the car around the driveway and out of the front gate, starting the commute to the address you'd given him.

"Director wants me for a project, we're gonna talk about her vision and see if it's a good fit."

"Have you seen a script yet?" he asked, hoping that you'd let him take a look at it if you had.

"No, it's still being written, but the concept sounds amazing. I'll tell you all about it after the meeting," you promised.

He checked the estimated arrival time on the GPS screen and noticed it was even faster than he anticipated.

"Hey, we've got some room for error— do you wanna stop for breakfast?" he offered.

"I want breakfast, but I don't wanna stop," you decided.

"What, like drive-through?" he asked, but then you suddenly reached across the console and slid your hand over his thigh and right over his groin. "Oh, fuck."

You smirked as you leaned in a little bit, resting your head on his shoulder as he started to grow hard in your palm. "Keep your eyes on the road, okay?"

"O-okay," he nodded a little, shifting in his seat to make it easier for you to undo his belt and fly.

You reached into his boxers and wrapped your fingers around his shaft— even just that made him shiver and blink a few times to try to focus on driving. Your fingers were a little cold but it was welcome relief considering he was suddenly burning up.

A few strokes were enough to get him fully hard, and it took a deep breath to keep him together as you leaned your head down into his lap, giving a slow lick right over his tip. "Fuck," he whispered under his breath, but you definitely heard it because he could feel your smirk as you kissed up and down his length.

Just when he was about to beg for it, you wrapped your lips around him and sucked, gentle at first but slowly getting more aggressive as he fought the urge to buck up into your mouth.

"Oh god," he sighed, head falling back onto the headrest. Your tongue swiped over his slit where precum had gathered already, and it was just another reminder that you'd already found all his most sensitive places and planned to use them against him whenever you could.

A little hum echoing in your throat vibrated through his cock, making him hiss a little as you started to set your pace of bobbing up and down and stroking what you couldn't fit in your mouth. Little drops of your spit rolled down the shaft to his balls and if he wasn't trying to hard to look at the other cars on the road he would've let his eyes roll back in his head.

Finally, a red light gave him a chance to take his hands off the wheel and grab your hair, stroke your back, hold your face— he didn't really care what, he just needed to touch you.

"Baby," he groaned, "fuck, you're so good… keep sucking my cock, just like that, oh my god—"

A car horn tore him from the moment and made him realize the light had turned green. One hand quickly shot up to steer as he let his foot up off the brake, breathing through his teeth as you sucked him harder and deeper.

Just as he put his foot on the gas, you took him down your throat until your lips met with the very base of him, and the shock made his leg jerk and sent the car lurching forward.

You were laughing a little as you pulled off of him, still stroking his soaking wet length as you popped up to glance out the windshield and then up at him. "Drive much?"

"All the time," he defended breathlessly, "but, uh, not usually like this."

"You can handle it," you scoffed. "All you need to do is not hit any cars or poles or pedestrians. Just relax and let me get my breakfast…"

You went back down with a smirk as he exhaled sharply, silently promising himself that he was going to keep his cool and drive safely.

Instantly, the tip of your tongue just barely pushing into his slit sent that plan out the window, a loud moan echoing through the car and his eyes falling shut for only a moment.

"Jesus fucking Christ," he groaned.

You let out a coy little giggle before getting back into it, returning to your reliable pattern of stroking and sucking with the occasional venture into the back of your throat— but this time gaining speed steadily, making his toes curl inside his boots and the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

His metal hand had a death grip on the steering wheel while his other stroked your hair and held you down just a moment longer each time your throat wrapped around his head.

"Fuck, baby, I'm gonna— oh god—" he tried to warn you.

You moaned approvingly, stroking your hand and bobbing your head faster.

His turn was coming up and he needed to get two lanes over, but at this point he accepted that he was going to miss the turn because he just needed to come down your throat right fucking now; he didn't even hear the GPS announcing that it was recalculating the route, he didn't even care that he was driving way too slow, all he could perceive was the feeling of your lips around him as he throbbed with each pump of his load onto your tongue.

"Fuuuuckkkk," he gasped as he held you down at your neck, making sure you got every drop. But that backfired pretty quickly when he let go and you still didn't come back up, sucking as if he hadn't come at all. "Oh— oh fuck!" he yelped, and his fears that his eyes would fall shut were gone because they were wide fucking open now, his breathing coming fast and hot through his teeth as your tongue refused to let up.

Your little moans made it clear this was not an accident, but a deliberate attack on his senses that made his entire body jolt.

He tried to pull you off of him, and you resisted for just a moment before finally giving him a break, popping up from his lap to swallow what was in your mouth and lick your lips with a prideful smirk. He allowed himself a quick glance at your satisfied expression as he laughed exhaustedly, still trying to catch his breath as you leaned back in your seat.

"You are…" he began, but he didn't even know where to start. "That was dangerous," he decided to inform you instead.

"But it was fun," you grinned.

Another red light gave him a chance to tuck his softened cock back into his jeans. "We're just a few minutes away, so I don't have time to return the favor," he realized with a frown.

"Don't sweat it, I get the feeling you're gonna more than make it up to me tonight."

"What makes you so sure?" he smirked, even though you were completely right.

"Because I'm gonna take you out somewhere fancy, and you always put out after I buy you dinner," you explained with a chuckle.

"It's cause every time we go out, I have to act all professional and stuff, so when we get home I just can't wait to get my hands on you again."

He pulled in to the parking garage of the studio, finding a spot before turning off the car. You were about to grab your bag but he pulled you into a kiss; not so desperate since he'd just come two minutes ago, but still plenty passionate as his tongue slid over yours in search of the taste of himself to remember what you'd done even clearer.

Your lips moved against his with a quiet little moan, so precious that he couldn't stop himself from gripping your waist tightly.

"You're sure you can't be a few minutes late?" he mumbled, barely pulling back as he reached up and held your face in his hands. "We could get in the back and you could ride me real quick."

"Ah ah ah, we know there's no 'real quick' with you, you said it yourself," you reminded him. "You'll say it's just to take the edge off and then I'll end up folded like a pretzel while you rail me for an hour."

He laughed; he couldn't deny that. "Fair enough. Go to your stupid meeting."

"It won't even take that long," you promised. "And I'll be thinking of you the whole time… hard not to when sucking you off got me so wet."

"Fuck," he growled, "you'd better leave now before I change my mind and make you stay."

You smiled and gave him a peck on the nose before opening the door and getting out of the car. He took a moment to watch you walk away before grabbing his newest borrowed book from the glovebox: Tuck Everlasting. You promised this one wouldn't make him cry which was the only way he agreed to read it because he couldn't handle another sad ending again. And, because he was a little too in love to think straight, he actually believed you.

He hadn't told you yet, though; it was way, way too early for him to feel this way at all, let alone tell you about it. For now, the two of you had something great going, and he didn't want to rush it. Well, he did want to rush it, but he knew he shouldn't, so he kept his feelings to himself for the time being.

//

You were heating up some Vietnamese leftovers on the stove (you’d taught Bucky to stop using the microwave to reheat noodles and now he would never go back) while your boyfriend relaxed on the couch, attempting to find something decent to watch with your meal.

“Hey, one of your movies is on later,” he noticed as he scrolled through the channels. “We could watch that.”

Maybe it was weird that you watched your own movies pretty often— after all, plenty of actors preferred to avoid seeing their own performance— but it made perfect sense to you; you took roles in the kinds of movies that you enjoyed watching and wanted to see more of. It wasn’t that you sought out something you’d been in to watch, and it definitely wasn’t that you didn’t cringe a little watching yourself, but you just happened to like a lot of the things that you’d been in. Plus, they brought back sweet memories. “Oh, which one?” you asked, focusing mainly on stirring the food in the wok.

“After Midnight,” he informed you, and your smile dropped.

“Oh. Um, I don’t like that one,” you dismissed quickly, “what else could we watch?”

“Really?” he pressed, unfortunately not following your segue. “It’s pretty popular… I never saw it, sorry, but I figured I should. Is it not good?”

“No, it’s good, it just—”

“Then what don’t you like about it?”

“Do you not know that I did that movie with Sam Wilson?” you finally blurted out.

“Oh…” he deflated slightly. “You two dated, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, over a year,” you remembered, sounding more somber than you intended.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring up any bad memories,” he frowned, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.

“No, it’s okay, it’s not bad memories,” you soothed.

“Well, I didn’t mean to bring up any good memories either,” he smirked. “I guess you guys were pretty serious?”

“I thought so,” you answered, leaving the silent second half hanging in the air: He didn’t.

“Kinda sucks you can’t watch your own movie just ‘cause your ex is in it,” he realized.

“Yeah, that one’s especially hard since that’s how we met and all… and I was basically the only person on the planet who didn’t watch Code Gray while it was on,” you remembered. “I mean, everyone was talking about it and I just had to smile and nod and try to ignore the big-ass billboards in LA with his face on them. You get used to that last part, though.”

“Maybe you get used to it, but I don’t think I will,” he admitted.

“I guess it’s easier when you’ve already seen your own face on a billboard,” you shrugged, turning off the stove and distributing the food into two bowls.

"That reminds me, I saw your perfume ad on the side of a skyscraper yesterday," he told you proudly.

"Oh yeah? How's it look?" you asked as you stuck some chopsticks into the food and brought it with you to the living room.

"Looks good, I guess, but it doesn't really look like you to me. You're so airbrushed I couldn't see all my favorite little details of your face," he admitted as you set the bowls on the coffee table.

"That's the nature of the game," you shrugged, joining him on the couch and relaxing against his chest as he embraced you.

“Dating in the public eye must be tough…” he mumbled. You twiddled your thumbs and wondered if that meant he didn’t want to go public with you. He must have sensed your discomfort; he always did. “What’s on your mind, beautiful?”

"Would you ever want to… you know… go public? I wouldn't blame you if you'd rather stay this way as long as possible—"

"What?!" he scoffed. "Baby… I don't care about the spotlight, for better or for worse, I just care about you. And I want to shout it from the fucking rooftops if you'll let me."

You grinned and snuggled up into his arms. “Really?”

“Yeah,” he hummed.

“We could, you know… start that process, if you wanted.”

“What about what you want?” he pressed instead.

“I want everybody to know,” you decided with a smile that you tried (and failed) to fight. “I want to be able to go out with you and not worry about who sees or how you touch me.”

He grinned and kissed you, gentle but a little bit less than innocent. "I want that too," he whispered.

"Then let's do it," you announced giddily. "But, let's have dinner first."

//

He was reading as he waited for you in bed, starting to pick up on the fact that you'd duped him into another heartbreaking read. He was about to confront you about it when you returned from the hallway, but you spoke first.

"I just got off the phone with my publicist," you informed him, "she thinks we should get papped together before I post about it on Instagram."

"'Get papped'?" he repeated incredulously as he slipped a bookmark between the pages and set the novel aside. "Is that some sort of hip slang for getting a pap smear because, I'll warn you now, I’m pretty sure anatomy dictates that we can't do that together."

"Paparazzi," you clarified unamusedly as you got in bed next to him. "She wants us to go to lunch or something and tip off a few photographers; it'll be in the gossip rags by tomorrow."

"God, being famous sounds weird as fuck," he shivered.

"You'll find out for yourself soon," you warned, half ominous and half humorous, as you laid your head on his chest. "You're gonna have your own following once this hits."

He grimaced a little, afraid of becoming slightly famous in his own rite just for dating you when he didn't actually have any talent worthy of attention or praise. “Oh god, I’m not gonna have to make an Instagram, am I?”

"No, but you might want to consider a tinted moisturizer," you pondered aloud as you suddenly examined his face closely.

He gently batted your hand away as you reached up to poke his cheek. "Okay, I get it, I'm old. Makeup ain't gonna fix that."

"You're not old," you laughed, "and it's not that there's anything wrong with your face, it's just that everybody looks washed out on camera and the magazines and their readers are fucking ruthless. If I go out without mascara they'll start running shit about how I'm turning into a crypt keeper. God forbid I wear a tight shirt after eating a massive burrito; they'll pick out baby names for me."

"Christ," he groaned.

"You still wanna do this right?" you asked quietly, shifting from joking to concerned so quickly.

"Of course," he assured, clutching your hand where it had been absent-mindedly rubbing over his chest hair. "Do you?"

"Yeah," you smiled, relaxing again. "I can't wait, honestly."

"Then let's do the lunch thing tomorrow. You have to help me pick what to wear, though." Your arms wrapped around his torso and hugged him tight. "Ooh, don't squeeze me so hard, I ate a lot of Vietnamese food," he frowned.

"Sorry," you giggled, still holding him close but applying less pressure. He wrapped his arm around your shoulders, instinctively stroking your arm with his thumb for a moment before leaning over to turn off the lamp on his bedside table.

Yes, his bedside table, with a drawer full of his stuff. Next to your bed. It was like his wildest (yet most domestic) fantasies coming true and he was beside himself about it.

"G'night," you whispered, cuddling up closer to him.

"Goodnight," he whispered back, planting a kiss on the top of your head. He stayed awake just long enough to hear your breathing and feel your heartbeat as they slowed down, only then allowed himself to fall asleep as well.

//

You'd convinced him to stick to his usual style of 90% leather and denim, while you opted for the classic "I'm famous but I'm pretending I'm normal but I'm definitely not" look of jeans and a t-shirt that looked casual but actually cost nearly a grand combined. It was the ideal look for allegedly-candid pap pics, in your mind; unfortunately, the ribs were wanted to order were not part of that look, and you frowned a little as you ordered your salad and gave the menu back to your waitress.

"I'll have the same," Bucky mumbled quickly and handed his menu over as well, the waitress nodding before she stepped away.

"Salad? Really?" you questioned, fixing your hair for a moment since the breeze had messed it up slightly; you had to sit outside for visibility reasons, and thankfully the weather was gorgeous, but you could do without the wind.

"I'm not stupid, I know better than to unhinge my jaw to eat a burger when I'm going to be photographed," he chuckled. "I'm not hungry anyways, I'm too nervous."

"Don't be nervous," you dismissed, "all you have to do is sit here and not suppress the instinct to act like my boyfriend."

He reached forward and rested his hand on top of yours on the table, stroking your wrist with his thumb. "How about this?"

You smiled a little, feeling your face warm; sometimes he made you feel all shy and giddy like that, just from the simplest things.

“So, when are the paparazzi getting here?” he asked, breaking the silence that you hadn't even really noticed before, too lost in your thoughts.

“They’re already here. Across the street, behind those bushes.”

“Wha— oh my god,” Bucky gasped as he craned his head to see there were, in fact, cameras obscured behind the foliage, “they’re good!”

“Yeah, it’s too bad they use their powers for evil most of the time,” you frowned. “Spent a lot of time and money trying to keep less flattering pictures out of the papers.”

“How ‘less flattering’ are we talking here?” he pressed with a raised eyebrow.

“Unfortunate angles while getting out of a car… maybe a rendezvous on a balcony that we thought was totally private…”

“Do I want to know who the ‘we’ was?”

“Nope,” you grinned. "That's all in the past now… and right now I'm here with you." For emphasis, you slipped one of your shoes off and playfully trailed your foot up his leg.

"Careful there, honey, or you're gonna end up with some more dirty pictures to bribe some sleaze into deleting," he warned with a smirk.

"Just gotta make sure these pictures make it clear we're not just friends," you explained, shrugging a little but wiggling your toes as you moved just past his knee before going back down and slipping your shoe on.

"Maybe we're just really, really good friends."

"Ever gotten this personal at lunch with a really, really good friend?" you asked playfully.

"No, I don't think so…"

"Ever had sex in the bathroom of a really fancy restaurant?" you added, voice dropping as you grinned.

"No, and I never will," he laughed, "because the chances of getting caught are astronomically too high. We literally came here for the express purpose of getting caught."

"Yeah, fair enough," you deflated slightly, taking another bite of your salad.

It was easy after that: just talking with him as naturally as you always did. He glanced over at the hidden photographers occasionally but you'd all but forgotten they were there.

"Well, I think our job here is done," you decided after a half hour had passed. You stood up from your chair and he followed suit, but he stopped you before you turned away.

"Not quite yet," he smirked as he pulled you closer and into a kiss— one that just barely pushed into 'a little too steamy for out in public' territory. Even so, he was the one that had to pull away first because you quickly got so lost in it that you would've let him go on forever. "Now we're done."

"Yep, that'll do it!" you laughed, hugging him quickly before dropping a fifty on the table (it was a 40% tip but who cares) and leading him back to the car.

//

His phone was already set to give him news updates about you, and he smirked when he checked it after dinner only to see your plan already in motion so easily.

New photos spark Y/N Y/L/N dating rumors

Is Y/N Y/L/N dating again after highly-publicized romance with ‘Code Gray’ star Sam Wilson?

‘Touch of Blood,’ ‘After Midnight’ Star Spotted At More-Than-Friendly Lunch with Her Bodyguard

Y/N Y/L/N and Mystery Guy Get Frisky Over Salads at Lazan Bistro In The Lower East Side

“Now we just have to wait until tomorrow,” you smirked. “Is it weird that I’m all jittery about it? I mean, it doesn’t really matter, cause we’re the only thing that matters, but—”

“No, it’s okay, I’m excited too,” he agreed, setting his phone down and wrapping his arms around your waist. “Although I am enjoying my last day of anonymity.”

“Soak it in, Bucky-boy, most of us don’t get the chance to really appreciate it before it’s gone,” you giggled. “You should go out and celebrate— go grocery shopping, see a movie, something I can’t do anymore.”

“If you can’t do it anymore, does that mean you’re not coming with me?”

“That’s sort of the point.”

“But I’ll miss you…”

“You’re so needy,” you rolled your eyes. “But I like it,” you added with a peck to his cheek.

“Need anything from the grocery store? Or the movie theater?”

“All I need is a kiss before you go,” you decided.

He purred and pulled you a little closer, ghosting his lips over your cheek. “Do I get to pick where it is?”

“Above the belt,” you scolded playfully.

“That still gives me plenty of options,” he smiled as he leaned down to lift your shirt up, deciding to place his slow, gentle kiss onto your nipple. He wrapped his lips around it carefully, circling his tongue around the bud as it hardened.

“Oh fuck,” you sighed, weaving your fingers into his hair.

He grinned and looked up at you, pulling away just a little too soon to hear your pretty whines. Who’s the needy one now? “Can I give you one more kiss, on the other one?”

“Only in the interest of symmetry,” you smirked, moaning when he moved to the other nipple and sucked it a little harder than the last. He let his teeth just barely graze the sensitive skin, your body jolting in his arms at the sensation.

“Oh, I bit this one but not the first one,” he realized, “so I’m gonna have to go back. For symmetry.”

He kissed his way back and gave a rough lap over it before sucking it between his lips and using his teeth just like he’d promised. “God, just fuck me.”

“Really? I thought you wanted me to go out without you,” he remembered.

“Later,” you sighed, “need you now.”

A prideful grin stretched over his face as he stood back up and held you tight, tapping your back to instruct you to jump into his arms and wrap your legs around his hips— which you did instinctively, much to his delight. “Okay, pretty girl, let’s get you to bed.”

[archived-kin]

solomon deserves a husband so i'm giving him one (it's you)

note from kin: i don’t know HOW i’ve managed to get this out so soon after my last piece but i do know that it is a miracle (now watch me disappear for like a month lmao)

anyway there’s a severe lack of content for the boys in this fandom and therefore i am here to try to mitigate that!!

(as a heads up, this is sort of an au version of obey me’s story?? there’s no exchange program, and the general human world doesn’t know about the devildom or celestial realm, apart from sorcerers and similar special cases. solomon and simeon both still visit the devildom, though - solomon because he has a sort of job at the r.a.d., and simeon as an ambassador sort of thing for the celestial realm. the r.a.d.’s also less of a school and more of an organisation?? i haven’t really fleshed it out haha)

fandom: obey me!

character(s): male! reader, solomon, mammon (briefly), simeon (briefly)

pairing(s): solomon/reader

warning(s): blasphemy??? solomon disses god really briefly and that’s about it

genre: fluff!!!!!!!!!

As a general rule of thumb, Solomon doesn’t believe in destiny.

He’s lived long enough to know that, no matter what he does, the universe does not care about him, much less have some sort of plan for his future. The course that the world takes isn’t affected by some grand puppet master pulling the strings; one has to force the so-called path of fate in the direction they want it to take if they want something. Solomon knows this better than anyone.

It’s as much a downfall as it is a strength - as much as power as he’s amassed over the countless years, his constant need to challenge the universe’s power has lead him down a path far from humanity. There had been a time when he was like every other human on the Earth, when he was still young, full of hope and determination and promise, believing earnestly in some God high in the sky who would guide him through his life.

He shudders to think what sort of insufferable fool he’d been back then. An almighty God? Don’t make him laugh. The ruler of the Celestial Realm is incompetent at best, and a downright childish brat at worst. He doesn’t know how the angels put up with him - though he supposes his realm-smiting power is part of it. Why the universe chose to place such power on such a being’s shoulders will always be beyond him.

Long as it has been since he had been so naive, Solomon has learnt his lesson, to say the least. He’s seen people come and go, witnessed kings and queens reign and fall, watched on as friends and family live and die. It’s a truth that he’s been forced to learn across the years of his long, long life, a curse that he brought upon himself the moment he gave up the purity of his soul in pursuit of magical arts. 

He supposes he’s always had an insatiable thirst for the unknown - to play all his cards out front, to tempt fate’s hand, to jump into the void and hope to find ground beneath his feet when he lands. It’s that sort of reckless abandon and hunt for knowledge that has led him so far down this path, through so many years, across so many sleepless nights. The world continues to swirl around him, always changing, but Solomon refuses to be swept away. Because, even in the tumultuous movement of the universe, there has always been one constant that keeps him anchored - you.

The night he'd first met you isn’t as clear in his mind as he would have liked. He wants to be able to remember everything - the way the soft blue light of the will-o’-whisps had lit up your eyes in the dark of the night, the way that your hand had felt in his as you greeted him with a handshake, the way that you had said his name for the first time - in sharp detail, but Solomon knows better than to hope to recall something so long ago so perfectly.

He’d still been relatively new to a sorcerer’s life at the time - excited and determined and a little too full of himself. You… well, he doesn’t remember exactly, but he does remember thinking that you must be the most handsome being to exist. The you of today would probably shake your head and dismiss the past you as an obnoxious high hoper, but Solomon has loved you for so many years that he’s never been able to think of you as anything less than perfect.

There are times when he wondered how he managed to stumble upon such luck. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that Solomon has has had truly insufferable periods over the years he’s known you, and he’s always considered it a miracle that you still chose to stay. Even through all the restless nights and the exhausting trips, even after all of the clashes and vexation, you have refused to give up on him.

He had asked you once, in the aftermath of an argument spurred by his inability to confide in you and your own frustration with his refusal to communicate. He remembers that night so vividly that it might well have happened just yesterday - the frustrated shouts, the shattering of glass, the warmth of your arms around his shoulders as he finally collapsed on himself. He doesn’t know what your face had looked like as he stuttered the question out in stuttering breaths, head buried in your shoulder in an effort to conceal his tears, but he imagines that it had been soft.

“I’m not going to leave you to yourself,” You had told him matter-of-factly, stroking his hair with such fondness  that it still sometimes brings a tear to his eye when he remembers it on particularly long nights. “And I’m not giving up on you, either - not now, not ever.”

Solomon had been unable to speak, too choked up by his feelings and the sudden, overwhelming love spreading through his entire body to reply. He’d only sunk deeper into your embrace, wishing that the moment could last forever.

I wonder if he still remembers that…?

“...lomon! Anyone home?!”

He jolts up from the table he’s sitting at so abruptly that he nearly knocks his head right into Mammon’s chin. The Avater of Greed, however, reacts quickly, and hops back before Solomon can break his jawbone.

“Jeez, you’re off on a different planet today,” He comments, setting his hands on his hips as Solomon shoots him the sort of look that tells him that he’s not particularly enthused about his presence at the moment. “What’s up with ya?”

Solomon isn’t quite sure how to answer. Sorry, I got distracted thinking about how perfect and lovely my husband is and how I’m the luckiest man in the entire world - nay, the universe - to have him. He nearly physically shudders at the thought of how much teasing he’d receive if he answered like that.

Instead, he chooses a much safer and still technically true option. “Just thinking about going home today.”

Mammon nods in understanding, pulling up a seat next to him and throwing himself down into it without much grace. “I feel ya. S’ been a long day.”

“You’ve barely done anything today,” Solomon quips flatly, not particularly impressed by the demon’s attempt at… empathy? Relatability? Either way, it isn’t working. “I doubt it’s been that hard.”

“Now, now, Solomon, let’s not be rude,” interjects a soft voice from behind them. Simeon is still dressed in his fancy envoy cloak - the one so long and heavy that it trails along behind him like a bridal train, decorated with a number of elaborate golden charms that jingle as he moves.

Solomon attempts to shoot him a slightly annoyed look, but it’s kind of hard to stay irritated by one of the literal embodiments of holiness and light, even if he wakes you up at very unholy hours of the morning to help him figure out how to answer an email. Solomon isn’t ungrateful for the new age of technology descending on humanity, but he’d like it a lot better if it hadn’t somehow reached the angels as well. The amount of times he’s had to tell Simeon that he needs to actually turn his D.D.D. on before he starts calling someone is… embarrassing, to say the least.

“You’re back in the Devildom, I see,” He observes as the angel pulls up a seat and sits beside him. “Did Michael send you down again?”

Simeon nods with a smile. “There were some arrangements that needed to be made with Lord Diavolo. Naturally, I volunteered.”

“Naturally,” Solomon echoes, raising a brow at his friend. “I don’t suppose your biases had anything to do with your decision?”

“Well, they may have had some effect,” Simeon answers with a shameless smile and shrug, beginning to undo the tassels of his heavy cloak and draping it on the back of chair he’s sitting on. He’s still wearing all of his regular clothes underneath it - including the other, much smaller cloak. Solomon wonders how he hasn’t somehow melted in the heat.

“When’re you gonna start heading home, anyway?” Mammon asks, beginning to pick at a loose thread on his jacket sleeve. “It’s gettin’ late.”

Solomon blinks and looks up at the clock. “...ah, you’re right. In that case, I'll get going now.”

Mammon shoots him an odd look as he pushes himself up from the table and reaches for his bag, managing to hoist it onto his shoulder with some effort. He’s never been particularly good at heavy lifting - you’re usually the one helping him carry everything around the house.

“Oi, oi, what’s the rush?” the demon asks as Solomon adjusts the weight of his bag and starts heading for the door. “You on a timer or something?”

“I promised [Name] I’d be home earlier tonight,” is Solomon’s slightly absent-minded reply as he fiddles about in his pocket to find his transportation charm, nearly losing his balance and dropping his bag in the process. “I’ll see you both tomorrow.”

Mammon watches him in clear confusion for a moment as he pats down his pockets, mumbling a quiet curse under his breath as he realises that he’s left his charm at home again. How many times this month does that make it now...? He supposes that he could always perform a teleportation spell, but knowing his luck with those, he’ll probably end up somewhere in Morocco again.

“Oi, Simeon,” Mammon hisses to the angel, who cocks his head slightly to the side and leans over so as to hear him more clearly. “Who’s this ‘[Name]’ Solomon’s talkin’ about?”

“You don’t know?” Simeon blinks at him in blatant perplexion - as if he can’t even fathom the idea that Mammon might not know who Solomon’s talking about. “He’s talking about his husband.”

There’s a long moment of silence. Then—

“Solomon has a HUSBAND!?” Mammon practically shrieks, completely flabbergasted. “I thought he was totally, like, the forever alone type!”

“Don’t tell me you’ve never noticed?” is Simeon’s bewildered response. “Who do you think Solomon is always talking about buying groceries for?”

“I thought he was just buyin’ them for himself!” Mammon fires back, looking far more ruffled and shocked than he probably should be. He whips around to look at Solomon, who’s flicking through the little packet of blank charms he keeps on him at all times in an effort to find the right one to create a temporary transportation charm. He’s had to do it so many times this month that he’s already beginning to run out. “You’re married?!”

“Of course,” Solomon answers vaguely, briefly raising his left hand, allowing Mammon to spot the soft glint of a ring around his fourth finger. “You’re not?”

“Wh— ‘course I’m not!” Mammon exclaims, positively scandalised by the very concept. “Why would I get married, huh?! It’s a waste of time and a waste of money!”

“Think whatever you like,” Solomon dismisses him easily, which only seems to irritate Mammon further.

Finally having found the right blank charm, he plucks it out and begins carefully tracing patterns onto it with a single glowing finger. He’s dimly aware of Mammon furiously whispering to Simeon in the background, with the angel responding in kind, most likely sharing some exaggerated story from back when the three of you had worked together - when Solomon had accepted a job from the Celestial Realm. The details of the whole thing are a little fuzzy to him now, long as it has been, but he’s almost completely sure that Simeon somehow still remembers the whole thing flawlessly.

“How old even is he?!” He hears Mammon hiss.

“I’m not so sure myself,” Simeon replies, placing his chin in a thoughtful hand. “Let’s see… their two millennial anniversary’s coming up in about two years, and I remember Solomon saying that they got married when he was around two hundred or so… which means he’s about twenty-one hundred years old.”

“Holy shit,” Mammon mutters in disbelief, turning glance at the sorcerer as he starts folding down the corners of his charm into the right shape. “Humans aren’t supposed to live that long. How’s his husband still alive, then?”

“That isn’t really a question for me to answer,” Simeon shakes his head slightly. “I suppose you can always ask him yourself if Solomon ever brings him to work with him.”

“I doubt it,” Solomon speaks up for the first time since announcing his departure. “He’s usually busy during the day. Besides, transportation charms make him queasy, and I’m not making him walk all the way down here.”

“Aren’t you a wizard?” Mammon asks, scratching his head. “Just do one of ya fancy teleportation spells. Why d’you need a charm?”

Solomon sighs. He hates to admit it, but he can’t be bothered to make up some other reason to cover up for himself. “I’m afraid that teleportation spells aren’t actually particularly accurate. We could end up somewhere in the Pacific if I’m not careful.”

Mammon looks thunderstruck. “Then what about all those times you’ve teleported us?! Don’t tell me we coulda ended up in, like, the Archaic Pit or something?!”

“Well, it was always a possibility,” Solomon shrugs in reply, finishing the charm with a deft flick of his hand. “You’re a demon, I sure you could have handled yourself.”

“But…!” Mammon crosses his arms and turns away like a grumpy child. “Hmph…”

“Do say hello to [Name] for me, will you?” Simeon requests as Solomon turns to open the door, ignoring the sulking demon sitting beside him. “We haven’t been able to talk for a while.”

“You text him every day, don’t you?” Solomon asks, shooting him an unimpressed look. “I’d say that’s conversation enough.”

“Now, now, there’s no need to be stingy,” Simeon countered with a smile, tilting his head slightly to the side and leaning forward. “Besides, one misses the presence of an actual person after a while of nothing but electronic communication... especially texting is so difficult. Tell him he’s always welcome to come around for some tea - Luke would be happy to see him.”

Solomon shakes his head, but makes a sound of affirmation nevertheless. You had mentioned that you’ve missed seeing Simeon since he’d started the whole negotiator businesss, and he isn’t the sort of person to deny you the company of a friend. “I’ll let him know. Anyway, I should really be going now…”

“Have a safe journey!” Simeon calls after him as he swings the door open and sweeps out. Solomon waves a hand over his shoulder in response, then disappears down the corridor, most likely to a quiet spot in the courtyard to use his charm. He’s been banned from using them indoors ever since he accidentally shattered one of the fancy artifacts in the assembly hall and sent hundreds of shards flying everywhere. Apparently Barbatos is still finding tiny pieces of glass in the crevices of the floor.

“Why didn’t Solomon ever say anythin’?” Mammon asks Simeon after a moment of quietude. “Seems like the sorta thing you’d mention.”

“Solomon’s a private man,” Simeon says with a shrug. “Besides, he and [Name] have made plenty of enemies over the years, and you’d be shocked by how quickly names and locations can spread…”

“Does he mind us knowin’ about it, then?”

“Well, personally, I’ve known for a while,” Simeon answers, “And I’m sure the others will have worked it out by now - Solomon’s always finding ways to mention [Name] in passing. But no, I’m sure he doesn’t mind. He’d say something if he did.”

Mammon nods and goes silent for a little while. Then he asks, “What’s this [Name] like, then? Must be some guy if Solomon liked him enough to put a ring on him and keep him for that long.”

“Well, let’s see…” Simeon drums his fingers thoughtfully against the tabletop. “He has quite the penchant for raising deadly plants, he hasn’t gone more than a full month without exploding something or another for about five centuries, he takes clocks apart in his spare time, he likes his coffee with a touch of vanilla, he collects cursed books, he makes a lovely butterscotch-cinnamon pie, and he works as a curse breaker for hire.”

It takes a moment for Mammon to process all of the information that’s just been dumped on him. “...sounds like the kinda guy Satan would get along with.”

“I thought so as well,” Simeon agrees. “Their house even reminds me of Satan’s room, in a way… [Name] is quite the avid reader.”

“What, you’ve been?”

“Only once,” Simeon’s eyes flutter closed for a moment as he reminisces. “Quite a long time ago now. I wouldn’t know where to find it even if I wanted to go again, though - it’s always moving.”

“Do they move house a lot, then?”

Simeon shakes his head. “Oh, no, no. They’ve lived in the same house for centuries - it’s the house that moves itself.”

Mammon pauses. “...what?”

“The building,” Simeon clarifies. “They’ve got an enchantment on the whole thing that makes it change locations every couple of weeks or so.”

“But… why?”

Simeon shrugs. “[Name] doesn’t like staying in one place for too long.”

“Still, isn’t that a bit much…?” Mammon pulls a face. “They could always just travel, ya know…”

“As Solomon said, transportation talismans make [Name] feel queasy,” Simeon explains. “And he prefers not to use teleportation spells when it comes to him, just in case they end up somewhere dangerous.”

“And he doesn’t care about the rest of us ending up somewhere dangerous?” Mammon huffs and collapses forwards onto the table.

“Well, you can’t really compare the two,” Simeon says patiently as the demon continues to mutter indignantly under his breath. “He’s his husband, and we’re essentially just his friends from work.”

Mammon opens his mouth to make a rebuttal, then thinks about it for a moment and changes his mind. After a moment, he comments, a little less resentfully, “Well, you’d think he’d at least introduce us.”

“He’s been planning to for a while, actually,” Simeon tells him. “Give him some time and he’ll probably bring it up on his own.”

Mammon nods. “He’d better!”

“I’m home.”

You look up from the book you’re reading and hop down from your seat on the roof just in time to see Solomon emerge from the back garden, looking noticeably dishevelled, with leaves decorating his head like some sort of fancy accessory.

“Welcome back!” You greet him happily, setting the book aside and moving forward to start picking the leaves from his hair. Solomon smiles softly at you as you take his bag in one hand and start pulling him to the front door with the other. “You forgot your talisman again, by the way.”

“I noticed,” He laughs, gently removing your hand from his upper arm and wrapping his fingers around it instead. “Why else do you think I ended up in the hedges again?”

“It’s a wonder that you’ve had to make these temporary talismans so many times and you still haven’t gotten one right yet,” You tease in reply, nudging him in the shoulder. “How many points is that on the tally now, then?”

“Ten for the basement, seven for the roof, and eleven for the hedges now,” He answers with a small pout as you laugh. “Honestly, you’d think I would have learnt my lesson...”

“You never do, love.” 

The door creaks as you and your husband enter the house, only to immediately be greeted by a bundle of scales hitting you head-on. You manage to keep your footing and steady yourself on the doorway; Solomon isn’t so lucky, and ends up laying spread-eagled on the floor with about two hundred kilograms of excited adolescent dragon purring on his chest.

“Looks like Triton missed you,” You comment with a bright smile, setting Solomon’s bag down beside the umbrella rack and leaning over to give the dragon a scratch behind his left horn, just the way he likes it. He rumbles happily and jingles the little bell around his neck at you. “Isn’t he getting big?”

“I saw him this morning, [Name],” Solomon wheezes from his position on the floor, somehow managing to reach up and tickle Triton’s chin with one hand despite the dragon’s weight. “He can’t have grown that much in ten hours.”

“You never know!” You tell him, reaching up and wrapping your arms around Triton’s neck. He coos in a delighted fashion and raises his head, setting it heavily on your shoulder. Solomon uses the brief lightening of the weight on him to take in a deep breath as you allow your dragon to nuzzle furiously into your neck. “Dragons are unpredictable, you know.”

“Believe me, I do,” He sighs tiredly as Triton blows out a pleased puff of hot air and knocks the clock off the wall again. “Now, if you wouldn’t mind, Triton, I’d quite like to get back up again.”

The dragon blinks and raises his head from your shoulder, glancing down at the sorcerer that he’s crushing under his weight. Then he huffs and turns away again.

“Oh, you—!” Solomon curses as the dragon seems to press even harder into him. Your laughter rings out across the hall, and while he’d normally take a moment to admire the sound, he’s a little preoccupied. “[Name], stop laughing and help me!”

“He’s like a rebellious teenager!” You splutter helplessly in reply, voice still trembling slightly out of mirth. Triton makes a happy noise as you reach up and rub his scaly cheeks, his ears fluttering slightly. “Awww, you’re really growing up, aren’t you, baby? Your poor dads are really going to have their work cut out for them, huh?”

“Hey,” Solomon calls reproachfully from beneath Triton’s enormous chest. “Your husband’s still being crushed down here.”

“Oh, right!” You click your tongue and give Triton a meaningful look. He grumbles but obeys nevertheless, hopping off of Solomon (though not without knocking all the air out of him by using his chest as a launchpad) and scampering off, most likely to go play with the salamanders that have set up shop in the storage room again.

“I’ll never understand how you manage him so well,” Solomon sighs as you bend down to pull him to his feet, rubbing at the sore spot on his chest. “He never listens to me.”

“Aw, he loves you, really,” You reassure him, taking his hand and pressing a comforting kiss to his knuckles. “He just likes roughhousing with you.”

Solomon shakes his head, wanting to complain further about the big lizard that the two of you had adopted six months ago after the last one grew up and flew the nest, but then he sees the smile on your face, and he feels the flicker of irritation in his chest die down almost immediately. It’s at times like this that he’s really reminded of how absolutely worth it all of the nonsense he has to put up with at work is - because, at the end of the day, you are here, with your warm eyes and your lovely smile, with your comforting hands and your warm embrace, and there is no road too long to walk if you are waiting for him at the end of it.

“I know,” He sighs, tugging off his shoes and stepping into his favourite pair of slippers - the ones with the little cat faces printed on them that you’ve charmed to always maintain a perfect temperature for his feet. He glances at your own feet and notes that you’re wearing your matching pair as well.

The two of you have long since set up a routine for this sort of occasion, and you both fall into it with unconscious ease. Solomon changes into something more comfortable while you put the kettle on in the kitchen, and the two of you inevitably spend so long snuggled up together on the largest armchair in the living room, unwilling to leave the warmth of each other’s presence, that the water cools down, and you end up having to put it back on again. Then you sit together at the table, you with a coffee with a dash of vanilla and him with his favourite chrysanthemum tea that you always brew just the way he likes it. Sometimes you’ll sit side by side, shoulders pressed up against each other as you show him the specifics of your latest curse-breaking commission, and sometimes you’ll sit across from each other, holding hands across the tabletop as he tells you about his day.

Today it is the former, but Solomon can’t help but zone a little out of the detailed deep-dive you’re giving him about the intricacies of the spell that’s cursed this teapot to shoot its contents at anyone who attempts to fill it. It isn’t that your explanation is boring - quite the contrary, in fact; Solomon could probably listen to you describing the most mundane or trivial of things on loop for the rest of his life and be perfectly content with it. No, it’s more to do with the fact that this is the first time he’s been home before dark in a long while, and he can’t help but revel in the fact that he can spend time with you like this again. Of course, there’s something wonderful in coming home to be able to collapse into bed beside you and bury his face in the crook of your neck, drifting to sleep as you burrow closer to him even in your sleep, but Solomon can’t run off of that forever - he needs to see you with your eyes open as well, after all. 

“You’re not listening to a word I say, are you?” You ask as you note the far-off look on your husband’s face. You’re not offended in the slightest by the way he starts at the directed question, evidently guilty, but you are a little puzzled. “Is there something wrong?”

Solomon’s mouth falls open slightly, then shuts again. There’s something about the way you’re looking at him so earnestly that makes his heart stutter like nothing else. Honestly, you’d think he’d be used to this after nearly two thousand years, but it seems that he’s still as weak for you as he was on the very first day of your marriage. “...I suppose I’ve just got a lot on my mind.”

“You always have a lot on your mind,” You counter softly, giving his hand a brief squeeze. “Come on, you can tell me.”

He laughs quietly, bringing your linked hands up to his face and gently holding yours to the side of his face; you, in turn, unfurl your fingers from around his and rub his cheek affectionately. After a moment, a fond smile pulling at his lips, Solomon replies, “I’ve… missed you a lot this week.”

You pause in mild surprise, but it quickly turns to endearment as Solomon presses his body even closer to yours. The hand that you’re using to hold your mug of coffee moves to settle on his shoulder as you pull him closer. “Really now? What a coincidence. I’ve missed you lots as well, love.”

He chuckles a little bashfully, his cheeks flushing. It seems that your ability to fluster him hasn’t declined even a bit over the years. He’s still well and truly besotted.

You can’t help but find it rather amusing that, despite already having spent a good hour and a half or so in the living room, bundled so close together in the blankets that you could feel his breath on your skin, the two of you are still nestling so close together now. You suppose it’s the effects of a week with much less contact than usual.

You lean forward and press a kiss to his jaw before pulling back again, reaching for your coffee and taking a sip. Solomon exhales softly, pulling his own drink towards him and draining the last of the tea in a single mouthful.

“You know,” He says, setting his empty cup down on the table. “One of my coworkers was asking about you earlier.”

“‘Coworkers’,” You snort at his choice of language, earning a reproachful poke in the side as punishment. “Come on, just admit that they’re your friends.”

“Fine,” He sighs. “One of my friends, then - Mammon, the one that Lucifer’s stringing up all the time.”

“The one with white hair?” You recall, thinking back to the group photo that Simeon had sent you a while back. “He’s the Avatar of Greed, right?”

“That’s the one,” Solomon nods. “Apparently he never noticed that I was married.”

“Well, you can’t really blame him,” You say, giving him a playful nudge. “Honestly, the way you keep your mouth shut, you’d think I was some shameful secret or something.”

Solomon looks scandalised by the very idea - it had only been a little joke, but his eyes flash with such affront that it’s almost as if someone has genuinely called you such a thing. “Of course not! I’d never—”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, I was joking,” You cut him off before he can get more riled up. Solomon calms down quickly once you set a comforting hand on his knee, though he still looks a little indignant. “I know why you don’t like talking about us much, but really, it’s okay. They’re your friends, aren't they?”

He hesitates, then nods, releasing another deep sigh soon afterwards. “I suppose. There isn’t much I can really do about it at this point anyway… according to Simeon, most of them have somehow figured it out already.”

“They’re probably a lot smarter than you give them credit for, Sol,” You hum, reaching up and brushing a stray lock of hair out of his eyes for him. “They’re demons, after all. They’ve lived even longer than us.”

“Believe me, they really aren’t.” Solomon shakes his head, a frown pinching at his brow at the very memory of the amount of things that his coworkers have done recently - some of the most notable being Diavolo setting an entire flock of geese free in the courtyard for an ‘experiment’, Levi quite literally throwing himself out of a window just to win a bet against Mammon about who could get down the stairs faster, Asmo causing a stampede in the main hall by dropping and shattering a bottle full of a powerful aphrodisiac potion that became even more powerful once released into the air, and Lucifer accidentally breaking one of Solomon’s favourite cauldrons when he’d transformed into his demon form and inadvertently smacked halfway across the room it with one of his upper wings.

“I’d really love to meet them some day,” You sigh, swirling the contents of your mug around. “They sound like fun.”

“Trust me, the trouble isn’t worth it—” Solomon attempts to reason with you, but he gives up laughably quickly as you pout at him in protest. “Oh, fine. But don’t blame me if you get sick because of the charm again.”

“We don’t have to use the charm,” You shake your head. “Just do a teleportation spell!”

“You know that that’s risky,” Solomon sighs, chucking you under the chin and leaning forward to kiss the tip of your nose. You laugh as he draws back again, a pleased smile rising on his face at your reaction. “We could end up anywhere.”

“You’ve teleported them a bunch of times, though, haven’t you? And you haven’t ended up in Texas or the Sahara Desert any of those times!”

The resemblance to his earlier conversation with Mammon and Simeon is almost uncanny. “That’s different. I was still teleporting them within the Devildom, not across an entire realm barrier… and besides, I can afford the risk with them. You’re a different story.”

You pout again, shoulders dropping in defeat, though it doesn’t escape Solomon’s notice that his sentiment seems to have appeased you at least a little. “...guess we’ll just have to use a transportation talisman, huh…?”

“That’s your only option if you really want to visit, yes.”

You go quiet for a moment or two, nose wrinkling and face scrunching as you think it over. Solomon doesn’t mind the lack of conversation - he entertains himself by studying your features, wondering for perhaps the millionth time how he managed to find someone like you.

Finally, a determined look rising on your face, you nod and proclaim, “Then I’ll do it!”

Solomon cocks his head slightly to the side. He can’t say he’s surprised by your eagerness, but he had expected it to take you longer to make up your mind. He opens his mouth to say something, but tou answer his question before he’s even asked it, a skill that you’d managed to pick up within the first year or so of knowing him.

“I really wanna see what you actually get up to when you work,” You explain, looking a little sheepish. “You’ve had a job there for nearly two years and I’ve never even said a word to the people you work with.”

Solomon laughs. “It isn’t usually a requirement in the workplace. Wear appropriate uniform, bring any equipment you need, introduce your husband to your coworkers within the decade…”

“Still, I’d feel bad if I didn’t at least meet them,” You say. “Besides, I want to see Simeon as well. You said he’s working down in the Devildom for a bit as well, didn’t you?”

“Why are you so eager to see him, huh?” Solomon’s tone is light and teasing, so you know not to take him seriously as he puts on an hurt expression. “I’m offended. Your dear husband’s right here and you’re thinking about some angel.”

“Oh, stop it, you,” You shake your head in slightly exasperated amusement as he runs a finger down his cheek in lieu of a tear. “You know it’s not like that.”

“Isn’t it?” He pulls an exaggeratedly petulant face and pretends to turn away like an upset child. “Sometimes I feel like you love him more than me.”

“Simeon’s a lovely guy, but you’re still the only guy for me, you doof,” You tell him, tapping fondly at the cheek he’s turned to you with your free hand. Solomon obligingly turns back around to look at you, a grin pulling at his mouth. “Why would I marry you and then stay here for two thousand years if you weren't?”

“I guess I always assumed it was out of pity or something,” He jokes in response, leaning forward and briefly brushing his nose against yours. “And, just so you know, you’re the only guy for me as well.”

“I’d better be,” is your lighthearted reply as he pulls away. After a moment, looking at him expectantly, you begin tentatively, “So…?”

He sighs, but gives you a smile nevertheless. “I’ll ask Diavolo. He probably wouldn’t mind if I brought you without asking first, but Lucifer definitely would.”

“What’ll we do if they hate me?” You ask. “Do demons actually eat humans?”

“They wouldn’t dare,” He replies firmly. “Not if I have anything to say about it. Besides, they won’t hate you. I doubt anyone could.”

You laugh and drop your head to rest on his chest. “You’re too nice to me, love.”

Solomon turns to wrap both his arms around your shoulders, setting his chin on the crown of your head. You smile into his jumper, looping your own arms around his waist and pushing yourself closer to him.

“I’m not just being nice. Honestly, [Name], you’re kind of the most perfect man in the universe.”

[kmorales1]

Office Affairs

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Rating: Explicit (Anyone under 18, go away, thanks.)

Warnings: Uh, unprotected sex(this is fiction please wrap it before you tap it), i'm bad at this. One(1) mention of spit(whoops).

A note: Hey, so I wrote this in an hour and (maybe) a half. This entire thing is purely based off my intense yearning for Javi the past few days(more like weeks). Also he's incredibly hard to write for so I hope I was able to capture his character. This is also my first time writing smut, let alone posting it. Be gentle with your critics lmao. It might not be entirely cohesive but I tried really hard but anyway this is what my brain popped out.

Javier Peña is the type of guy to take you home for a quick fuck, cuddle you like he’s in love with you, and then leave an hour later without barely a glance in your direction. You know this, you’d heard the whispers about him in the embassy when you were making your way to the filing room, or to the break room for your afternoon lunch.

And you believed them.

The first night Javier took you home you were 99% sure that you’d get the best fuck of your life out of him and then he’d be gone before you could even ask him to stay the night. And let’s be honest you wanted him to stay the night. To feel him pressed against you, his broad chest against your back, his breath fanning over the back of your neck. God, you yearned for that man. Or maybe just a man, it’d been a while.

You weren’t entirely wrong though, you did get the best fuck of your life out of him, but you also found the Javier that was sprawled in your bed, a lit cigarette between his lips, wasn’t the same man he was in the daylight of the office.

He was quieter, soft spoken, almost open.

The first few times he had stayed for a bit after to lay pressed beside you talking about work and you had even managed to pull a few details about his life back home. A few. But those few details only left you craving more, and who could blame you. He was intoxicating. You hadn’t been expecting it and now that you saw it, you wanted more.

“You know, you’re different like this.”

You had practically whispered the words to him, a little scared you might somehow push him back into the person he was in the light of day. But he only offered you something almost like a smile and leaned forward to press his lips to yours.

“I think, maybe i’m just different with you.”

He didn’t elaborate or say anything more, and you didn’t say anything in response. Cause what could you say? He’d pressed you open into the mattress a few minutes later his head between your thighs. Taking you apart slowly whispering filthy things as he brought you over the edge.

Your heart clenched as he laid his head on your thigh afterwards, his hair an unruly mess.

You wanted him like this all the time.

You weren’t naïve,though. So you didn’t think much of the way he laid beside you, or the things he said to you. He could feed any pretty woman words to make them feel special, and no matter how much you wanted to be different, something told you weren’t.

That became apparent when you started seeing less of Javier and hearing more about his informants and the other women he would bring home some nights. You weren’t mad, nor jealous, but you weren’t exactly fine either.

Coming home from a late night at work you had passed him and who you assumed was one of those said people that were whispered about. She was laughing at something, his arm locked tight around her waist guiding her down the hall. His face didn’t match hers but he certainly didn’t look unhappy, and when you crossed their path trying hurriedly to get into your apartment before seeing something you didn’t want to, he barely spared you a side glance.

Fine.

You stopped giving him the attention he silently would ask for in the daytime. His gaze burning hot on your body as you silently sipped your tea in the corner of the break room. Or the way he would brush your shoulder as he passed your desk. It’s almost laughable how he could seemingly seek your attention out one minute and then act like you didn’t exist the next. You didn’t play into it and things were fine.

Until they weren’t.

“You’re ignoring me, princesa.”

He’s got you cornered in the filing room his broad form practically towering over you. This is the closest you’ve been to him since you’d seen him that night, or the occasional time he would purposeful bump into you in the office.

“Hello Javi,” You barely managed to hold onto the papers in your hands. His close proximity to you slightly knocking you off center. You weren’t entirely lying when you said things were fine, but him being so close and the smell of him nearly overpowering was reminding you of the parts that were exactly not fine.

“I’m sorry i’ve been so busy.”

That’s a lie. You know it’s a lie, he knows it’s a lie. Things had been incredibly slow the past couple of weeks. Pablo in hiding from a recent raid that hit a little too close to home.

“I think we both know that’s a lie,”

And oh, is his voice a little breathier.

You curse yourself quietly, because you’re supposed to be putting this behind you. This man only sought you out when he felt like it when he was bored. But the way he’s pressed so close to you, if you just leaned forward a tiny bit. His eyes are skimming over your face, like he’s taking in the changes he’s missed in the past few weeks he hasn’t seen you.

There’s a tilt of his head and a small push forward and his lips are a near inch away from yours.

“Don’t you miss me, baby?”

Your knees nearly buckle.

He called you that exactly one time before. A rough raid with Carrillo had him stumbling into your apartment at nearly 1 am, luckily you had just gotten home from work and were still awake. His shirt was damp with sweat, the color of it slightly darker than the original pink, a stray mark of blood on his face- you later found out wasn’t his. He’d been needy, the way he had pressed you into the counter in your kitchen, fucked you within an inch of your life it felt like. Growling filthy things into your ear, praising you, before pulling you roughly to the floor(his back didn’t forgive him for days after that) and sliding you onto him. You’d rode him hard and fast nearly sobbing your release. He’d came up to cradle you to him. Whispering baby and your name reverently into your hair. You didn’t talk about it, what had made him so frantic. You had to practically peel yourself away from him and when you did it had broken the spell. He was up, fixing his jeans, kissing your forehead and then he was gone out the door before you could even get words out.

Javier whispering your name brings you back to the present, his eyes are locked on your lips and fuck-

Your fingers are dropping the papers and urgently sliding up his back to curl in his hair, pulling him the last bit of distance to bring his mouth to yours.

You’ll tell him later that you don’t forgive him for that debacle with the woman he brought home with him and you’ll also tell him the other things that have been pent up for the past almost month. And if he doesn’t like it oh well, but god right now all you want is to be fucked by this infuriating man.

“Javi-“

Your plea is broken as his tongue swipes the inside of your mouth his hands holding firmly to your hips.

“Javi please”

He shushes you, his leg coming to press between your thighs, right against where you want him the most and you nearly keen at the relief it gives. His thigh flexes and applies just the pressure to send your hips sliding forward.

“Quiet, princesa you don’t want anyone to hear,”

Oh fuck. You’re at work right now. You’re at work fuck. You’re at work. You remind yourself again.

One more time you’re at work-

But no one really comes back here. (that’s a lie)

His hands are guiding your hips roughly, and you’re practically riding his thigh. The feeling is too much and not enough all at once.

“Anything, Javi please.”

You’re breathless whimper has him growling under his breath as he pushes you deeper into the cabinets. His hands tear your skirt out of the way, pushing your panties aside before dipping his fingers into your center.

“Baby, fuck you’re so wet,”

His fingers leave you momentarily to slide into his mouth. The hum that leaves him is enough to push a wave of slick out of you, and you eagerly grip any part of him you can reach.

“Is this for me? You have missed me,”

The smug look on his face makes you want to roll your eyes, and you would if he wasn’t currently sliding his fingers back into you and curling them just like that-

“Fuck! Javi,”

The hand that is grasping your hips leaves to hurriedly slap a hand over your mouth. His eyes are burning into yours his teeth bared slightly.

“I said quiet, do you want our coworkers seeing how much a slut you are for me?”

He licks a line up the side of your neck before coming to suckle and bite lightly on your ear.

“Youd like it wouldn’t you?”

You’re practically dripping at his words, the squelching noise from his fingers fucking into you roughly is nearly obscene. You’re so close you could cry, if he could just give a little more.

“More,”

It’s a desperate plea for anything and it’s slightly muffled by his hand but he gets the message. His hand drops and you’re caught off guard by him roughly undoing his belt and pushing his pants down enough for his cock to spring free.

You nearly moan at the sight, long and thick with precum gathering at the tip. Fuck it’s been so long you want to taste. But he’s got you shoved back up against the nearest filing cabinet, his hand back over your mouth as he nudges his cock against your clit.

You keen at the slight pressure it gives before you jerk at the feeling of him sliding into you fully his hips flush to yours.

“Fuck, hermosa,” his teeth are clenched tight the cords of his neck strained as he whispers praises into your ear.

"Baby you’re so tight, missed you.”

You don’t even have time to process the last part before he’s almost urgently pulling out to slam back in. You want to worry about the noises that are being made but just as the thought comes in it’s gone. He’s fucking into you hard, his hand still covering your mouth tightly, trying hard to mask the moans that are escaping you. The slight jingle of his belt buckle as he roughly pounds into you shouldn’t be as erotic as it is. His head is pressed to your shoulder and you can feel the air from his mouth as he pants.

You’re so close you can practically feel yourself dripping down your thighs. One of your hands is curled tightly in his hair and the other snakes down your body to rub between your clit. Your breath is coming out harsh from your nose meeting the warm skin of his hand and god the thought of his hand over your mouth as he fucks you is so much you think you might come now.

But then his hand slips away and he’s sliding it in your hair to tilt your head back. Baring his teeth he gives one particularly hard thrust before demanding.

“Open.”

Immediately your mouth snaps open and he spits.

"Fucking swallow it."

You do, quickly before you lift eagerly to meet his mouth, teeth clinking harshly.

“Javi i’m gonna come-“

He’s pulling back, whispering urgently in your ear .

"Do it baby, do it now. Cum for me."

You’re pushing to meet his thrusts hurriedly chasing the orgasm you feel tightening in your stomach.

“I said now,” The harshness in his voice sends you reeling. You keen, a little too loudly to be in your office building, the thread snapping as you tumble over the edge. Your cunt clenching hard around him. Somewhere through the haze you feel Javier bite roughly into your shoulder and his cock jerk inside of you as he cums.

His hands are sliding around you to pull you into him his face meeting your neck as he pants, his cock softening inside of you. There’s a pleasant sounding hum from him as you card your fingers through his hair your nails scratching lazily at his scalp. The room is humid and sticky you suddenly come back to yourself, sinking down from your post orgasm high.

“Javier,”

The change in your voice has him pulling back to look at you before his eyes widen in understanding.

Yes, basking in the after sex glow isn’t the best idea at the moment.

“We can talk after work okay?”

There’s a nod from him before he’s sliding out of you with a hiss and tucking himself back into his jeans. And there’s a lot to talk about, he isn’t off the hook, and you’ve got to think it over because you know you have technically no right to even be upset.

You’re adjusting your skirt when you feel him cup your cheek.

“I really did miss you.”

Its said quietly, almost like it’s a secret.

And momentarily, you forget everything you need to be confused about with him.

"I missed you too."

[dreamylyfe-x]

Your trevor meta is making me realize how weird it is that the writers and cast were so insistent that mickey wasn't coming back, because I don't think theyve ever really known what to do with ian's story without him. They put him in these lukewarm relationships and tell us they're so much better and healthier, but then have ian straight up admit that he still loves mickey and nobody else has made him feel the same way. How do they set that up and then have him go back to trevor? They set up ian moving on with "I'm not that person anymore" and follow up with season 8. It's like okay...who he is now is gay Jesus? Lmao. He's always been the shows forgotten middle child and after they wrote mickey off "for good" they could have taken him in a million directions but they chose one so shitty it basically made cam leave lmao. Sometimes it feels like fan insistence kind of forced mickey back but in actuality, the seasons where he's gone just hammer home that he was always the inevitable end to ian's story. So bizarre how little the showrunners understand their own story sometimes.

Ok. I’m going to be a little more Doylist here than I usually am, because we’re talking about what the writers are thinking. And I’m also going to take this opportunity to share this fascinating article from the AV Club in 2016: When Fan Engagement Goes Wrong. Everyone beware, it contains significant spoilers for The 100. But it’s also largely about Gallavich, the fact that online promotion of Shameless leaned hard into the popularity of the couple, and were up against it when Noel left. I’ll quote: 

“[Supervising Producer Shelia] Callaghan’s choice to be honest and straightforward when engaging with fans is admirable, and yet also on some level futile. She can’t tell them exactly why Fisher chose to leave, she is (logically) unwilling to spoil future storylines outright, and she can only speak her own mind as part of a collaborative process over which she holds only some influence. So while many fans respect her effort to maintain the connection to this now marginalized community, others attack, reinforcing that attempting to manage these situations is a full-time job that no one has been properly trained for.” 

This article links some tweets and the one I find the most interesting is this one:

“But the actor left.  So...what to do? Have them just break up?? Felt way less true to me than a forced separation!” 

That tweet is from Krista Vernoff, who wanted to convey that they tried really hard to come up with what they do with Ian now that he’d lost Mickey. And I’m sure they did try really hard. And.... People hated it. Mostly. 

Here’s what I think, based on what I’ve read and the interviews I’ve seen, on deleted tweets and Tumblr rumours and YouTube clips: The show didn’t want Mickey to leave the canvas. At all. Noel wanted more money. The show could not come up with both that money and the money they needed for everyone else. The show let him go. And hoped they could solve the creative problem their budgetary problem had dumped in their lap. 

I actually think Ian’s story in season six is decent. I miss Mickey, of course. I find the last scene with him really painful -- but it’s not painful because the show is trying to diminish him. They write and then cut together a scene where Mickey is DEMONSTRATIVELY still deeply in love with Ian. He’s carved his name in his chest. He is looking at Ian like he’s the most beautiful creature ever given breath. And Ian can barely meet his gaze. They tell us Mickey is being sent away for 16 years but when we see the last of Mickey Milkovich in season six I think “God, this is so sad. They love each other so much and this is so fucked up.” 

I do NOT think “We are NEVER EVER EVER getting back together.” 

The show always knew what it had with Ian and Mickey. They leaned into it promotionally. They gave meaty storylines to the characters, particularly given that Ian was the fourth lead on a family dramedy built around six children. John Wells replaced Aaron Sorkin on The West Wing. He knows how hard it is to follow a phenomenon. 

The more I think about it, honestly? I don’t think they tried. I think they knew that they couldn’t bring in Mickey Milkovich, the sequel in season six, so they brought in Caleb. And maybe they meant for him to be a LITTLE more viable than he was... but I think there’s a pretty good chance they were just throwing something at the wall to see if it stuck, while being fully aware that the important storyline in season six was getting Ian from despair to a fulfilling career. Caleb was just there as a catalyst. 

Season seven if more interesting, because Trevor is brought on and it’s very much... “Hey, let’s do something new. Let’s bring on a transmasc character and put him into a relationship with Ian and explore those complications.” 

“Great! Put it up on the board!” 

“Also. Let’s call Noel Fisher’s people and see what we can work out because we can do better with Mickey’s send off and people are yelling at me on the street about it.” 

Quite honestly, these are not equal tasks for his writer’s room. You have one story -- Create a whole ass new character. The only thing we know is that he’s trans. Figure out the romance from there. You have six episodes to get them together as an established couple. 

Then: Bring back the well-established and beloved character for an epic romantic two-episode arc where he reunites with his true love and they run away together and then ultimately realize it cannot be, and say goodbye and it all feels like I Will Always Love You should be playing in the background. They actors worked together for five years. They have a great professional partnership. They like working together. They have a ton of history so there’s lots of juicy subtext. The longing and sexual tension comes pre-established. See what you can do. 

HOW do you make both those things work out so that they are equal? You need lightening to strike. And that already happened on How I Met Your Mother. They squandered their good luck and now there is none left for Shameless. I do not disparage Elliot Fletcher at all when I say that for Trevor and Ian to really work he’d have had to have come with scorching chemistry with Cam, rich material that really gave them a good opportunity to build rapport between the characters, and A wizard standing by to cast spells in the wings. They had SIX episodes, a pretty average connection between the actors, and the “these are the LGBTQ+ people in your neighbourhood” scene. 

I just can’t believe that someone with as many years of TV writing under his belt as John Wells has expected that to work. He hoped the Trevor story might be good, and was certainly going to break some ground in terms of telling trans stories. And the Mickey story was going to be the highlight, because he knew people wanted it and he also knew that they’d had something pretty special to start with. Which is why people were yelling at him at Comic-Con. I DO think he hoped it might placate fans a bit. But... he wasn’t going to completely close the door on Mickey this time, either. 

So... I don’t really think the show every intended to write Mickey off “for good”. I think they wrote him off “for now, and we’ll see what happens...” -- and they did that with Karen, Shelia, Jody, Steve and Fiona, too. They only brought a few of those people back... They brought Mickey back three times. They ended Gallavich FOUR times. Noel is in ever season except eight. I don’t think they wanted Mickey gone -- but I KNOW the fans also made it pretty hard for them not to know his value, so absolutely I think that played a role. But when you create something people love and you get that lightening in a bottle like they did with this story, I think writers are always going to be excited to get that back. They like praise! They like people to be excited about their show. And Gallavich was always one of the things that got people excited about Shameless. 

I think they also wanted Gay Jesus to be a great story. But that’s why the lightening in the bottle is so valuable. You can’t just get it anywhere. 

[dameronology]

love in the time of p.t.a meetings {marcus moreno} - 2/5

summary: your kid has taken a liking to marcus moreno - and frankly, so have you {series masterlist}

warnings: swearing, mentions of divorce & very brief mentions of his wife’s death 

i don’t normally update series this quickly but this was originally one imagine that reached about 11k words lmao so it’s all written, just being split up. i’ve also decided it’s gonna be 5 parts instead of 3, cos i reread the ending and realised i was not done by a longshot. enjoy!

- jazz

Mondays. You hated ‘em.

Everything just seemed so...amplified. The peace and relaxation of the weekend was over and everyone had to go back on the grind. The traffic always seemed worst, the clock seemed to tick backwards and you just wanted to be at home, in bed. After an incident involving the dog, a toaster and a small pan fire, you were already running twenty minutes late and you knew in your soul that your child’s shoes weren’t on the right feet. That, and also he was wearing a Chewbacca onesie to school. It had been a compromise. As in, he was refusing to go to school unless you let him wear the damn thing. It was a compromise. You’d lost. 

On the bright side, the past weekend had been the best you’d had in a long time. Jack had spent all of Saturday afternoon at the Heroics headquarters and he was so worn out, he’d slept through all of Sunday. Marcus Moreno must have a been a fucking wizard, because you’d been trying to tire the kid out for five years. You made a mental note to do something in return, though you sensed there was nothing on God’s green earth that could possibly amount to babysitting the world’s most exhausting child for six hours. You were allowed to say that, because Jack was your world’s most exhausting child and you wouldn’t have changed him for anything. 

‘New week, huh buddy?’ You glanced at Jack in your rear view mirror. He was sat on his booster seat, legs dangling back and forth and a power ranger action figure in his hand. ‘A fresh start.’

‘Can we listen to the song from Cars?’ Jack ignored your comment.

‘You gotta try and behave yourself this week. You’ve seen what happens to people who do follow the rules, right? They get to go work at the Heroics-’

‘- I wanna listen to the song from Cars!’

You wanted to have a deep conversation. Jack wanted to listen to Life Is A Highway. That was...actually, it was exactly how you’d expected that to go. It wasn’t that off of the time you were trying to explain your divorce to him and he’d interrupted you to demand that you put Toy Story on. 

‘Sure thing, kid.’ You rolled your eyes, reaching across to hand him on your phone. ‘D’you know how to spell it-’

Your sentence was cut off by the sound of guitars blaring from the speakers. At least he could work out Spotify.

By some miracle, you managed to make it the school with a few minutes to spare. Because most people had dropped their kids off earlier (see: on time), the lot was pretty empty. That meant you could once again dump your car without regard for the painted white lines -- who had time to park properly on a Monday morning? That was for people who had their shit together.

Leaping out the car, you almost cursed when you tripped over your heels. You didn’t have to wear them, but since you’d started working in a managerial role at your office, you figured it made you look a little more professional. And what was the harm in being a few inches taller? It made you feel powerful.

‘C’mon, J.’ You pulled open the back door, helping Jack leap out the car. 

‘You know, I’m starting to think you can’t park your car at all.’

‘Marcus!’ Jack practically flew out the car, his tiny body suddenly jolting with excitement. 

‘Morning, buddy.’ He replied; he then moved his brown eyes to gaze at you, offering a smile. ‘Hey.’

‘Hey, how you doing?’ You greeted him. ‘I don’t normally see you here in the mornings.’

‘Yeah, I normally drop Missy off at the front but it was one of those mornings, you know? She was taking a little more convincing than usual to go in.’

‘My kid is in a Wookiee onesie and backwards Thomas the Tank Engine shoes and you have the audacity to ask me if I know those mornings? I am those mornings.’ You replied.

Marcus chuckled. ‘I think it’s a look. I especially like the Lightning McQueen sunglasses.’

‘Do you have a super suit?’ Jack asked. ‘Can I try it on?’

‘C’mon, Jack. You’ve already managed to get a tour of the HQ.’ You ruffled his hair. ‘And we gotta get going to school.’

‘But I wanna ask more questions.’ He muttered. ‘I have over a hundred.’

‘Don’t I know it.’ You murmured under your breath. ‘But school is more important.’

‘I don’t wanna go anymore.’

‘I let you wear the onesie. That was our agreement, remember?’

‘All good superheroes have to get an education.’ Marcus reasoned. ‘And if you go in, maybe I can show you my suit at some point?’

'Okay!’ Jack grinned. He wrapped his arms around your waist in a quick hug, before peering up at you with a toothy smile. ‘See ya later!’

He turned on his heel and ripped his backpack from your hand, suddenly speeding up the path and towards school. Had...had that just happened? For once in your life, had you not had to wrench him from the car and wrestle him through the school gates? Move aside, Harry Potter, because Marcus Moreno was the new wizard in town. You might have been a little jealous that he was so good with your son but at the same time, it made you like him even more. He was the first parent at the school that had leant into Jack’s wild tendencies. And, whilst you tried not to think too much about it, even his own dad had struggled to do that. It made your heart warm a little. 

‘You are seriously my favourite person.’ You chimed, leaning back against your car. 

‘Kids with character are way more fun than kids who are well-behaved.’ Marcus replied.

‘I spent forty-five minutes scraping string cheese out the USB port of my computer yesterday, but sure.’ 

He chuckled. ‘No, I’m serious. I don’t encourage Missy to misbehave but she does get herself into some situations. I choose to see it as a testament to her intelligence rather than disobedience.’

‘I refuse to believe for a second that Missy ever misbehaves.’ You shot back back. ‘She seems so well-behaved.’

‘What you see in the parking lot is not a reflection of our whole lives.’ He reminded you.

‘Right, because despite appearances, I’m actually a very put together parent.’ You snorted. ‘But I get what you mean.’

‘I gotta get to work now, but it was good to see you.’ Marcus pulled his car keys out his pocket. ‘I was serious about that suit thing, by the way. He saw my katanas on Saturday.’

‘Katanas?’ You spluttered. ‘My kid managed to start a fire last week out of nothing and you want to give him katanas?!’

‘Maybe I can show you how to use them.’ He flashed you a smile. ‘And then you can pass on the knowledge.’ 

‘That’s probably an even worse idea.’ You shook your head with a laugh, pulling open your car door. ‘I’ll see you around.’

‘You as well. Have a good day, pretty lady.’

--

Did you stop thinking about your exchange at any point during the day? Absolutely not. In fact, you’d already written an email to the local deed poll office to change your legal name to Pretty Lady. 

No, but in all seriousness, you’d been a little giddy about it. Had he been flirting? That didn’t seem like a long shot. You got on well, you’d hung out a bit over the weekend and not to toot your own horn, but you were by no means bad looking. Tired and a little frazzled, sometimes? Yeah. But anyone would have been lucky to have you and you were doing a better job at recognising that, especially since your divorce. 

You were almost ecstatic when it got to 4PM and you hadn’t received a single call from Jack’s teachers. That meant that he had behaved, and what Marcus had said had worked. Because you worked past his finishing time, he usually went to the after-school club till you could come to collect him - it had been a lifesaver, especially since you couldn’t always leave early. He usually came home with some kind of weird arts and crafts. Last week, it had been an unidentifiable item made of dried macaroni and glitter. He’d placed it pridefully on the old fireplace in your lounge. 

After saying goodbye to your co-workers, you headed out the building. Your office was right in the city centre and not too far out from the school. It was a nice place to be; your lunch hour, when you could head out to a street cart and eat your food in the local park, was usually the highlight of your day. It was when you could exist just as you. When you were at work, you were in charge on your entire department. When you were home, you were a parent 24/7. That time to yourself was vital.

As you were heading to your car, your phone began to ring. Your heart almost jumped out your chest when you saw Marcus’ name - he hadn’t called you before, only texted to sort out the previous weekend’s plans with Jack. You quickly organised yourself (he couldn’t see you, dumb ass) and cleared your throat.

‘Hey, everything alright?’ You brightly greeted him.

‘Hey! Are you out of work now?’

‘Yeah, I’m literally just leaving. What’s up?’

‘Look, I hate to do this but I’ve had an emergency at work - superhero related, you don’t wanna know - and I’m not gonna be out for hours.’ Marcus sounded stressed. Yeah, I feel that you thought. ‘Would you be able to pick up Missy and possibly have her for a few hours? If not, that’s totally-’

‘- I’d be glad too!’ You interrupted him. ‘I owe you one anyways for the weekend. And this morning, actually.’

‘You don’t owe me anything.’ He sounded surprised that you’d even imply it. ‘But I will definitely owe you for having Missy.’

‘Hey, it’s cool!’ You insisted. ‘Do you want me to drop her off at yours later?’

‘I can come and collect her if you text me your address?’

‘Perfect.’ You smiled. ‘I’ll see you later then?’

‘You’re a lifesaver.’ Marcus said. ‘I’ll text Missy to let her know to find your car instead of mine. I would ask for your plate number, but your car is...’

‘...bright red, covered in dents and hard to miss?’ You finished his sentence.

‘Exactly.’

You’d been in the same situation before; pulled between work and parenting, with Jack stuck at school and an important meeting that felt like it was never ending. It was hard to get a sitter on such short notice - or afford one, sometimes - and it was just another one of the million, stressful situations that single parenting could get you into. If you could help Marcus even a little bit, of course you were going to. You knew he’d do the same for you. Heck, he had done the same for you.

Jack and Missy were both chatty on the way home. Given that she was a little older than him, her conversational skills were strikingly better. It was nice to ask someone about their day and not get where are my Cheetos? as an answer. From what you gathered, she hated science class, enjoyed gym, and her favourite subject was lunch. That didn’t come as a surprise to you - her dad was a literal superhero and probably encouraged physical activity.

(You’d seen his arms, okay? They were more than enough to go on. I digress).

The only thing that made you wish you’d had a little more notice on having her for the evening was the state of your apartment. The place wasn’t bad; you’d lived there for the better part of eight years, and it was crammed with soft furniture and millions of blankets, as well as photos of you and Jack and his questionable art projects. It was just that you hadn’t done the dishes that morning, there was a mountain of shoes by the door and the pancakes from the previous night were still stuck on the roof.

Missy barely blinked an eye; the minute she saw your dog, she’d abandoned her bag and was playing with him. 

‘Hey buddy!’ She grinned. ‘What’s he called?’

‘That’s Oppy.’ You replied, hanging your jacket up. She didn’t need to know that it was short for Optimus Prime. No guesses on whose idea that had been. 

‘He’s so cute!’ Missy continued. ‘I’ve been asking dad for a dog for ages but he won’t budge.’

For some reason, that surprised you a little. Marcus might have been the leader of a super-hero team and a public figure, but you could tell he would do anything for his daughter. You knew because it was the same for you with Jack. He might have ruled your whole life but you would have hung the damn stars in the sky for him if he asked 

‘They’re a lot of work.’ You reasoned. ‘I have to wake up every morning at 6AM to make sure he gets a walk. Then there’s the matter of-’

‘- mum! Optimus Prime pooped in the bathroom!’

‘The matter of that.’ You murmured under your breath.

The rest of the evening went pretty smoothly. You fed the kids some leftover takeaway and between the dog and Netflix, they were easily entertained. Jack seemed to take a liking to Missy, which was good because it meant he wanted to sit with her the entire time instead of bouncing off the walls. She had the same patience as her dad, especially when he asked her a million questions about superheroes. It took her twenty minutes to convince him that Batman wasn’t her uncle, and a further fifteen to make him believe that she hadn’t met Captain America. 

Jack had asked you a few times about whether or not he would get siblings. Of course, it would be different to any interactions with Missy because he would have been the oldest, but it did get you thinking. You were finally in a place where you were moving past your former relationship and healing from the wounds. Time wasn’t much of an issue either - you’d had Jack when you were young and barely out of college. You couldn’t possibly imagine having any more kids right now, not when it was just the two of you, but in the future? You’d never rule out meeting somebody new. If anything, you were hopeful. Your first relationship had been your only one, and it had ended badly. You wanted to experience love for what it actually was, and not what you thought it was supposed to be. 

Not long after 7PM, there was a knock on your door. By that point, both Missy and Jack had passed out on the sofa with Star Wars playing quietly in the background. It had been her idea to watch it - she had good taste. Marcus had clearly done a good job.

‘Hey!’ You greeted him as you pulled open the front door. ‘Come in quick, it’s fucking freezing out there.’

‘Thank you.’ Marcus came inside, dusting a few snow flakes out his hair. ‘Seriously, I can’t say it enough-’

‘- it’s fine!’ You shook your head, offering him a smile. ‘Missy’s been great. She’s really chatty and it was nice to have a coherent conversation with someone that isn’t about Paw Patrol. But was everything at the office okay?’

He was quiet for a minute. ‘Yeah. We uh, we lost someone. A hero.’

‘Shit, man. I’m sorry.’ Your voice fell quiet. ‘You wanna come in? You look like you could probably take a moment.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Of course! Missy and Jack are both asleep on the couch anyways.’ You pointed through to the living room. Marcus leant over to have a look, smiling slightly at the sight. 

‘Thank you. I’d appreciate that.’

He took a seat at the kitchen counter. Your old bar stools were a little old and wobbly, but Marcus didn’t seem to notice. If anything, he admired the place. It was cluttered as hell and filled with useless, old items - cook books you didn’t use, random magnets, assorted toys - but it was nice. His house always felt a little cold and clinical. He’d moved a lot over the course of Missy’s life and now that he was retired from the field, he’d sworn to her that their current house was going to be permanent. Whether or not it felt like home was another question entirely. 

‘I would offer you a drink but all I have is..’ you paused, opening the fridge. ‘Nesquik, vodka or apple juice.’

‘You know what? A Nesquik doesn’t sound too bad.’

‘I like your thinking, Moreno.’

After quickly fixing up the two drinks, you slid into the seat beside him and handed him one. You had never in a million years imagined a situation where Marcus Moreno would be in your kitchen drinking chocolate milk, but here we were. It had clearly been a long day for him and you had enough of those to last a lifetime, so you knew how it felt. Coming home after a day that had beat your ass into the ground and having to put on a brave face for your kids was difficult at best. 

‘Are you sure you’re okay?’ You gently asked.

‘Yeah, I’ll be okay - it just always fucks me up a bit.’ Marcus murmured quietly. ‘Hits a little too close to home.’

He wasn’t an idiot. He knew that you knew what had happened to his wife. You knew why he’d retired, and why he and Missy had moved away from their original city six years ago.

‘Sorry, that was too deep-’

‘- it wasn’t!’ You quickly cut him off. ‘I’ve had random women come up to me at pick up time and say they’re sorry to hear about my divorce. People I don’t even know. So really, after that, nothing is too much.’ 

He smiled slightly. ‘They always say they’re sorry but why would you bring up a subject if you have to apologise for it?’

‘Exactly!’ You replied. ‘Especially when I’ve moved on. It’s been a year.’

‘It’s the same with me. Missy and I miss her everyday but we don’t mope about it. We just...we look back with fondness on the good memories we have. You can’t move forward if you’re stuck in the past, no matter how much it sucks.’

‘That’s...that’s wise.’ You blinked in surprise. ‘S’pose that means I should take down the dartboard I have with my ex’s face on.’

‘From what I’ve heard, he seems like he should have more than a dart board.’ Marcus snorted - then he froze. ‘Wait, not that I’ve heard stuff, I mean...I don’t listen-’

‘- Marcus!’ You whacked his arm. ‘It’s fine. One of the other kid’s mums started telling me about the terrible divorce someone was going through but she realised she was gossiping to the one who was going through it.’

‘I don’t know how much of what I’ve been told is true, but it sounds like it was bad.’ His hand hovered over where yours was rested on the counter. 

‘The rumours pretty much get the gist of it.’ You replied. ‘But we were talking about your thing, so I don’t wanna take away from that.’

‘Hey, it’s okay.’ He finally moved his hand, fingers gently curling underneath yours to intertwine them. ‘If even half of the whispers are true, he sounds like an asshole. You and Jack both deserve better than that.’

Whatever people had said, it had sort of covered the gist of it. You’d married too young and had a kid too young - your ex had been a terrible husband and an even worst husband. He’d chastised Jack for being...well, being Jack. He’d stay out late with his friends, spend money on things neither of you needed and tried to make you take the blame for it all. After giving him a few too many chances, you’d finally reached breaking point and kicked him out. Filing for divorce and taking on being a single parent was single-handedly the hardest and bravest thing you’d ever had to do. In a way, you were glad you’d done it when Jack was still so young - he didn’t really understand any of it, even when you’d try to explain it in child friendly terms.

‘I think people judge me for it a little sometimes.’ You confessed. ‘They see me struggling but they know I made the choice to separate from him, like I brought it all on myself.’

‘That’s bullshit.’ Marcus plainly stated. ‘Parenthood isn’t a dependent thing based on whether or not you’re still married to the other parent. It’s unconditional and permanent.’

‘I should tell him that, but I also don’t want him back in our lives.’

‘I know it’s none of my business, but he doesn’t deserve Jack. He’s one of the best and brightest kids I’ve ever met.’

‘Thank you. I’m glad he doesn’t seem like a complete lunatic.’

‘He doesn’t deserve you either.’ Marcus continued. ‘Again, I might be out of place saying this but you are...you’re amazing. I was a wreck when I was suddenly on my own and you’re still holding everything together and working your ass off.’ 

‘You’ve noticed?’ You quirked an eyebrow.

‘Yeah, in passing.’ He admitted. ‘I remember I once saw you carrying three separate science projects at once and then Carol made a passing comment that you were on your own and...I just kinda admired you from afar.’

‘You, Marcus Moreno, admired me?’ You blinked at him in disbelief. ‘I find that hard to believe.’

‘I wish I’d had my shit together half as much as you did when I lost Missy’s mum.’ 

‘But the difference is you didn’t have a choice in your situation. I chose to boot his dad out-’

‘- you gotta stop discrediting yourself.’ He shook his head. ‘And stop blaming yourself. You did what was right for your kid and that is the most admirable thing of all.’

‘You really think so?’

‘I know so.’

The conversation slowly drizzled away, leaving you two to just look at each other. It was hard to tear yourself away from his brown eyes - there was a lot going on behind them. Fear, pain, anguish, admiration. He was one of the most mind-blowingly impressive people you’d ever met; single dad, superhero, electric car owner. He probably didn’t have a mortgage too and that was kinda hot. You were none of those things and yet, here he was, with you, managing to connect on a level that you never had with anyone. Both of your situations were tough, but they’d brought you together. 

Marcus Moreno was pretty fucking fearless (came with the job, you figured), and he wasn’t afraid to make the first move. He slowly inched his head forward and in return, you gravitated towards him. Your lips met halfway in a soft kiss, his hands moving to firmly hold your waist as he pulled you closer.

You almost stumbled out your chair with the movement, but his grip on your hips meant you didn’t slip. Instead, he placed you up on the counter, standing up as he did. It took you a moment to adjust to the position, but with your legs resting on either side of his, you could reach forward and lean on him. You had one hand tangled in his hair and the other on the back of his neck -  you’d surprised yourself with that. It had been months since you’d kissed anyone, but you weren’t as rusty as you thought. 

‘Oh my god, is the superhero gonna be my new dad?!’

Marcus suddenly jumped backwards at the sound of Jack’s voice. He was stood in the doorway, post-nap hair covered by a lopsided Chewbacca hood. His eyes were like dinner plates, even though he was grinning from ear to ear. 

‘Uh...’ you glanced between him and Marcus. ‘We were just...we were...’

‘I had something in my eye.’

‘He had something in his eye.’ You quickly agreed. ‘But now it’s out, so Marcus is gonna go home.’

He knew you didn’t mean it rudely - it was more of a desperation thing. The longer he stayed, the more questions Jack would come out with. Missy could have overheard too and that would have been twice as much to explain. So really, the sooner he got out, the better.

‘Yeah. I’ll uh, I’ll grab Missy.’ Marcus said, scratching the back of his head. ‘Thank you again for looking after her.’

‘You don’t need to keep thanking me.’ You shot back. 

He disappeared into the living room for a moment, reemerging with a sleeping Missy in his arms a moment later. Your eyes met again, and he gave you a soft smile.

‘I’ll call you.’

‘Yeah, sure.’  You nodded. ‘See you, Marcus.’

--

True to character, the next hour was spent being pelted with questions from your over-curious son. He didn’t shut up once when you were bathing him and he got even louder when you were reading him his best time story. On the bright side, you’d managed to get him to change out of his slightly manky Wookiee onesie and into a clean Buzz Lightyear one. Normally, you would have argued that he couldn’t live in pyjamas, but if it kept him quiet? It was a price you were willing to pay. 

‘Night, kiddo.’ You pressed a kiss to his forehead, switching on his nightlight. ‘Remember our deal, yeah? If I buy you a Happy Meal tomorrow, you won’t mention what you saw to any of your friends?’

‘You said library was bad.’

‘No, it’s bribery.’ You corrected him. ‘And do as I say, not as I do.’

‘Sounds bad, but okay.’ He sleepily murmured. ‘Night.’

‘Night.’ You stood up, flicking out his bedroom lights.

‘Wait, mum!’ Jack suddenly sat up, as though he’d remembered something. ‘You never said no.’

‘No to what, buddy?’

‘When I asked if the superhero was my new dad.’

Well, fuck. 

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