#also thanks again for the shaving scene

[chuluoyi]

fear

- gojo satoru x reader

his best friend’s defection is still a hard topic for him to swallow, and it leads into an unexpected argument that spurs you to leave, only to unlock a new fear in him when you get into an unfortunate accident afterwards.

genre/warnings: angst, gojo being mean, one scene with a worried nanami *wink*, injured reader, hurt/comfort, fluff in the end

notes: *sigh* my coping mechanism is still gojo’s past arc, which is why this piece takes place on that timeline. just a little context: reader is in the same class with nanami & haibara and was in the same mission that took haibara's life. this is probably the longest oneshot i've written so far sooo… enjoy! :)

general masterlist

A year and a half had passed since Suguru embarked on his path as a curse user. In that one year and a half, Satoru had finished his last year at Jujutsu High, and now was in the halls of his alma mater, speaking to the newly appointed headmaster who was none other than his teacher.

"You're applying to become a teacher?" Yaga asked again with a frown. He still couldn't wrap his head around it. Granted, he was his most troublesome pupil. "Why, Satoru?"

"If I said it's because I want to train young sorcerers to be strong, would you believe me?"

That was not a lie. It was actually 50% of his main reasons anyway. The other 50% was to repent what he missed with Suguru when he chose his dark path—his contempt with the current system of this jujutsu world.

"I would," Yaga responded gruffly. To him, Satoru was irritating, but he also knew that he was also extremely capable, and thus everything he did wasn't just out of nowhere. "But you still have to submit your applications. We can't make an exception even if you come from a prestigious clan."

"That's fine with me," he grinned. "Thanks, sensei."

On summer days, he'd get reminded of Suguru and silly things they had done together. Eating shaved ice, cycling together, driving either you, Shoko or Nanami mad. Satoru missed those days, it hadn't been the same ever since. Not knowing if his best friend was alright—if he was still alive at all—was exhausting.

Sometimes, he felt like he was the only one who was affected by his departure, the only one who stayed right where Suguru left him. Shoko didn't seem ruffled, if anything she just went to more bars and pachinko parlors as of late. Nanami was always a recluse, he never disclosed his feelings. You mourned him, but it was clear that most part of you would always be more focused on Haibara's death.

Satoru understood that he couldn't force anyone to feel what he felt, and he had no right to. But sometimes, he just wanted someone to connect with at his level. Someone to get him just like Suguru did.

And so when he got back to his condo that night—just right next to the one he rented for Megumi and Tsumiki, since he had moved out of his dorm—to find his girlfriend there with a big smile and a tray of cupcakes, unaware of everything and anything, he merely scoffed to himself.

"Satoru, you're back," you acknowledged, beaming like the sunshine you were. "I just baked these for the kids. Do you want some?"

Usually he'd smother you, throw some pickup lines here and there and say yes, but today, he just felt drained. "No." And with that, he stalked away to the bathroom, not glancing back at you.

It was wrong. But tonight he just wanted some peace and quiet, and so keeping his silence seemed to be the best choice as he didn't want to start a pointless argument with you. But you weren’t anything but observant, and definitely noticed that something was amiss with him.

"Are you... alright?" You approached him warily after he came out of the bathroom with wet hair. "Where were you today?"

"Just somewhere," he replied curtly. Afterwards he turned on the hairdryer, drowning the whole place with the noise even as you stood behind him with a visible question mark.

But you were still there after he dried his hair. "Is something bothering you?" you asked with a tilt of your head, concerned. By all means, you mean well. You just wanted to know if he could use your help at all.

When you pulled that expression, he couldn't help feeling annoyed, like he wanted you to take a hint, but you just didn't. "If you know, then just shut it."

It was probably the first time since the two of you got together that Satoru actually said something harsh. But you still tried to be reasonable though, bless you.

"Satoru, I don't know what got into your nerves like this, but I think sleeping through it might help. Have a rest."

"Why are you talking as if you know it?" he snapped, finally turning to you with his cold gaze. "You might not know anything, so don't be a know-it-all. Just mind your own business."

Now you were frustrated with his reply. "Once again, I don't know what happened to you. But if you're taking it out on me because I'm the closest you have—"

"Who said that?" Satoru didn't know where he got all this venom from. It was just at the forefront of his mind and he just got the urge to spew it. "You're considering yourself closest to me? Where did you get that big head from?"

You were aghast, and you blinked a few times to get your bearings. "Let me guess, it's about Geto-san, isn't it? Or the higher ups. Either of that must be what causing you to blindly place your anger on me."

"So what if it was? It isn't like you'll understand anyway."

"Satoru," you started, trying to even your breathing. "What happened to Geto-san isn't your fault. I've been telling you this. It can't be helped—"

"Can't be helped?" he jeered. "Do you know why it has come to this?" his tone took a dangerous edge as he stepped closer. He reached for you, grasping your wrist.

"Maybe because I was too blind back then. If it weren't for you—if only I didn't spend that much time on you, maybe he would still be here."

Did he just say that? Did he just imply that he had regretted the two of you getting together?

You felt your lower lip start to tremble and something seemed to obscure and blur your vision, making it hard to see him clearly. "You... don't mean that."

"Really?" the corner of his lips curled into a disparaging smile. "You never know. Before you know it, this can be over already. After all, I could have anyone out there that I want. Maybe someone less nosey than—”

That did it. You wrenched your arm out of his grip violently, as your first tear fell. His smirk vanished too, replaced with a total stillness to cover his sudden panic that was followed by a sudden sinking feeling at the pit of his stomach.

"You selfish, self-obsessed jerk," you hissed through watery eyes. He was taken aback, even amidst your anger and possible fear of him, your still managed to throw daggers at him. "Fine. You have it. I'll see myself out."

Satoru never wanted you to leave. Honestly, he would've made you stay. But he wasn't in the right state of mind and it was too late to take back what he said. He didn't want to mess this up even further.

You left the cupcakes, even throwing it away just to spite him. Driven by pain and humiliation, you choked back your sob and didn't spare a glance at him as you shut the door.

Peace and quiet. There he had it, he thought as he clenched his fists, at the cost of everything else.

Leaving that condo, every step you took felt like needles piercing your shattered heart. You wiped your tears roughly. No, you refused to cry over such asshole. He made it clear, didn't he? Whatever it was that you two shared, it was at the cost of his best friend leaving him. So now the blame was on you.

If you were thinking clearly, you would've understood that his words were likely a result of his own pent-up pain and frustration that he had kept to himself for some while. But you had no patience for that or even pinpoint what you felt right now—anger, disappointment or dread, or perhaps all three. You just felt wrongly accused.

Your feet brought you back to your dorm in the school. Now it wasn't as bustling as it once were. After Satoru and Shoko's graduation, you didn't really get close to anyone. There was Ichiji, but he treated you more like a mentor rather than a classmate.

As you sank into the comforts of your bed, You replayed the events, trying to find where it went wrong—and found nothing. After all, you had already said all that could be said. It wasn't just him who lost Geto, but you, Shoko and Nanami did too, but it was more convenient for Satoru to blame everyone else rather than trying to understand that they too shared this pain.

Nevertheless, you were disappointed. You didn't expect half of what he spouted, and it got you doubting everything you had.

"You've royally fucked up."

Satoru exhaled, glaring at Shoko through the corner of his eyes. "Yeah, maybe."

The reverse cursed technique user threw him a blank stare, taking in everything from his disheveled hair to his wrinkled trousers. "Gojo, as much as I can’t care less about your sorry ass, I'm saying this not out of concern for you, but rather for Y/N. You are an asshole."

The puff of smoke she blew expanded to create a cloud-like shape. "Yaga-sensei was our teacher. His student is now a mass murderer and wanted dead. Can you even imagine how he feels? And I can't believe I'm saying this—but weren't there three of us?"

A week had gone by and instead of doing the right thing like trying to get into your good graces, Satoru was in Shoko's infirmary in the headquarters instead. He didn't exactly know what he was looking for by going here. Maybe some lingering taste of his happier student days, and Shoko was the only one remaining.

Three of us, huh... she was right. That was precisely why he came here after all.

"You're just sulking because it seems no one cares about your best friend being the best there is. But have you thought about how our juniors also lost Haibara? Right in front of their eyes? Haibara was our friend too."

He was wrong, of course he was. Satoru realized that now. But it felt wrong to ask for your forgiveness now, not to mention the disrupting thought he had—should he let you go for good altogether?

The phone suddenly rang with such fervor that made Shoko utter a swear word. She was on call duty for the rescue team today, and it was supposedly a peaceful day until Satoru decided to barge in to become her company. "Hello? Ichiji? What—speak clearly, I can't hear you."

She switched it to loudspeaker. "...iri-san! Ieiri-san—h-help—please—"

It was noisy, and blaring at the same time, and Ichiji was... Sobbing? Choking? His voice was terribly muffled and—

"L/N-san!" he cried, and Satoru remembered at that moment that you should be in a mission with Ichiji, he remembered you telling him before.

"Hic—s-she fell... hic—she fell! B-blood! She i-is bleeding so much! I-Ieiri-san—hic—s-send help! Please!"

"Hey, stay awake. Breathe. Just breathe."

Everything hurt. Most notably, your head. You could hardly think straight when all you felt was blinding pain and how your breaths came in short wheezes. 

Your vision was blurry. The numbness had started to set in and chills ran up and down your spine. You couldn't make out who in front of you was. Was it Ichiji, who went with you in this mission? The only thing that glared was blue.

"You can't sleep, you hear me?" the voice was commanding, willing you to do his bidding. It was familiar, but usually his tone of voice was much lighter, happier.

Satoru.

But why was he here? He wasn't in this mission. It was supposed to be a mission for you and Ichiji.

You remembered getting the cursed spirit after manifesting your domain expansion, until in its last ditch attempt, it went after Ichiji. You had no choice—even when your cursed energy had burned out, you still shoved him away at the cost of being flung from the top of a building.

Not again. Not after Haibara. You’d gladly pay the price if it meant you didn't have to see anyone die in front of you again.

"I..." You managed to croak out—breathing hurt, and you felt your hands being grasped tightly.

"Hey, just breathe. Y/N. Look at me.” Through your blurry haze, you focused on that cold blue, and you saw him. Satoru's sharp eyes, pursed lips and frown. He's really here.

Satoru always said that if there was a cursed spirit apocalypse, then Ichiji would be the first to die. You used to scold him for that, but now as you a laid here possibly dying in your own pool of blood, you found it to be true.

Yet at the same time you knew that with him here, Ichiji must be safe already, and it gave you reassurance so great even when you were on the verge of dying. "I... can't..."

"Yes, you can. Just look at me," he firmly rebuked, his voice came out in a hiss. For all the time you had been with him, you had never heard him so forceful. "If you close your eyes now, I won't forgive you. So please, just hang in there."

It was a struggle to take in any air and darkness encroached on your vision as your consciousness began slipping away.

And everything faded to nothingness.

Satoru honestly thought he had no fears. His worst fear had fully realized after all—Suguru going away into the darkness. What more could he possibly fear?

But when he heard Ichiji's distress call for rescue team, about how you fell from a rooftop of a building and unconscious, he realized that it was a fear he didn't know existed. His mind got disoriented and he teleported to the scene on impulse. He just had to see it for himself. With their petty argument still lacking closure, he felt even worse.

And the sight before him gave him so much fright he never thought was possible.

It was a mistake, he should have brought Shoko along.

You had laid there like a broken doll, your eyes dimmed, and not been able to breathe. He desperately tried to keep you awake, his presence beside you, yet it didn't seem to matter. He watched helplessly as you passed out in his arms.

Satoru felt nothing. The panic that had set in was suddenly gone as your limp body slumped against him, replaced by incessant ringing in his ears and tremor wracking his nervous system. It wasn't long until the rescue team came to retrieve you and even then he still felt numb. He rejected the idea that you might possibly die on him.

That went on until Shoko, who assisted in the emergency treatment, came out of the surgery, sweat on her forehead.

"It's even worse than the aftermath of the guardian deity mission last year," Shoko explained with a grim expression. "Her brain has sustained damage and it affects everything. It may take her quite a while before she can go back to the field."

When she said that, Satoru felt terror washed over him again. You almost died—was all he perceived.

The two of you had no contact for a week just because of his ego. He could still recall that day with vivid clarity, feeling a burning ache in his chest. If someone were to ask him what heartbreak was like, now he certainly would he able the to tell them the two instances in which he experienced them. What he felt now mirrored the same stinging sensation he had felt when Suguru left him.

He visited you when he was allowed to, and you were still unconscious, with many machines connected to your body. It was a sight he still couldn’t bring himself to get used to. He had seen you injured before, but never seen you in your own pool of blood, so this made him feel sick to his stomach.

"Stupid," he whispered, gently rubbing your forehead. His eyes remained fixated on you as you rested, his insides still churning with emotions. "You're not weak, and you're not hopeless." Once upon a time, Satoru might have thought of you as weak, but now he knew better.

"So why you always pick the worst decision?" The more he thought this could've been avoided, the more irked he was. The thought that he could have done something to prevent it intensified the sting of guilt, and he continued to punish himself with it.

And the more he dwelled on the idea that he had hurt you prior to this, the tighter his breath became.

But that was who you were. Self-sacrificing to a fault. And he loved you for that. There was no way of him letting you go now.

It astonished even himself—that he was capable of this love thing. At first it was an attraction, but now that you had been going on for more than a year, it felt like it was no longer a silly infatuation after all.

"Hurry and wake up, will you?" Satoru gently brushed your hair aside, his eyes fixed on you. He didn't know it even as his gut twisted, his frown deepened and his touch quivered, that he was worried sick. "I have a lot to make up for."

And he left you with a tender brush of his lips against your forehead.

Nanami Kento was the first person you saw when you awoke from coma.

You struggled to regain your senses, still feeling absolutely broken. The dull throb on the back of your head was still there, and as if you had found yourself trapped in a fog, you were only able to move sluggishly.

"You're awake?" his gruff voice greeted, laced with concern. In his hand were a bucket of fresh flowers and fruits basket, which he soon placed at the table next to your bed.

It was unexpected, because ever since the tragedy that costed Haibara's life, the two of you had been drifting apart.

You nodded, and let out a hum in response—all you could manage at the moment.

"Thank God." Nanami sounded relieved as he pinched the bridge between his eyes, and you were moved that he had shown this degree of concern.

Your remaining classmate, who suffered the burden of Haibara's life just like you. He was always quiet or brooding somewhere, hiding his own feelings.

You felt tears pricking the corner of your eyes. The fact that he visited you meant that he hadn't decided to cut you out of his life yet.

"Gojo-san is out today, but he'll be back by afternoon," he said, mistranslating your tears as some sort of a want to have your annoying—ex?—boyfriend at your side.

The two of you were still not on talking terms, weren’t you?

You so badly wanted to say thank you to him—and tell him that no, you weren't looking for Satoru—but it came out hoarse and barely above a whisper.

"Huh?" Nanami then realized what you were trying to say, and a faint smile graced his lips. "Just... get well soon, L/N. Have a good rest."

Just before you drifted back to sleep, you could hear him sigh and mutter, "Hello, Gojo-san? L/N has awakened. Just letting you know is all.”

You weren't sure how much time had passed when you woke up the second time, but the curtains were already drawn and only darkness came from the window. Your body felt lighter, but you still felt like a mess and and couldn't help but groan in discomfort.

Satoru was there, he perked up at the noise you made. And you realized that it was the first time in about a week that he faced you after that disasterous almost-breakup.

He walked up to you, his expression was more hopeful than you had ever seen him before, like a kid whose wish had been granted. He slowly shifted to sit beside you.

"Hey, welcome back." His voice was soft. It was a change of pace for him, as you were used to seeing him all loud and silly.

Now your voice no longer sounds like a lead. "Hey."

"How are you feeling?" he asked and you took a moment to look at him. He was smiling, but exhaustion reached his bright eyes, dimming them. "You know, with the whole you passing out and almost dying thing?"

His words were almost humorous as he spoke, like he didn't know what else to say except try to lighten the mood, but there was also a strain on his tone, like he was holding back.

"I'm quite fine now, I suppose..." You still felt the lingering pain and dizziness as you slowly sat up. Satoru reached out to steady you—and you realized how his fingers trembled when they made contact with your body—as his brows furrowed with worry when you winced.

"You don't look like it though." His voice dropped and the humor was gone, replaced by this haunted look. You blinked. It was probably the first time you had seem him this ruffled.

He immediately pulled you into a hug, cradling your head to his neck gently, as if to protect and shield you from the world altogether. Exhaling heavily, he leaned on you. "You scared me, you know that?"

You wondered out loud if you really had that hold over him. "Did I?"

"You can't do that to me, you hear?" Satoru stroked your hair, nuzzling his face on the crook of your neck. His voice quivered. “Don't ever do that again.”

He pulled you tighter against him, but still careful not to crush you.

You let out a snicker, letting go of everything you felt during this horrible week. "Heh, afraid to lose me, huh?"

"Shut up,” he grumbled. “What were you thinking anyway? How did you calculate that freefalling is better than letting that cursed spirit attack Ichiji?”

"He was defenseless. He could die, you know that."

"And you also can," he quipped, upset, pulling away enough to look you squarely in the eyes, his eyes devoid of any expression, yet filled with a raging wave that you could only interpret as undiluted concern.

The emphasis in his tone made you recoil and feel guilty. If you were in his shoes, you probably would've said the same thing and so you had nothing to say to that.

But the more pressing agenda in the list was the unspoken silent treatment the two of you saw fit to use against each other for the last few days. Satoru was the one who decided to address it first.

"About that night..." he faltered, looking away. "I didn't mean what I said. I'm sorry."

Satoru always had trouble processing emotions. This time too. He must've a hard time dealing with the anxiety caused by the possibility of him losing you for good, no matter how much he tried to be unaware of it.

"..." You wanted to respond, to make him understand your point, but somehow right now you were just too weary. And he sensed your reluctance. So you blurted the first thing that gnawed at your mind.

“You said you could have any other women out there—”

"No, really—" he started to panic, and it was blatantly too, which surprised you. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Us. I don't regret anything. I’m not breaking up with you. Being with you is the happiest I've been ever since Suguru left."

“That's...” you blinked, before letting out a small sigh. “Okay. Fine then. Let's just put it behind us for now.”

“I—” he almost wheezed, his bright blue eyes were overtaken with sheer urgency to explain how wrong everything had been that night. “You must know that I didn’t mean any of it. And that I hate hurting you the way I did. I won’t—”

"Satoru, I understand," you let out another sigh, fidgeting with your fingers. "Sometimes when I’m reminded of Haibara, I also get sad. I don't want to presume but I think I know how you feel. Just next time, maybe," you shifted your gaze on him, seeing how you had his attention fully. Gojo Satoru, the strongest now, was looking at you as if you had his fate in your hands. "Just tell me if you need space and I would have understood."

"Yeah, okay, sure," he responded immediately, relieved, before a lopsided grin appeared on his face, turning him back into your dork slash boyfriend. "So, am I forgiven now?"

"A thank you would be nice."

In the end, he chuckled, seemingly resigned. "You should sleep more."

He positioned himself into bed next to you, and you let him pull you into his chest again. You could feel how his taut back started to relax upon the contact. He pressed his lips on your forehead in a fleeting kiss.

"Promise me you won't pull that stunt again.”

You smirked. "I can't. What if Ichiji—"

"Then just let him die."

You swatted his arm playfully, pressing your head to his chest as he continued to run his fingers on your hair. He cushioned you carefully, and you felt the tension in him slowly melt away with each breath you took. In your mind, you figured he needed this closeness more than you did, if anything, for the sake of his sanity.

“I love you,” he whispered by your ear, kissing it lightly.

“Mmhm.”

As you felt Satoru's calming presence, it helped ease you into slumber. You soon found yourself in a deep sleep, comfortably held in his embrace.

Epilogue

Ichiji gulped as Satoru stared him down, sizing him up as if he was the most despicable creature on this planet.

Okay, he might be. He was a coward, all he could do was trembling in the face of evil. But he had come in peace, even bringing fruits as an offering! He felt bad too that he was the partial cause for you to be this injured.

He was used to Satoru terrorizing him—calling him names, slapping him, and whatnot—and he could take it. Just this time, he really looked like he could murder him on the spot if he wanted to. A small part of Ichiji mourned that you were his girlfriend, because that pretty much sealed his fate that Gojo Satoru could indeed murder him on the spot because he had a valid enough reason to.

"You are—"

"No! I'm sorry, Gojo-san! I'm sorry for my incompetence!"

"Hah?"

If he was mildly irked before, now Satoru was visibly irritated.

"You're not cut out to be a jujutsu sorcerer," he started. "You're useless. You just get in the way most of the time."

Ichiji kept his head down. No, no. He can't cry!

"Get your driving license or I'll slap the shit out of you."

"Oh?" and before he knew it, Satoru had stalked away, leaving him in the dust. How rude! But...

Get a driver license? Quit the jujutsu work?

Hey, that sounds like something I can do!

[mikkomacko]

Thank u for doing requests ! What about giiving kisses on mob boss Nico’s scars (if any)?🥹🥹

This is so sweet oh my god I’m gonna cry. (This also somehow turned into a smut scene at the end so happy first smut scene of mob boss Nico!)

Thank you so much for requesting! I hope I did it justice!

————————————————————————-

It wasn’t a big dead, not really. Just an off-handed remark Jack had made after Nico chirped him for getting a bad haircut.

“You should spend more time worrying about that lip of yours than my haircut.” He’d yapped, motioning to the recently split lip Nico had gotten. “Eventually your girl’s not gonna wanna kiss it better.”

It had healed just fine and yeah for a bit there you’d avoided the raw wound, but now that it’s just a sliver of a scar it’s fine, right?

Nico can’t help it. He’s picking at it, smears of shaving cream still splattered across his jaw and cheeks. He picks at it until the skin of his lip is red and raw, and it hurts so badly he has to stop.

In a frantic spiral he’s suddenly spotting all the little marks on his face. Every scar left over from teenage acne to fist fights to hitting his head on the coffee table as a child, Nico feels manic as he takes them all in.

Maybe he shouldn’t have shaved. Maybe he should’ve let his beard grow out, creep up his cheeks and down his neck to hide all the ugly marks.

Down and down and down the rabbit hole he goes. Wiping the shaving cream off with a towel, Nico spots the ugly mark on his collar bone from where he’d been nicked with a knife. The one on his abdomen from where he’d been kicked with steel toe boots.

Something ugly and ashamed rises in his chest, threatens to choke him. He scrambles out of the bathroom, haphazardly shutting off the light as he rushes to the closet. In his haste to cover himself he misses you already lying in bed. It’s not until he’s yanked on a hoodie and sweatpants, finally able to breathe easy, does he notice you watching him with bewilderment.

“You ok boss?” You ask him, slightly amused.

Nico runs a hand through his hair, feels like throwing up. What if you saw all of them? Like really saw them? Sat in front of him and saw all those ugly spots at once, all his ugly spots?

“Fine,” he mumbles, climbing into his side of bed. He feels stiff and awkward, ignoring your gaze as he reaches to shut off the bedside lamp.

You make a confused noise in the dark and Nico blinks until his eyes adjust. Then he’s lying back on the pillows, staring up at the ceiling. His fingers ache to reach for you, to touch your skin. But he’s terrified of you touching his skin and suddenly deciding you don’t want to anymore.

Stupid fucking Jack and his big mouth.

The sheets shuffle, the mattress moving with your weight. “Nico?” A hand pats down the duvet, then slithers across the blanket until it’s resting over his chest.

“Hm?”

“Baby you’re on the edge of the bed.”

“M’just hot.”

“Maybe it’s the winter clothes you just put on?”

Nico hesitates, scrambles for an excuse. “Not feeling well either. Don’t want to get you sick.”

“You ate three plates of pasta, Schoa. I don’t think that’s contagious.”

Clearing his throat, Nico pathetically shrugs. Something’s welled up in his esophagus, is choking him and he wants you to reach over and make it better.

“Do you want to tell me what’s wrong or am I gonna have to piss you off first?”

He closes his eyes, feels the weight of your hand on him. That feeling chokes him again, makes him panic until he’s spiting out his worst fears to you.

“Do you still want to kiss me?”

Nico expects you to laugh, to kick at his leg and tell him he’s being ridiculous. But he thinks the pathetic whimper of his words has given away how dire this topic is to him.

“Oh baby,” you breathe out, “I want to kiss you all the time.” You sound sincere, like you’re thinking about kissing him right now. It makes his face hot, embarrassed and insecure for some reason.

His silence is thick, hanging in the air so heavily you have to sit up in bed and crawl over him. Nico can’t help it, his hands moving on their own to find your hips as you push the blankets back and straddle his thighs.

“Nothing could ever make me not want you.” You whisper. In the dark he finds your eyes, the moonlight coming through the window gleaming in them. They look shiny and blurry, warped by the night- no by him. Because he’s got tears in his waterline.

“You didn’t want to kiss my lip,” he mumbles like a child, “when it was hurt.”

You stroke through his hair, press your palm to his cheek. “Because I didn’t want to hurt you, not because I didn’t want to kiss you.”

“What if next time it’s worse? What if the cut is bigger and then the scar is and it doesn’t get better?”

“What-Nico where is this coming from? Did something happen?”

He’s silent, embarrassed again. “Jack said if my scars get any worse you won’t want to kiss them better anymore.”

“Oh Nico baby,” you huff in disbelief. “Have you ever noticed that Jack doesn’t even have someone to kiss his scars better? Who does he think he is?”

You’re right, but he doesn’t feel better. So he just shrugs, makes some weird noise of protest in his chest because he’s scared and hurt.

“Can I please turn the light on?”

Nico leans into your palm, heart thumping loudly in his chest but he mutters his consent. The lamp flicks on and at first he’s blinded. But then you come into view, one of his shirts on your shoulders and you’re pretty hair frizzy on top of your head.

You look so beautiful over him.

“Oh my god, what has Jack done to you?” You ask softly, stroking your thumb under his droopy eyes that are still wet with unshed tears.

“I don’t know,” he mumbles.

Your fingers trace his face, over the soft skin of his freshly shaved cheeks and the slope of his nose. Your thumb outlines his lips, your eyes following its movement with such adoration in them it makes his heart ache.

“You are the most beautiful man I have ever seen,” you say with earnest, stroking the scar on his lip. “No cut or bruise or scar is ever going to change that.”

“Yeah?”

You lean down, ghost your lips over his. “Yeah Nico,” you promise, sealing it with a kiss. He runs his hands up your back, holds you as you trail kisses over the little marks of his face.

Nimble fingers dip beneath his hoodie, touch the warm skin of his stomach. “Can I take this off my love?”

Sluggish, Nico nods. He sits up enough to help you wiggle it off of him, falling back into the pillows as you throw the hoodie to the side.

You sit back, admiring the skin of his chest and abs with your hands and lidded eyes. “All I see when I look at you, is the brave and strong man that I love.”

Sliding down his body, you mouth at his collarbone with soft and needy lips. Nico sighs contently, lets your breath tickle his skin and grows warm at the way you touch him so sweetly.

Sometimes he wonders how you can treat him so softly, how you can take him in those soft hands and turn him into a puddle.

“Baby,” he whines, unsure of what he’s even calling for. All he knows is that he loves you and you’re making him feel so good.

“Let me love on you,” you request, word pressing into the column of his throat. “Let me show you how beautiful and sexy you are Nico.”

He tangles his fingers in your hair, shudders as pleasure nips at his belly and blood rushes to his cock.

“Fuck, yes, please.”

You’re slow and diligent, finding any and every place on him that is marred or changed and showering it in kisses and loving touches. He’s sweating and panting when you get to the edge of his pants, peeling the band down to reveal more and more of the scar there.

“This one’s my favorite,” you say so quietly he almost doesn’t hear you.

“Huh?”

He lifts his head, brain foggy with lust. You peer up at him through thick eyelashes, blinking sultry over the planes of his body. Lips hovering over the mark that trails down the v of his hips and the top of his thigh.

“My favorite,” you mumble into his skin, kissing at the point of his hip. Then you’re pulling his sweats down even more, innocent eyes watching him hiss when his cock jumps free, red and hard against his abdomen.

“Why?”

Your lips curl up, wicked as you bite into the inside of his thigh just enough to make him twitch. “Because I get to see it every time I’m down here.”

Nico’s brain short circuits, shuts down when you bite into his skin again and it feels so good he might come untouched. He doesn’t want to though, not that he needs to tell you that.

You nose at his cock, mouth wet and hot against the base of him and his bones turn to jelly. He falls back into the mattress, widening his legs for you to get closer.

Grounding himself with fingers in your hair, Nico whimpers when you drag the flat of your tongue up his length, gentle fingers wrapping around his girth.

“Baby,” Nico whines again, and you’re already kissing at the thick head of his cock, all teasing flicks of the tongue and lips sticky with precum.

“I know pretty boy,” you assure, sweet and loving. Nico moans, ears growing hot at the pet name. “So pretty, from those big eyes of yours all the way down to your pretty cock, huh?”

His hips buck up, eyes rolling back and he twitches in your hand. Jesus Christ, now he knows why you love when he talks you through sex. The rawness of your words, the truth in your tone, how utterly sweet you sound saying such filthy things.

“Make me cum,” he begs, tugging on your hair encouragingly. “Please just -fuck!”

You swallow him down easy, fitting his cock into your warm mouth just how he taught you. Like it’s habit now, to have his cock dripping into the back of your throat while your tongue licks at the underside of him.

Nico’s so worked up and sensitive he’s already throbbing and threatening to blow his load. That fire licks at the base of his spine, curls his toes and has him blubbering nonsense. You bob your head, drooling down his length and cupping his balls in your palm.

You’re so soft and warm, so loving in everything you do. Nico thinks it might kill him one day, how much you love him. But that would be a hell of a way to go.

His cock throbs, twitching in the hollow of your cheeks and you stroke a free hand over that favorite scar of yours. That’s at it takes and he’s seeing stars, coming so hard on your tongue it twists painfully at the pit of his stomach.

Dropping his hands from you, heavy like his bones are made of lead, Nico fights to catch his breath. Your merciful on him, easy and gentle as you kiss your way back up his torso and to his mouth.

Nico doesn’t peel his eyes open until you’re messily mouthing at his parted lips. Your tongue tastes like him, breath hot and he groans into your mouth as he kisses you back.

“I lied,” you pant when you part from the kiss. “This one’s my favorite actually,” and your pecking a kiss to the scar on his lips.

“Baby you just sucked the soul out of me,” Nico croaks, wrapping his arms around you and pinning you into his sweaty chest. “I can’t take anymore compliments.”

You giggle, touching your nose to his. “It’s the truth this time, I love that one. It’s the first thing I see every morning, the first thing I see after you kiss me.”

Nico hums, smacks a kiss to the corner of your lips. “Yeah? Do you think that’s pretty too?” He goads, smirking when you blush and roll your eyes. “Pretty like my cock? Or pretty like my eyes?”

Laughing, you wiggle in his hold to try and get away. “Oh shut up!”

“Noooo keep telling me how pretty I am, boss please?”

[anadiasmount]

moment of your life - jude bellingham.

quick sum: a girls night out. birthday. dinner. club. seeing jude unexpectedly after you over heard him say things that left you hurt and confused… but hey, maybe this could be the moment of your life…

WC: 6k

PSA 🗣️ inspired by song ‘moment of your life’ by brent faiyez ft. coco jones 🤭. the lyrics will be in italics and bolded! no warnings, just angsty at the start, jealous jude, but ends with a happy ending! insta au at end as well❣

You laughed loudly in disbelief as you saw your girlfriends walk through the door. You lazily got up from your bed into a seating position and smiled big when they appeared holding flowers, balloons, and a pink heart-shaped cake for your birthday. They sang Happy Birthday loudly, recording your reaction as they went and circled around your bed. You weren't expecting them, so your shocked reaction to them made them chuckle. 

You brushed your hair back and put your glasses on top of your head, from the studying you were doing for your communications class. “Make a wish, darling!” your best friend said, sitting next to you while holding the cake. There were many things you wished for but being here with them just made you feel so grateful and loved after the last couple of weeks. You closed your eyes in delight and blew the candles. 

Clapping your hands and thanking them, but that’s when you notice them being fully dressed up, short dresses or mini skirts, and or tight tops. “Uh-”

“We're going out to celebrate. So get up, take a shower, and we’ll do your hair and makeup. We bought you this midi dress, and you’ll wear it.”

There was no making remarks or opinions when your friend Ella spoke, she had a clear message and you had to hear it. But you just weren't up for going out, you’d rather just do something here with them since it was unexpected. Open that bottle of tequila and vodka, and drink your sorrows away till the next day. “Guys, I love you more than anything, but I really don’t want to… We can do something here-”

“No no no. We have reservations in two hours at this fancy restaurant downtown, so we can’t stay,” Ella spoke again, going over and grabbing your hand to pull you out of bed. She struggled since your feet were planted on the ground, only dragging and moving along when she tugged you towards the bathroom. “Shower. Go.” You huffed but did what she said, managing to quickly shave your legs and wash your hair. 

You moisturized your body with some lotion and did skincare to let the products sit before they did your makeup. Ella knocked on the door and passed you the black dress, it looked short, and it was slightly shorter than what you were used to, but it hugged and shaped your curves well, your legs looked tan and toned, your boobs perky and sat nicely. You went and also picked out the black stiletto heels, knowing the would define your legs even more, stepping out with them in your hand. 

Your friends gassed you up, complementing you, a warm blush spreading your cheeks. But, they still rushed you to sit down so they could get to work. You begged them for a natural look, not wanting anything that would sweat off if you guys decided to go clubbing, surprise surprise they listened. You did agree to some small dramatic lashes, which shaped your eyes with the brown eyeshadow. 

While they did that Ella, quickly blow-dried your hair, and gave you a small blowout, nothing too crazy but what went with you. Your friends attempted to re-act the scene from Princess Diaries which made everyone wheeze as you headed downstairs. Your jaw dropped and smiled widely as you saw the small decorations in the kitchen, along with the pink cake from before. 

“You guys! This is so cute!” you yelled out, going to hug each and everyone, seriously enjoying the princess treatment. “You deserve it all, darling! Hurry let's pre-game, and take some pics before we head out,” one of your friends said, all of them quickly agreeing. 

The ride to the restaurant went fully smooth, now currently seated in one of the prettiest restaurants you've been to. “Ella, listen I love you, but I'm not wearing that damn tiara…” you shut her down for the millionth time, making her roll her eyes. She sounded like your mom with her protest saying it was just for pictures, but all you had in mind was to eat. 

“Oh fuck…” you looked up from your menu and glanced around confused. But then you saw who exactly made your friend curse out loud. You hid behind the menu again, attempting to look discrete. But you felt the cold rush through your veins, the feeling of your stomach dropping at the sight of the familiar curls, and white smile. All you could do was nod when your friend asked if you were okay, and pretend like you were fine, but deep down, the last thing you wished for was to make sure he didn't see you at all. 

He was through your eye range, and you didn't hesitate to move when your friend offered to switch spots, your back facing him as you walked to the seat. Call you dramatic but you didn't care, you deserved to be happy on your birthday and that was the plan. It was quickly forgotten by them when the drinks arrived, you tried to distract yourself but your mind went back to him. 

Jude had been someone you were helping out to learn Spanish once he first moved to Madrid. Of course, who could deny his gentleman status, his attractive features in those times the two of you were together? Him acting cocky at times, the brush of hands when you passed him the papers, and the strong eye contact when you explained the attributes of the language. You felt a mass of butterflies around him, and it seemed like he did too when he confessed he felt the same way. 

You shared your first kiss, the rain tapping slightly against the window, the scented candles lighting the room when the light went out, the way he would quickly stare at your lips then back up at your eyes, had you clenching your legs shut. And when your lips finally brushed against his, there was no turning back, the passion, the small grunts and moans from the both of you, the way he tugged on your hair making you go crazy. The tight grip on your waist as your tongues fought for dominance. 

 After that, the two of you got closer than ever. The regular routine of coming over to help him with his Spanish lessons quickly turned into dates in your apartment. Making dinner, teaching him, then cuddling while watching movies. He never pushed for more, respecting any boundaries, which made you feel assured it was real. It felt right. You felt safe and sound, forgetting how cruel the world was to you when you were with him. Only him. He became someone that anytime you saw, you knew you didn't have to worry about anything. It was just the two of you. 

But that changed after a party, a party he insisted you go to since he claimed he wouldn't know how to communicate with anyone. After you stepped away to get a drink, you regretted coming. Those few minutes of agony turned to hours as you felt stupid and used, quickly leaving and didn't bother looking back. 

That was a month ago, and now you're here, looking at the waiter confused when a blue drink was brought to your table, to you specifically. “Who is this from?” you couldn't help but ask, maybe wondering if it was from Jude… “It was sent from him,” you followed where he had pointed, and met with a tall, brunette, European dressed man. You raised the drink, as in a thank you, to which he smirked. 

“Seems like you got his attention… You planning to say hi?” your friend teased, to which you gave her a playful glare. “Who knows,” you shrugged, taking a sip of your wine instead of the blue drink, “Maybe it could be the moment of my life.”

The food was amazing, and your tastebuds fell in love with the flavor of the dish you chose. You all laughed and reminisced on the good times together, especially those when you were dorming with each other, and that trip to Germany where you had lost your bags. “No guys I can’t. It feels like I’ve done an ab workout after all this laughing,” you said, grabbing your stomach. “No, but like I said, I don’t remember that night at all-”

You covered your face when you heard them starting to sing Happy Birthday, hating the attention from the whole restaurant on you. It was slightly embarrassing, and they did this knowing it would be a good laugh, which you didn't mind since you had done it to one of them before. All you could do was shift around in your seat, looking around the table before blowing the candles out again the second time. 

“I had the goal! I had it!-” Jude was quickly cut off by the cheering, glancing over to the table in the corner, his breath hitched, seeing the familiar smile as they turned their head to what their friend was saying, watching as you threw your head back laughing contently. It looked like you were happy, over the moon. You were all he frequently thought of these days, he needed and wanted to know what you were doing, how you were, wishing to ask what the hell went wrong between the two of you. He was going crazy not knowing, especially since all you did was leave him on read. No matter where he was, his only thought was you. 

“Y/n is here,” was all that Jude said, shifting to look straight at you, but it was quite difficult. “Jude, you’re speaking nonsense, c’mon back to what you were saying,” his teammate said, one he grew super close with once he arrived. Jude clenched his jaw, fist knocking and tapping on the table as he turned back to you, but now watching as a man was whispering into your ear, you were smiling and nodding. 

He felt the burn rising in his chest, not liking the way you looked content next to a man that wasn't him, whispering back into his ear and watching as he went back to his table. Jude’s shoulders tensed under his shirt, a vein popping from his forehead. His tongue pointed on the inside of his cheek. What was so fucking funny that had you laughing like that? That man shouldn’t haven't even been there, it should’ve been him there. 

Jude knew it was your birthday today, and he wondered if you had received the roses he sent along with a letter. He was tempted to go over there and try to make amends but it wasn’t the time or place for that. So for the rest of his dinner, he just stared at you, gawking at how you looked. The dress causing dirty images in his head, urging him to go over and run his hand down your spine to your ass, make you yours as he desired. 

“I need a drink,” he sighed, rubbing his fingers over the lines on his forehead. Hi teammate laughing at his distressed look, teasing him for thinking about it too much and letting it get to his head. “If you're that bothered, why don’t you go over and talk to her? Maybe she’s willing to explain?” he said, but Jude shook his head. “I don’t think she wants to see me. She's made it clear by not texting me back or answering my calls. She won't even approve for our next Spanish lesson!” 

While you hadn’t, Jude had known of you prior to meeting you. Hearing how you were a special friend to those around him. You had a bright smile, warm eyes, and a caring personality, yet were so shy and innocent, and always willing to help him no matter what. You were too good for him, but he was whipped, wanting to know anything and everything about you. Jude brought himself to ask you to be his Spanish teacher in a way, after approving his transfer in early March, when those moving rumors began to surface in the media. 

When he finally asked you, it looked like you were taken at back, he quickly fell mesmerized with you, the way your eyes glimmered, your rosy cheeks, the way you couldn't hold proper hold eye contact with him, being intimidated by his gaze. What he absolutely adored was the way you fit in his embrace, you were smaller than him, and he was scared those times when you hugged he would hold you tight but that wasn't the case. He would never miss a session, bringing something to you every time from it being your favorite snacks to even your favorite roses. 

When you’d meet in public, it was a private cafe or somewhere secluded so he wouldn't get recognized. But even then, it was always so hard to focus on teaching a language, when all you did was talk about each other's lives. Having grown up as a quiet person, living most of your life privately, meeting Jude probably was the best thing that ever happened to you. You were used to everyone leaving you or being treated like nothing but him? You were his absolute world. 

It took time to get out of that shell you created. You were scared of being used or one of the so-called flings. you never let him in, slowly but surely you began to dig deeper into his heart. You fell, but he fell harder for you. He made you feel comfortable in your setting, never pushed you for me, he was respectful and brutally honest, which you admired. 

“Are we ready to go?” you asked after paying. They argued over who would pay what but in the end it was decided to split the check between everyone. You slid from the table, walking where he wouldn't see you if he was paying attention. You made sure your dress wasn't high, and fixed your jewelry, walking slowly out the door but you were suddenly stopped by that man again.

“Leaving so soon?”

“Yes. Thank you for the drink once again, but like I said I'm not interested in anything right now if that makes sense. I'm just focusing on myself and getting started with my career,“ you apologize feeling like owed him an explanation, but you didn’t. He just gave off bad vibes, and you didn't like his aura and cocky self. “Not even your number? If time is what you need I’ll be more than welcome to wait.”

He was persistent and you almost gave in. Why did you feel bad rejecting him? You had told yourself if someone new wanted to enter your life, you would allow them. You were going to be open to moving on after Jude. But why was it so hard to do just that? For god’s sake, you couldn't even give him your number, without thinking back to Jude. Thinking of how he would feel, or what he would say to you. 

You gave him an apologetic smile, before nodding your head, “What about my insta?” to which he quickly agreed. 

If Jude was jealous before, he was over the roof now. He scoffed seeing you exchange whatever you were doing, his nails deep into the palm of his hands ignoring the sting in his heart. Were you moving on? Even if there was no label put on the two of you, it looked like you were, and that truly scared him. Jude’s questions were still unanswered to him, and now he was losing it, darting over to where you were. “Jude just give it up. Give her-” he heard them say but he was just focused on you. 

“No. You can’t, I won't let you. She’s doing just fine without you,” one of your friends said as she saw the tall man beginning to approach you. “I don't care! I am miserable and I won’t put up without a fight. If she doesn't want to talk I'll hear it from her,” he said, which is true, he could have his temper and you knew that. He wasn’t going to give up so soon. Giving up on you was out of the picture…“I'll see you around,” the stranger said smirking, making Jude internally gag. 

“You won’t.”

You look up and see him standing there, just like you had seen him before with an all-black outfit. He looked hurt, a small frown placed on his lips, and his brows plugged in together confounded. Jude turned his gaze to Alex, now a scowling look to the stranger from tonight, once he heard him remark back, “And who's to stop me from that? You?”

Jude licked his lips, and scratched his temple, nodding before saying something, “Yes me. Is that a problem?” he raised his brow, approaching Alex closer with small steps. “Well, it seems like your girl, Y/n right?,” Alex pointed to you with his head, “Is currently not taken, so I'm free to do whatever I’d like. And if she was, well then, seems like it didn’t stop her from giving me her socials?” 

Alex was starting to get into Jude’s head, he saw the rage in his eyes causing him to smirk, and tap Jude’s chest, “Well seems like you have your answer…” 

Jude placed a smug look into his face, now tapping Alex’s chest, “Like I said. She’s not interested, because quite frankly all you got was her socials. If she was interested like you seemed convinced to be, she would give in, guess your charming self isn’t fitting her cup of tea. You're only into her for one reason, and she’s not looking for that ” Jude cocked his head to the side in a ‘we both know what we're talking about’ way.

When you saw Alex approach Jude closer that's when you decided to get between them, your hand connecting with his chest, pushing Jude back. You saw Jude’s matches, and you knew what he was thinking, he lost his control easily and you didn't want to cause a scene here, especially for Jude’s sake as he was the talk of the media. An article being posted the next morning saying he was fighting, wasn’t going to look good for him. 

“Stop. Let it go,” you whispered to only where he could hear, Jude glanced down at you, grabbing your hips as you walked him outside, your friends following behind. “I'm sorry for all that, have a good rest of your night, “ you said to Alex, watching him roll his eyes, but you couldn't care less. Jude had a point, and you weren’t looking for a quick fuck. 

When you walked back out, Jude was pacing back and forth, talking to his teammates as they tried to calm him down. Ella walked towards you, trying to get you to go with them, but she understood if you wanted to talk to him. “We’ll be in the car waiting, if you need us don’t hesitate to scream,” she said to which you nodded. It looked like Jude’s friends did the same, walking over to a fancy car, with more than enough room for all of them. 

Your heels clicked against the concrete floor, catching Jude’s attention. “Wha- What was that? Care to explain?” he said furiously, his hand pointing to the direction of the restaurant. “Can you keep your voice down? I don’t think you’d want articles resurfacing-”

“Y/n! I could care less about that. Let them post it, I don’t care. I want to know what happened between us. We don't talk for weeks, and suddenly it seems like you're a new person. Did you forget about us? What we did? What we shared? How you specifically told me that you were falling for me? What the fuck changed?” Jude let out hurt. He was hurting and you saw that. 

“Well to me, I saw and heard what I needed to hear from you Jude. You played me, led me on, made me believe there could ever be something between us. But oh boy was I wrong! I was so wrong about you after you proved to me you weren't the person I had met. The Jude I met is not the one standing in front of me, not the one who promised me they felt the same way but instead lied. Do you not know what that feels like? I feel stupid, used!” you yelled. The frustration being built inside you, wanting to be let out of the cage after being built.

“Led you on? What the hell are you talking about?” he scoffed, shaking his head confused, “I made my intentions very clear to you, how I felt about you. I did anything to make you happy! I wanted to see you happy, happy next to me. I was willing to do anything, I was patient with you. There was a reason why I asked you to teach me Spanish, I wanted to get to know you. If anything I feel like you led me on,” he pointed out, motioning with his hands. 

“Excuse me? How can you say that? I wasn't the one who said ‘Yeah she means nothing to me really. Doesn’t mean shit what we are, just in it for the fun. She’s nice to be around, but being in it for the long run, you know me, how I am. This being in relationships isn't what I want right now’ when your friends asked you about me” you mocked, then slightly gasping when you realized what you’d said. Jude furrowed his brows, a shocked or surprised look on his face, not knowing what to say. 

“What?”

“You heard me. I heard you that night at the party… I went out to look for you to ask if you wanted to head home, or go out to the city, just something between us. But once I heard that it was clear I had read your intentions wrong. I wasted no time and left. Could you imagine the way they would make fun of me? For being delusional and not knowing about how you felt?”

Jude’s face softened, knowing he was caught in the act, and that what he said was true. The familiar of his chest tightening was back, not bearing the fact you were crying in front of him, all because of him. But he had to let you know that what he said wasn’t true, the only he said what he said was because those ‘friends’ he was with, only use him for social imaging. He wanted to protect you, protect you from the cruel world that existed. “Y/n-”

“No. I really don’t want to hear it… I just want to enjoy the rest of my night, my birthday with my friends. Have fun Jude…” you sniffled, wiping your tears away to look more presentable. Jude gripped your wrist when he saw you walking back, “No please, we need to talk about this! I can’t just stand here knowing we can prevent the confusion and mistake further. Please, let’s just talk.”

“Like I said. I want to enjoy my night and make it the moment of my life for once. If you want to fix things like you claim, you always know when to find me…”

It's true. He always did know where to find you. Which is why he was now staring at you from the corner of the club, dancing away with your girlfriends. Take shots then and there, laugh and talk with them, and take photos with your friends. Part of him felt happy, that you were able to distract yourself after crying and being upset. But he just desperately wanted to take you home and hold you, to let you listen to what he had to say. 

His friends would include him, often earning a laugh or joke from Jude, he wasn’t also going to be upset either. He had you back and wasn't going to let you leave again, he was going to try because you didn't read his intentions wrong, just didn’t know the full story. He saw you turn down guys that came up to you, which made him feel proud, and secure, often smirking because you were his girl, his only. 

Most of his friends who came with him left, and then it was just him, standing by the bar, intensely staring at your toned legs, those heels that you wore were driving him insane. Watching as your hips moved to the rhythm of the song, your hands tracing from your thighs, up to your hips and then side, over and over again. It was almost like you were teasing him, which you were unbeknownst to him. You wanted to show him what he was willing to lose. That at the end of the day, you were going to move on and forget about him. 

It was 2 a.m. when your friends decided to leave, and they knew you wouldn't accompany them along, since Jude was still there. They couldn't blame you, they also wanted to make sure you got the closure you needed to move on, so they would support you no matter what. If there's anything you love, is that they would never bring you down or judge you. 

“Still here?” 

Jude got startled, looking down at you, a shy smile on your face, warming his heart. There was something about you being shy and innocent that pulled him in more into you. Wanting to be the only one who would see this side of you, playful and loving. “Yeah… waiting for the most beautiful in the world to leave, but looks like she's standing right in front of me now,” he said, taking a sip from his drink.

“I won’t push you to talk if you're not ready, you know I'm not like that. If you need more time I completely understand you,” Jude stated, he was serious about this, the last thing he wanted was to push you away further. What more could you lose, if talking with Jude meant him being back in your life, you were willing to try. 

“Let’s go home. I'm ready.”

Jude would be lying if he said he wasn't nervous. You looked better, sexier than ever. That perfume you wore, he loved, especially how you still wore the gold charm bracelet he gave you. He loved this confident side of you, always used to the quietness and reserved part of you, so attempting to calm his nerves was hard. Trying to get his heart rate to calm down was also getting harder by the second as you led him inside your apartment. 

It was still the same, just with some birthday decor and balloons. The same desk in the back where you two had practiced and gave him Spanish lessons was still there. The plants he gifted you, were hung up and longer, as they dangeled. The teddy he had won for you when the two of you passed by a fair a certain night was on the couch, resting peacefully. The roses he’d given you for today were in a red glass vase, on the small table by a huge mirror you had, making him smile. He missed the feeling of home with you. 

“Sorry if it's a mess, I was studying when they came, and I didn't think I'd see you tonight,” you blushed embarrassed, apologizing but Jude didn't care. He instead just walked over and stared at the roses, “I was starting to think you didn't receive them, or that you threw them away…” he admitted, touching the petals. 

“No, I can’t. They're beautiful, plus it was the first thing I woke up to this morning, along with your lovely letter. Thank you by the way,” you said quietly, being respectful about the gift, interlocking your hands together as you walked over to him, breathing in the familiar cologne. “You’re welcome. I'm glad you like them.” 

You watched as his long fingers played with the ribbon on the vase, his veiny hands flexing, but you could feel his intense gaze on you, slowly looking up, getting lost in his brown eyes, the wrinkles in the outer corners. It went quiet, just the heavy breathing that appeared from both of you, the tension becoming hot and tense, swallowing your dry throat as you cleared your throat, and let out a small whisper of his name, “Jude…”

“I couldn't bear the fact, that the last time I would've seen you was that night at the party… I would've said yes to you, you know? I desperately wanted to get out of there once I joined them outside… they were people I thought I could've associated myself with but I was wrong… being new to Spain, I just wanted to build new friendships, but I regret it with them since all they wanted was the few seconds of fame… I don't know who’s real and who’s fake anymore. You were real though… what we had it's still all real to me…” he spoke up, grabbing your smaller hand into his.

“While you went inside to grab the drinks, they began to talk about you, and I wasn’t going to let them do that, because you felt safe and protected around me, you trusted me and I didn’t want to break that bond. I only said what I said because I wanted them to leave me alone, I wanted you to myself, have this privacy and intimate moments like now between the two of us. I wanted to be selfish and keep you to me,” Jude urged, tracing your knuckles with his thumbs. 

You wanted to dig yourself into a hole, never come out, unless there was a sale 100% off in Sephora. This was all interpreted wrong, you had failed to communicate with him about it, causing you to be distant and sad about it. You felt slightly at fault but it wasn't the case. It still hurt to hear because at the moment it felt like you wouldn't be enough for him. 

“What I said was wrong, and I don’t want it to come off that I become a different person when I'm around other people, because I'm not. I just wanted to protect you, and what we had. You've seen it in the past and I can prove that to you. You know me better than anyone else, only seen this side of me because you allowed me to do that. I'm a way better person around you, and only you. So please forgive me…” his voice becoming softer, pleading at you.  

Your pulse was fast, it's what being around him did to you. But him standing here, fixing things between the two of you, shutting those insecurities and unanswered questions away, and proving to you that whatever went on between you wasn't just for fun or to make you feel used. Jude was in it for the long run, only if it was you aside him, not anyone else…

“I feel dumb… I feel like I might've overreacted and this would’ve been avoided if I had just spoken to you… but it hurt because for a second you weren’t Jude, my Jude…” you said, making Jude’s heart race at the words ‘my Jude’. “I thought I wasn't enough for you… that any minute we had spent together was just for you to have a laugh, but it's clear it wasn’t… So of course I forgive you Jude… only if you forgive me for shutting you out like I did…”

“You know my answer to that… You know I'll forgive you, but it was never my intention to make you feel like that okay baby? Remember that. You’re more than what I deserve, and every moment we spent I have it here. And I got every other thing that I need and want but you,” he took your hand and placed it over his heart, “I love you Y/n…” Jude confessed, swallowing his nervousness away. 

You started at him with wide eyes, searching for any signs that would say to back away but there was none because you felt it too. The love, the lust, the feeling of it, all of it, you felt. Your mom had said you’ll feel with the correct person, the feeling of being stable, knowing that the person you love would prove it to you every day for the rest of your life. That when you love, there’s absolute trust always. That love isn’t a fairytale, that it exists when you met your soulmate connection. Jude was your forever soulmate. 

“I love you Jude…” you said abruptly, your hand reaching over and tracing his cheek with the pad of your thumb. Now it was his turn to search for any signs, but he didn’t, because the soulmate connection was mutual. You loved him, the way he loved you. He reached over and slowly leaned down to your lips, not pushing the limit not knowing if you’d want it, but when you pulled his neck to yours, connecting your lips together, every cell in his body ignited. He was back where he desired. Back in your embrace where he felt secure, forgetting about anything when with you. 

His hands traveled to your waist and pulled you closer to him, stumbling a little but he made it work. His lips against yours caused an ache, a sensation of heaven in you. All you saw was a future with him. Jude’s tongue prominently teased your bottom lip, wanting to take it into his mouth, so he was quick to do so when you allowed him to. Savoring your sweet taste forever, a tainted memory to cherish. 

Your hands were tucked on his chest, often raking down to his abdomen. Jude pulled away, holding your face while tucking your hair back, “I've been wantin' you, so what you wanna do tonight? Make this the moment of your life,” Jude said, being down for anything. You kissed the tip of his nose, biting your lip, “I don't wanna hidе… Always been a good girl, but I have a bad side. Can I show you, baby? I'ma guarantee you won't forget…”

Jude was going crazy, his cock hardening under his boxers, the urge to take you right then and there. The innocence was gone from you, no more shy girl, and he wanted to know the bad side you proclaimed to have… to kiss every inch of your skin, the birthmark under your ear, the small painted moles of your chest and neck. To have you cumming underneath him, over and over, to show you who you belong to, to show you the love. He heard the small whimper you let out “Just like that,” as he continued to discover more of you. 

“I don't want a taste, I want the whole damn thing,” he said as he walked you over to your bedroom, “How I feel with you, it feels right, so what you on for the night, baby?”

As he slowly removed your dress, he fell in love again right then and there, you looked pure, perfect, untamed, and for him only, kissing your collarbones all the way up to your mouth where he gave you a messy and passionate kiss. Feeling the warm skin against his palms, he wanted to capture the moment forever, trace every curve and imperfection on you. “So pretty and sexy for me baby, want it all, anything you're willing to give me as long as you say it.” 

“If you don't mind, you should try to stay the night. Because I'm willing to let you do anything you want, I'll let you make this the moment of your life…” you say, removing his shirt and tracing over his pecks, kissing his soft skin, watching as goosebumps appear, hearing him let out a grunt before diving back to kissing your lips. 

“Anything the birthday girl wants… she’ll get…” 

yourusername 🔒

liked by: judebellingham, ellaaaooo, yourfriend, others.

yourusername: grateful to see another year, cheers 🥂

comments:

ellaaaooo: cheers to us indeed! happy birfday 🤩😍

↪️ yourusername: love you babes! thank you for today! 🤍

judebellingham: love you princess. cheers to another year, can’t wait for the next one! 😉😍😘

↪️ yourusername: thank you for the roses! mi principe! 🤍😍

user: happy b-day! 🎂

liked by you.

yourfriend: #milf 😵‍💫. #ursosexy. #savemesomecake.

↪️ yourusername: love you pretty 😂🤍

otherfriend: SKSKDNNDN HAPPY MF BIRTHDAY 🧟‍♀️🧟‍♀️

↪️ yourusername: NDNNDNEJ THANK YOUU!! 🤍🤍

oldfriend: 😍😍😍

liked by you.

judebellingham

liked by: yourusername, ellaaaooo, gioreyna, camavinga, auroleitchuameli, jobebellingham, yourfriend, user388, and 1,876,456 others.

judebellingham: mi flor. mi motivo. mi amor. mi maestra de español. 🌸❤️

comments:

yourusername 🔒: te amo guapo! y era secreto de nosotros…

↪️ judebellingham: oops, tenían que saber que tu eres mía y para mi 👀❤️

camavinga: congratulations bro! ❤️

↪️ judebellingham: thanks bro! ❤️ camavinga oh ohhh camavinga oh ohh 🗣️🗣️

↪️ yourusername 🔒: ignore him… thank you!

gioreyna: it’s official!! happy for you two!

↪️ judebellingham: thank you! cheers mate! ❤️

↪️ yourusername 🔒: 🤍

jobebellingham: THANK GOD @YOURUSERNAME!! he was driving me nuts with him being sad and emo…

↪️ yourusername 🔒: LMFOAOSOOS 😂😭

↪️ judebellingham: shut it. or i’ll tell mom about last weekend.

↪️ jobebellingham: 🧍🏾‍♂️

user839: we lost him girlies… 💔

user7907: HES TAKEN? WTF? I CANNOT COPE THIS???

user34: she’s so gorgeous 😍

user6656: rue… when was this?

[ch4liz4rd-jpeg]

i wanna speak to the void abt gwens universe's colour symbolism and how it links to trans identity so here it is, feel free to read

the colours used in gwens universe - primarily in interactions with her dad are pinkish and bluish tones. the animators used pink as a way to show honesty, candidness and openness expressed, whilst the blue served to show isolation and dishonesty. ill discuss why i think so below

in the scene where gwen returns home after quitting the band, gwen is coloured in blue tones.

shes hiding her identity as spiderwoman from her dad and isolating herself in her room.

her dad tries to open up and talk to her about the case, hence the warm/orangey tones. but gwen remains blue, shutting him out. but when they hug, gwen is more purplish, showing a hint of her opening up.

the other scene i think is especially significant with her colour symbolism is the confrontation after the guggenheim sequence.

when gwen comes out as spiderwoman, the colours start to shift.

gwen is now candid, shes come out to her dad and is trying to make him listen and understand her. but just like gwens blues became pinks, george's pinks shift to blue.

the last image in this set is actually so chilling, the fear in his eyes hurt me deeply 💀 anyway

george hides behind his cop persona, avoiding and isolating from gwens confession to him, which is supported by the colour used to portray him.

all of this builds to what i think theyre trying to say about gwen being transgender. the typical gender to colour association is pink girl and blue boy. the choice of colour is deliberate here as much as it usually is with the spiderverse team. why use these two colours in this specific way? a lot of people who dont think gwen is a trans girl will say "well those two colours dont have to represent trans identity" they dont, but the details say that the spiderverse team (once again) is intentionally using them to talk about trans identity and coming out.

i think that by putting the "protect trans kids" poster in gwens room, and the trans flag patch on officer stacy's jacket show that theyre not just randomly picking the colours, but that they made the conscious choice for the boy associated colour - blue - to show hiding and isolation. whilst pink is about honesty and openness whilst being the girl associated colour. i think that the use of these colours in this way is saying that gwen is a trans woman.

and if ur still not convinced well

i havent even talked about the DIALOGUE in this movie and how trans it is. her arc (and miles' arc) across the two movies is such a queer coded story. "can i tell my dad, will he approve of me? will he still love me the same?" like it couldnt be more obvious. someone also mentioned somewhere that the side shave is also significant? like when she has the long hair facing toward the viewers its the same as the pink being used to show honesty and linked to femininity, and the short side almost like a masc haircut and being of the opposite meaning when its facing the audience. idk abt that one but its an interesting thought! that as well as her like having the same shoe size as hobie even tho that man is so fucking tall - yk this cuz her chucks are stated to be his.

anyways if u got that far, thanks???

and if u still deny that gwen is trans then idk what to say, u prob hate trans ppl

gwen is trans, they dont need to explicitly say it inorder for it to be true, just bc they didnt say gwen is trans, or miles is somehow queer, or hobie is gender non conformist, doesnt mean theyre cishet.

[coral-melon]

Tangled Nightmare!

Obey me! Brothers x Curly!MC (reader)

Genre: Crack/shenanigans, Fluff; slightly suggestive?

No pronouns said but probably AFAB

Hopefully isn’t too OOC ._ .🤞

Summary: Your hair is being impossible and you need help detangling your hair. This is for my hella curly hair peeps! Kinda slightly self-indulgent too.. but my other peeps are more than welcome to imagine themselves here!

You’ve been procrastinating over when you felt like washing and do your hair. Under normal circumstances, you do your hair once a week. You kinda skipped it though, saying it didn’t look bad at all — which it wasn’t, why even take the life out of it when it could last a bit longer? It’s been 3 weeks…

Today was the day you were ready to do your hair! Your take out your brushes, washing and styling products. You got everything ready to just be in a happy, productive mood. What could possibly go wrong?

-Dun dun- your hair was impossible! You wash and put plenty of conditioner but your brush just wouldn’t go through! Your arms were tired and your hands were getting cramps; you’ve been at it for a while and tried many things, but nothing! You were on the verge of giving up and going bald, but you go to your last resort, getting another pair of hands and eyes. So you summon your boyfriend!

Lucifer

This man was busy buried in his yet again endless mountains of paperwork. He was so close to just drowning himself in demonus to get by at this point..

But suddenly, he hears your call and the dreadful scene was changed when he was summoned… to the bathroom?

He then sees you, peeking through the shower curtains, bawling your eyes out. He was about to scold you for calling him at such a busy hour, but the thought was kicked right out the window at the sight of seeing your tearful eyes. He keeps his composure though; he needs to understand the situation at hand, after all.

— “My dear, what happens?” He asks as he got closer to you.

— “Lucifer, please help me! I’m on the verge of shaving it all off!” You say after taking a deep breath.

He’s a bit confused at first, but when you reveal the utter mess you had on your head, he understood what you were so frantic about; but at the same time, he was still dumbfounded. He clears throat, and asks you what you need him to do.

You wouldn’t be able to tell that he’s actively stressing on the inside, he’s graceful at everything he does even if he doesn’t have the slightest clue of what he’s doing.

He couldn’t help his mind to.. slightly wonder off. You had sat down on the bathtub with your back facing him, told him how he could pull your hair as much as he wanted.. as long as it detangled the knots, of course!

He had always been infatuated with your curls, but this experience gave him an insight of just how much effort you put into making it look how it always does.

This was also quite satisfying to him, it destressed him to the point where he almost forgot about the work that was still waiting for him at his office.. And for you, it felt like a heavenly massage.. he’ll check you every now to make sure you’re alright.

It took a while, but him being him, everything worked out in the end! Your curls finally softened and ever so defined✨

You thank him profusely, saying that you wouldn’t know what you’d do with yourself it it weren’t for him.

But he simply looked at you with a sinister gentle smile and darkened eyes..

— "I presume that you already know this means that you have a great price to pay for taking up my time, correct..? I suggest you don't keep me waiting for long."

Mammon

Your summon was literally a blessing, he was in a bit of a tight spot with some witches and you saved him in the nick of time!

— “Mammon, you gotta help me!” So I guess it’s only fair he helped you too..

You explain to him what’s going on in a frantic state, would ask you to go to a hair salon, but you starting crying about how expensive that would be. 100% understands and doesn’t question it any farther. So he tries to calm you down, saying he gots this!

— “Ha! Don’cha even worry about it! The great Mammon’s gonna handle this; no problem!✨💪🏽”

His confidence gave you reassurance and put you at ease, you were finally saved! He’d be decent at it, it’s not as unbearable at all and would be soothing to the point of falling soundly asleep.. if he wasn’t so on and off about it!

You’d eventually learn that he just couldn’t help but get distracted by your naked body. Your back facing him, fully exposed to him.. And your hair was just perfect.. ack! Nono! None of that right now! If he could, he’d worship you.

He’d be like: Lord have mercy.. We must stay focused, bothers! We must. Stay focused!

Fell in love with you over and over again every time he passed the brush through you hair. Watching intently how your hair curled so beautifully..

Every now and then, the thought of selling a bit of your hair also came to mind. But quickly gets rid of the idea; you worked how to maintain it, you’d kill him if he chopped it!

Overall, pretty nice and bonding experience. Later thinks about how he wants you to do the same for him.. But he could never admit that out loud!

Feels all high and mighty when you thank him! Of course you should be grateful to him; He took the time out of his busy schedule to help you out and everything! …Kinda forgetting the fact that he would’ve been roasted by witches if it weren’t for you.

— “Hmph, nothin’ I couldn’t handle! Though that’s gonna cost ya a hefty pri—! Oi wait wait! I’m jokin, I’m jokin!… Half joking..”

Leviathan

He was in the middle of choosing a spot to proudly display he’s latest figure collection. But that was soon interrupted when he was summoned to the bathroom.

You call for him as you peek through the shower curtain, motioning him to come closer. He freezes for a moment, until he finally realizes that his in the same room as you while you’re naked.

Proceeds to do that Finn scream*

— “Levi. Levi! Do not freak out, cuz I’m freaking out; and we can’t have two people freaking out! It just doesn’t work. You’re the only one that can help me!” You say, trying to have him not run out on you.

After some back and forth bickering and convincing, you finally managed to get him the courage he needed to help you out!

Don’t look at him though; especially not in the eyes, he’ll simply die.💀

He’s face will be completely red the whole time, you would think he’d pass out at some point… don’t get me wrong, he did — almost. You give him an idea to summon something that’ll splash him with cold water whenever he started to wobble.

In his head, there’s two voices: the one that’s been constantly screaming, and the one that is pretty much worshiping every time he strokes you hair.

Oh, Lemme give you some hope. -Ahem-🎤Don’t be fooled though! This guy does cosplay, therefore knows to do hair. Prove me otherwise!

Knows exactly how to deal with knots without ruining the hair, so at least it wasn’t painful! Your hair is far too sacred for him to mess up!

Once he finishes, there’s a short moment where he feels so proud of himself. But whatever was gripping onto the thin strand keeping his soul together breaks after you gave him a wide smile and thanked him for saving you!

— [ERROR] Levichan.exe does not compute.

Satan

He was getting mad over something, though he himself didn’t know what it was. So he was gonna go destress by flipping Lucifer off but you suddenly summonsed him.

He sensed you were frustrated before he could even see you. So it didn’t come as a surprise when you peeked through while gripping the shower curtains and heated tears in your eyes.

— “What happened, sweetheart?”

— “I’m this close to going apeshit and ripping my hair out.. Please help me!”

Doesn’t know how to handle curly hair, of course. But he’s willing to try. After all, He can’t just leave you like that! Your hair is like a work of art to him, so he wouldn’t want you shaving it off in a pit of rage! You got lucky this time, Lucifer..

Welp, he found a new coping mechanism! This was like a puzzle for him to solve, one that would also make you happy and him quite quite satisfied in the end. That was enough for him to get him going.

He was firm with how he handled you tangled hair, but in a good way. He did his best to not pull too hard and hurt you accidentally.

Keeps it respectful. But~ I do imagine his hands would go through your scalp and gently pulls on the roots of your hair in a very teasing manner. Will play dumb if you ask about it. ((Ever seen that hair pull massage video? Yeah, that))

And/Or, will play with your hair a bit like cats do when they’re massaging their paws onto something soft.

All in all, you’ll feel like you’ve ascended into a new level of lightheadedness with how at ease you head feel. Whatever headache you had a moment ago is long gone!

He comes to appreciate your hair a lot more after this; he’s a blond with short straight hair, so he didn’t fully grasp just how much work it actually is to maintain you hair.. See? A work of art!

He’s already thinking of the next time he could do this. Like I said before, this was his new coping mechanism and I don’t think you can’t do anything about it once he made up his mind.

— “You should let me do this again the next time you wash your hair, it was a very pleasing experience..”

Asmodeous

While in the middle of choosing what perfume and lipstick to where to the day, he could already sense beauty troubles before you could even think about summoning him.

When your call beckons him to come, he is ready. You peek through the curtains with tearful eyes, too embarrassed to really want to show him the mess that happened but not really having a choice at this point.

— “Love, Don’t even say a word! Asmo’s here to help~♡”

Gets immediately to work! He already had his hair products ready. You would think it’s kinda unnecessary to have as many products as he had on hand, but why even question it?

And ooh, how flawless he was.. You felt like you were at a spa with how at ease you felt. You could hear him cry out every now and then, saying how awfully tangled your hair was. But not once did you feel any pain.

But when he isn’t crying, he talks to you like hairstylists do at a hair salon. He tells you about some gossip he heard at Majolish and some products he’s planning on sharing with you. He asks you some questions and all in all, have a good time together. It’s honestly very fun!

By the end of it all, you’ve never felt more replenished. Your curls look the liveliest they’ve ever been, and you hadn’t even added your hair products or defused it!

He finished way quicker than what you would’ve taken. You probably still would’ve been only have way after all this time.

He’ll be fawning over you and saying how obsessed he is about your curls. ..but might start getting touchy since he hadn’t during that whole time. Which is kinda surprising he lasted this long.

— “Why don’t we go straight to my room? I’d love to try some hairstyles and new products on you!… Oh, no need to put clothes on, hon~ ;)”

Beelzebub

He was in the middle of doing some warmups before starting his regular workout routines. So imagine his surprise when he suddenly ends up in the bathroom.

But what surprised him even more was you peeking through the shower curtain, barely being able to hold your tears of frustration. Though you can’t stay feeling that way for long when you have a big fella worrying and asking you what’s wrong.

— “I need another pair of hands and eyes.. Could you help me out?” You say and laugh sheepishly.

— “Y-Yeah, sure! Just tell me what do to..”

The last thing he expected was to do your hair and has no experience whatsoever. But he’s washed and bushed Belphie’s hair before, so how hard can it be?

You two really need to stop underestimating the situation.💀👍

Has no idea what he’s doing but he will be so gentle! He also apologizes softly every time he pulls and brushes your hair, which is quite often.

His hands went through your hair so nicely, massaging your scalp and often playing with your hair. Your hair is so pretty..! So pretty.. it looks good… very good..

— “Beel, do not eat my hair!”

— “Oh, right. Sorry..”

But, I mean come on! Based on his logic, Your hair looks and feels so good.. it even smells amazing! So why wouldn’t it taste good too? It’s very tempting👀✨ if you want a speedy haircut, he’s your guy!

Very good at following directions, and appreciates that you tell him to divide your hair into sections to that it’s easier for him to detangle the knots. He makes sure to ask if it hurts or if you’re doing alright.

Also very respectful! Keeps his eyes where he should be putting them, doesn’t touch you where he shouldn’t and doesn’t make the situation weird; he would never want to make you feel uncomfortable. Though you can see that there’s a soft hint of blush decorating his cheeks..

This ends up being the most unique workout for him, one that required a hella amount of delicacy and patience. And self control.

You thank him for helping you out, joking about how you would’ve just shaved it all off if you couldn’t do it. He’s just happy that your happy.

*Growl..* “Oh, I’m starving now. I’ll head toward the kitchen so come join me when you’re done, okay?”

Belphegor

Obviously sleeping in some who knows where corner in the most uncomfortable position imaginable. Your summon kinda saves him from that.

This guy was dumbfounded when you asked him to help you with your hair. Like, don’t you know him?? He hasn’t even brushed his own hair this week, you think he can handle your hair?!

— “Belphie, Please! I can’t just ask someone else!”

— “Go to the hair salon or something!”

— “Don’t you know how expensive that is?? They’ll charge me a shit ton!”

He can’t refuse you when you’re this distressed about what’s going on. So he’ll reluctantly agree to help you, but doesn’t promise to do a good job. Will ask again if you’re sure you want him to help you; ..oh well, your decision.

Decides that the best course of action..! Is to look it up in DevilTube. Ain’t no way this mans knows what he’s doing.

There’s a 75% chance you’ll end up worse than when how you started. His movements are so stiff, and awkward, way too rough for your scalp, and all in all, just ass.

Will sarcastically tell you to just leave it like that, it’ll work fine as a pillow. That, of course, is not an option.

He’ll also play with your hair, making a bubble tower; and if possible? Make shapes with your hair. I’m telling you, your hair will get a lot worse with him ;—;

But lo and behold, if a miracle happens and somehow managed to detangle it? You’ll never skip a week of your hair routine. This horrible learning experience taught you that routines are very important or else all hell will break lose.

He never exercise, so imagine how how numb and exhausted his arms will feel after this?? Got to learn where you get most of your strength from even if you don’t look strong.. will want to make you just as exhausted as he feel. Do with that information what you will.

Moral of the story, don’t ask Belphie to help you. You’re better off doing it yourself!👍

— *huff, huff* “Your hair must be one of hell’s miserable wonders.. *Pant* You owe me a long cuddle session after this..!”

End

My magic wouldn’t work on Belphie’s dialogue.. ;-;

But Oh god, I had so much fun with this! I could stop laughing at some of them when I kept imagining them in my head. So I hope you too also had a good laugh when reading this! ^^⸝⸝

[ckret2]

This chapter is a whole lot of Bill and Ford talking and I couldn't think of a good illustration for it, so have a funny comic instead.

Here's chapter 9 of The Pines Have Captured Human Bill Cipher And Nobody Is Happy About It (otherwise known as Wasting Away Again in the Goldilocks Zone). Sept 13 2024 - now updated for TBOB compatibility!

####

Ford knocked on the bathroom door. "Time's up. You've had your two hours, Cipher."

There was no reply.

Ford glanced at Stan.

Stan grumbled under his breath and cracked his knuckles. "BILL!" He pounded on the door. "Either you come out of the bathroom, or we're dragging you out by your ankles!"

No reply.

"That's it," Stan snapped. Ford nodded in agreement and took a step back to cover Stan as he opened the door.

The bathroom reeked of chemically-enhanced rotten eggs. From knee-height down, every single surface in the room was plastered with curly blond hair. Behind the bath tub—naked, curled up in a ball, and hiding beneath a towel like a child—was Bill.

Stan and Ford gaped at the scene. And then they cracked up.

"Most—" Stan wheezed, "Most people just use shampoo! But hey, whatever floats your boat!"

Trying to sound stern and failing, Ford said, "I hope you plan to help clean this up."

Bill didn't reply. 

Stan coughed and pounded on his chest. "Gah. Almost choked on my dentures."

"How did you do this? I know we removed the blades from the room." Ford was glad he'd put on his boots. He picked up a bottle of hair removal cream from the bath tub and tested the weight. Almost empty. "You didn't use this on your scalp, did you? It's far too caustic to use around the face."

Stan asked, "How do you know?"

"I've experimented with many shaving techniques, Stanley."

Bill didn't reply.

"Bill?" Ford's smile faded. "Did you burn yourself?" If he was burned badly enough, that was an infection risk—the last thing they needed was to haul their prisoner to a doctor...

He took another step toward Bill. Bill tightened his arms around his knees and retreated further into the corner. And still he said nothing.

####

Stan and Ford agreed that dragging Bill's naked butt out of the bathroom wouldn't do anything to help protect Gravity Falls from the horrible alien triangle menace, and also wouldn't make them feel particularly noble; so they left the door open, told Bill to get dressed and get out, Stan went back to bed, and Ford sat in the attic window seat to wait.

It took almost thirty minutes before Ford heard Bill trudging upstairs. He had dressed, thank goodness, but still had the towel draped over his head, like a Victorian widow in a mourning veil. Ford wondered if it was bad to find the sight of his obvious distress so funny, or if the fact that it was Bill made it okay.

Bill got close enough to his window seat nest to spy Ford's boots from beneath his towel, veered off to the side, and curled up in a corner of the attic.

"Well," Ford said, to say something; and then drew a blank. Finally, he said, "The next time you claim you're out of practice at a basic human task, I'll believe you."

Ford could have sworn he heard the towel-covered lump hiss like a leaky tire. Had he gotten a laugh?

The ice broken, Ford went on: "Are you injured? That stuff can burn even when used correctly. And—you did not use it correctly."

No response.

"Just—why did you—why?"

No response.

"Say something so I know I don't have to call an ambulance and tell them you're in shock." Ford did not relish the idea of explaining a mysterious woman with no ID to a hospital.

Apparently, neither did Bill, because he muttered, "I don't need medical assistance." And then, "So I didn't want hair. Baldness isn't a sin. Get off my back."

"That's a heck of a way to get rid of it."

"Yeah, wow, I guess so. I wonder why I didn't just use a razor."

"You could have... You could have asked for a shave."

Bill let out another tire-wheeze laugh. At the thought of asking for help, or at the thought that he'd have received it?

"Bill—"

"Go away."

Ford frowned; but he got up, headed downstairs, and shut the bathroom door as he passed so Bill couldn't go back in.

And a few minutes later, came back with a sandwich made out of the first odds and ends he could find in the fridge, and a six pack of hard apple cider. "Here." He set the plate and six pack on the floor near Bill. "Mrs. Ramirez hasn't touched it, I promise."

Bill didn't move, not even to see what food Ford had brought.

Ford shifted his footing nervously, his common sense insisting that he'd demonstrated all the decency he was obliged to and that it was time to go; and then he sat down again on the window seat. "Listen," he said. "Bill." (He shouldn't be doing this, he shouldn't be talking to Bill Demon-Triangle Dimension-Destroyer Cipher, eternal nemesis, ruiner of Ford's life, threatener of his family; but right now, it was hard to see Bill Cipher beneath the hurting human.) "I've—been here before. I know what it's like to—to be trapped in an alien dimension, surrounded by hostile locals, with no way home." He tried not to think about the fact that Bill was the main reason Ford had been trapped, or that Ford was now one of the hostile locals, or that the locals (and Ford especially) had a damn good reason to be hostile to Bill, or that they all didn't want Bill to get home. He was kind of curious find out where the heck he was going with this conversation. "I know what that... grief is like."

Ford thought it might be an insult to suggest Bill was capable of grief; but Bill didn't twitch. Ford went on. "I know how tempting it is to—to ignore everything but the fight ahead. Never mind hot food, shelter, showers, fresh clothes, a comfortable bed. Luxuries you can tend to when your work is done. But—a fire can't keep burning without fuel and fresh air. Depriving yourself those 'luxuries' doesn't turn you into some ascetic warrior-monk. It simply... burns you out. It makes it that much harder to achieve anything." Ford shrugged. "I—learned that the hard way."

He tried not to think about the fact that Bill had been the fight Ford had burned himself out for. Or the fact that Bill no doubt saw Ford as his fight. Or the fact that Ford didn't want Bill to achieve anything. He immediately regretted the decision to find out where he was going with this conversation. What was he doing?

Voice muffled, Bill said, "You think you're the only person who's ever had to get used to an alien dimension before?"

And Ford remembered—a moment too late—that Bill had destroyed his home. It was so easy to take that information, the horrific enormity of it, and stop there; but follow the implications one step further, and that meant Ford had never once seen Bill in his own dimension. As long as Ford had known him and billions of times longer, Bill had been a stranger in a strange land. Ford should write off this conversation as a loss and leave.

"This isn't my first rodeo," Bill said. "But hey, thanks for coming back up just to patronize me. It's really what I needed tonight."

To hell with leaving. Ford wasn't letting Bill get the last word in after he'd tried to do something nice. "This is your first time being a human in an alien dimension," Ford pointed out. "You said it yourself earlier—I've bathed hundreds of times since you last did. As an energy being, you've never had to make time for regular showers, or sleep, or exercise, or..." He almost said food but paused. He'd seen Bill eat as a triangle. Was that fun or necessity? Never mind. "You probably think those chores are beneath you—but your body needs them whether you like it or not."

Bill laughed harshly. "Wow, this is rich coming from Dr. Food Pills who bathes monthly."

"Hey! I've improved since my postdoc days and if you were half the stalker I know you are you'd know that!"

Bill didn't argue; he just changed his angle of attack and muttered, "'Eat better and bathe more,' says the guy who locked me out of the fridge and bathroom."

"I—" Well. Ford couldn't really argue with that. And he didn't regret it. "I know it's... not an ideal situation." The opportunity hung in the air for an and I'm sorry, and Ford self-consciously hurried past it. It was the thing one said in these situations, but it wasn't true. He wasn't sorry, he shouldn't be sorry, Bill was here on death row. "But I'm just trying to..." The sentence died. Why, exactly, was he trying to help Bill?

"Why would I want any help from you?" Bill's voice was venomous; and under the circumstances, Ford couldn't fault him for that. "Even if you didn't kill me and capture me! For all your talk of needing shelter and comfort when you're stuck in another dimension—you never accepted any help from me. But you think I can't take care of myself?"

Ford stared at Bill. (Not that there was much to stare at, except the top of a towel.) "I never accep—? You never offeredany help!" Not that he would have accepted it if Bill had, but just the outrageous suggestion that Bill had been—what?—charitably offering interdimensional refugee services that Ford had stubbornly turned down—?

"I never got the chance! You dove into the first wormhole you could find—you didn't even bother to say 'hi'!"

"Why would I say 'hi' after everything you—! Plus, you placed a bounty on my head! Within thirty seconds of my arrival!"

"So I got excited!" Bill uncurled just enough to shrug. "Anyway, the bounty was to bring you to me alive! C'mon, Stanford, I know you steered away from the frats in college, but you know what a little friendly hazing is, right?"

Flabbergasted, Ford echoed, "'Hazing'?" And then, even more disbelieving, "'Friendly'?"

"Sure!" One eye, almost luminescent in the shadows beneath the towel, peered over Bill's knees. As if Bill was as baffled as Ford and needed to see him for himself. "You built us a portal, you got cast out of your dimension into ours—you were gonna get a hero's welcome! You'd joined the gang! You were one of us!"

"I'd—spent weeks trying to stop you!"

"So?"

Ford gaped. Bill was a liar, he reminded himself—a liar, a manipulator, and a conman. He'd say anything to portray himself however he thought most useful. Ford remembered arriving in the Nightmare Realm. He'd relived it over and over—in hundreds, if not thousands of nightmares. "That was no welcome party. You were surrounded by an army of monsters."

"Hey, those are my pals you're talking about!" Bill laughed—a sincere, easy sound. It was unnerving, how real that laugh sounded. "Hate to point out the obvious, Sixer, but you've got a handshake that '30s Hollywood woulda designed a whole movie monster around. Who are you to judge appearances!"

Ford's thoughts flashed briefly to the Glass Shard Beach freak show he'd met as a child—the humans who'd called themselves "monsters" and who'd called Ford their "abnormal ally," the frightening friendly freaks who'd welcomed him warmly. He pushed the thought away. Bill wasn't running some kind of weirdo sanctuary; he thought making Ford think he was would win him some sympathy. "You were sitting on a throne. Made out of optical illusions. Like a self-appointed tyrant."

"Oh! You noticed my throne!" Bill's head lifted a little more. "Hey, I got that custom made! It's upholstered with the torn fabric of reality! Say, did it look three-dimensional to you? I'm told it looks 3D if you cross your eyes just right, but, well, you need two eyes to cross 'em."

"Wh—" Ford blinked, trying to remember what the throne had looked like. "Was it... not 3D?"

"No way! Do you have any idea what it'd cost to upholster a whole extra dimension in the fabric of reality? I'm not about to drop that kind of gold on a feature I wouldn't even use!" Bill grinned up at Ford. All Ford could see was the one eye and his teeth. "But hey, if you couldn't even tell the difference—I guess the autostereogram detailing was worth it!"

And Ford thought, he means it. Bill, mad thing he was, never thought that being Ford's friend and destroying Ford's universe were mutually incompatible. When he'd arrived in the Nightmare Realm, Bill hadn't been hunting him, he'd been welcoming him. Lounging on his stupid tacky throne, hanging out with his terrible friends, feigning a punch at the new guy to make him flinch before laughing and inviting him to the party. And Ford—sleep-deprived, terrified, paranoid—hadn't seen it.

And then Ford thought, he's lying. It was over thirty years ago—thirty-one, technically (time ticks ever on)—and Bill could say anything he wanted about what he would have done if he'd caught Ford, because he hadn't caught him. Today, Bill probably thought his comfort, if not his very survival, was dependent upon convincing his captors that he was so much less a threat than they thought he was. It's all a harmless misunderstanding! It was no misunderstanding and Bill wasn't harmless.

Ford got to his feet. "We remember that day very differently."

Bill's smile faded into the dark. "Yeah. Guess so." And then his eye disappeared as well as he curled in on himself and vanished under the towel. That wasn't like him. Ford had expected at least a little gaslighting.

Strange body in a strange land. And a recent death (metaphorical or literal, Ford still wasn't sure). Of course Bill was more subdued than usual.

Ford told himself not to worry about Bill. (He was unnerved that he had to tell himself.)

"Well." He gestured vaguely at the sandwich, decided against doing something nice like reminding Bill he needed to eat, and said, "Don't waste food."

He mentally chided himself as he walked downstairs. He'd been careless; he'd almost let his guard down in front of a friend who'd betrayed him. He'd been nice to Bill. He'd tried to encourage Bill to take better care of himself—when Ford was plotting to kill him, for crying out loud! Why? Because the human body made him forget this was Bill? No. Because Bill had tricked Ford into seeing him as a friend again, for just a moment, talking about parties and pals and—of all things—his stupid upholstery? Also no; that had come after Ford had offered compassion. It would have been nice if Ford could have blamed Bill. He'd like to think that he was being manipulated; it would free him from any personal culpability. But Bill hadn't done anything—except look miserable.

And that didn't line up with how Ford remembered Bill. Maybe that was what had thrown him off? But—he wasn't sure. Ford had spent thirty years with his thoughts spiraling around Bill, and now it was hard to think about Bill at all without second-guessing every thought that passed through his head. He was a recovering Cipherholic—and the fastest way to fall off the wagon was getting exposed to your addiction. He'd have to ask Stan for a reality check.

Another question gnawed at him as he kicked off his boots and climbed back into bed. When he'd been cast from his dimension, the portal was still functional, just uncharged. There was nothing Ford could do from within the Nightmare Realm to either reactivate or destroy the portal. Bill had seemed in too good a humor to have had punishment on his mind; and since Ford had been both useless and unthreatening, Bill probably hadn't wanted to recruit him for his help or eliminate him for Bill's safety.

So what had Bill wanted him for?

What had Bill wanted him for?

He'd probably just wanted to kill him. For no particular reason. For fun. Bill didn't need any other reason, Bill was insane.

Ford tried to convince himself that was true.

####

Bill had gotten careless. He almost let his guard down around a friend who'd betrayed him.

He couldn't really blame himself. He was a consummate extrovert with nobody to talk to. Captivity in and of itself was bad enough; but without his friends, he was... bored. That was the word. Bored.

But he was fine.

Bill's stomach ached. He peered at the food Ford had brought.

After a moment, he dragged over the six pack and popped out a can of cider. Nothing better to prove he was fine than some good old I'm Fine Juice.

That bathroom could be useful. He'd never be trusted in there for two hours unsupervised again, but if he mastered the art of the ten-minute shower and claimed he still needed an hour, that would give him some uninterrupted privacy. He could work a little magic in that time, even if he was limited to human capabilities. Most local female humans wore makeup, Melody probably kept hers in the bathroom; and in a pinch, there was toothpaste and shampoo; he could write with those. You could get a lot done with two mirrors, running water, a writing tool, and a human body full of blood.

Maybe he could call for help. Acquiring the supplies to get a call through to Hectorgon or Amorphous Shape would be difficult, much less calling any of his outerplanar pals; but Kryptos kept a psychic line open in dimension 46'\, if Bill got his hands on some candles he could reach him. At least, assuming Kryptos bothered to pick up the call. Bill hated the thought that his fate rested on whether or not the most annoying person in the multiverse felt like taking a call from an unknown number, but what could he do about it? If he could just reach the mindscape, this would be so much easier—

No, that wasn't quite accurate. He could reach the mindscape. He dreamed. He just... couldn't control it.

This body clamped onto his soul like an iron maiden. He couldn't just shed it like an old coat, the way he'd always effortlessly moved in and out of physical bodies before. He'd tried, curled up in the window for hours at a time, meditating silently, reaching for that point where he quietly detached from his borrowed form—but never grasping it. A couple of times the effort had exhausted him into falling asleep.

He knew his way in and out of human bodies—along with plenty of other earthling bodies and the bodies of aliens from countless dimensions. Leaving it should have been easy. There was no good reason for him to still be stuck.

But there were plenty of bad ones.

Three possibilities: thanks to the unconventional way he'd left the Theraprism, his power was still sealed away (if not removed entirely), and he was simply too weak to disentangle himself from this body's neurons; the reincarnation process had fully turned his soul from a triangle into a human; or, something about the Theraprism's machine locked souls into their new bodies. Maybe to keep the newly-rehabilitated from immediately shedding their body and returning to their old ways.

A lock that simply needed to be picked would be the best option—but with his limited powers, it was also the hardest to identify except via process of elimination. He could start by figuring out humans' own techniques for controlling their dreams and shedding their bodies and see if that helped him. (Part of him hoped it wouldn't. If it did, it would be all the more likely that he really was just a human—the worst possible option.) He was sure Ford had done some reading on astral projection at Bill's suggestion, maybe he still had those books somewhere. Bill couldn't just ask for them. Ford wouldn't trust Bill with them.

Not yet, anyway. But with time...?

Ford's little visit had been unexpectedly encouraging. He'd been a fool to ever offer Ford freedom and power instead of leaning on humans' soft spot for vulnerability. The whole woe-is-me routine was clearly working. Even if Ford had probably only pitied him because...

Under the towel, Bill's scalp burned. He could feel the alien contours of his head.

Never mind, never mind, never mind. This was all part of his strategy. This was his plan.

The point was—he thought, for just a moment, he'd gotten a glimpse again of the Ford that was his friend.

Bill could use that.

He'd keep working on Ford, softening him up. Ford had already brought food. Rookie mistake. So few humans realized that once they'd done one favor for someone, they'd set themselves up to make every favor after that a little bit easier. Bill would have Stanford Pines wrapped around his finger again in no time.

And until he'd worked his way back up to big favors, it might be nice to have someone to play chess with again. He was bored. He missed his friends.

He missed home.

He missed himself.

A lump formed in his throat. 

To drown it, he popped open the first can of cider, chugged it in several large gulps, and reached for the second.

####

(This is sort of the first chapter we've had to slow down since this fic started, so let me know what y'all think!)

[lowpolyanimals]

How are you doing?

hey! I am doing much better these days, PMDD is kicking my butt every month still but I am doing pretty well considering. I had to reduce my hours in work to help reclaim some of my life that PMDD takes but it helps a lot so I am very grateful I am able to do that. I got married last year and now am living with my spouse so that has been a dream come true and is such a big help too! I still have way too many hobbies and counting (thanks neopets) for my time available but I am slowly rotating them all and making the most out of my time finally!

I am really sorry that I was away for so long. At the time that I left, I was just so overwhelmed due to my PMDD getting worse and becoming unbearable, working whilst ill, trying to catch up on work / life missed due to ill health etc. and it all got a bit too much for me. Even the thought of coming back to the blog after a couple weeks was too overwhelming (because of how I was running the blog at the time). Later on I had also deleted Tumblr from my phone in an attempt to reduce screen time but it meant that I stopped using it completely and I regret that it largely contributed to me staying away for so long.

I want to give this blog a big old reboot and get it up and running again but I realised that I need to change the way that I run the blog. Previously I had this HUGE backlog of submissions that caused me to have to spend hours and hours one day of my weekend to get through so many submissions. I wanted to just power through until eventually I’d get to the point where I’d just be able to handle submissions as soon as they come in then and there but there was just too many and it took too much of a toll and I hit breaking point. :(

So I’ve decided to just run the blog now how I've always wanted to - by dealing with submissions as and when they come in and opening/closing submissions to keep it to a manageable level (I'm sure this is how other blogs do it, I think I am just dumb lol). I will also post them immediately as and when they come in and only use the queue if I’m going to be posting several posts in a row to avoid spamming. It just means posting will be a bit more sporadic sometimes that’s all. However, in order for me to do this, I am going to have to omit the backlog (for now). I can always go back to the backlog and shave some off if I can handle it (or please feel free to resubmit anything I've not already posted).

I’ll make a new pinned post in a couple of days explicitly explaining the new changes to how the blog will be run behind the scenes, although honestly it’s not going to affect much on you guys side of things, you will still see the same content and submit the same way. I just want to add a rule to say please do not submit more than one post a day and that I’ll open/close submissions to keep things manageable. Submissions will stay off until that post comes out so just bear with me (🐻) a little longer!

Just want to say before I end this really long post (they always get so out of hand lol) that I MISSED YOU GUYS TOO and I LOVE YOU ALL and your kind messages made me so very motivated to get this going again, thank you! 🥺❤️ I can’t wait to bring you more of these little critters we love so much once again :)

[getawayfox]

My favorite reclist of the year! It’s the best excuse to reread beloved fics and shout about them again. I couldn’t wait any longer to post it, so, without further ado: here are my personal favorites from 2023 and why I love them, along with a banner I’m really pleased with. 

Thank you, sweet writers, for giving us your wonderful stories. Wishing everyone a happy December and an amazing and soft new year!

I Fall On Grass by @tackytigerfic Drarry, T, 3.1k

I adore stories with mature characters and this one is no exception. It’s so charming: gentle pining over the years, throughout the realities of life and parenthood, written with such a light hand. And lovely worldbuilding of a slow life that they built for themselves, which left me smiling the whole day after reading it. It feels like a soft caress for my soul.

It’s Me or the Peacock by harrows Drarry, T, 4.6

Do you ever feel like reading a fun, lighthearted fic that will have you grinning all day? Look no further, this is the one. Picture this: established Drarry taking the plunge to move in together, except Draco is bringing his “avian third wheel” with him, adding a feathered twist to the mix. Harry can’t quite believe what’s happening and that’s not even the half of it. This fic is a delight!

Sun Shower by @moonmanatee Drarry, T, 6k

Meet Orkie (short for Snorkel), the delightful cat who loves his boy Harry very much. They share a special bond, silently understanding not to delve into the origins of their pasts. What matters most is their companionship and the comforting routine they’ve woven together. Now, enter Draco Malfoy, a fashion icon with phenomenal outfits, his mud-loving dog, Hubert, and a dash of mouthwatering culinary creations. Your heart will grow three sizes by the time you’re done reading; mine certainly did.

Birds Behaving Badly by @peachpety Drarry, E, 10.5k

Oh, this fic!! I swear my whole body was wiggling with delight when I read it – it’s hilarious and hot and so witty. Draco has a type, which leads to a fun case of mistaken identity, all artfully resolved with the intervention of a conniving seagull, Kevin. Brace yourself for some sassy Slytherin banter, side characters so vividly portrayed they’ll steal your heart (Goyle, I’m looking at you), and the enchanting backdrop of a magical Brighton in the summer. Cue the squeals of delight! 

A Saviour’s Guide to Manners and Decorum by @wolfpants Drarry, E, 13k

I have read every fic Wolf has written this year and, let me tell you, choosing just one feels like an impossible task – I wish I could include them all. But here is my pick, and it’s not because it happened to be my birthday gift. This fic is a gem, seamlessly blending humor with a soft, wistful touch (oh, and do I need to mention it’s also incredibly hot?). It resonates because Harry just wants to be accepted for who he is, refusing to change for anyone (as he rightly shouldn't!). Enter Draco, who is here to help, and not to “fix him”. Sprinkle that with a subtle hint of D/s dynamics, a generous serving of UST, and a sensual shaving scene, and you have got the perfect fic. LOVE!

I only want the ones I envy (I envy) by @porcelainheart3 Drarry, E, 13.5k

This fic is so stunning! A coming-out story with writing so clean and sharp it made me laugh out loud through (lots of) inevitable tears. It has a very competent magical inventor Draco, who wears sock garters(!). It has Harry on a self-discovery journey that feels so very real; with a heart-wrenching childhood flashback that will leave you shattered. It has the most supportive friends. It has banter and flirting and so many wonderful details (look closely at the newspaper in the fic for an extra dose of laughter). And let's not forget the most incredibly emotional blow job; talk about smut with feelings! It’s one of those fics that made me read the rest of the author’s catalog immediately (and trust me, you should too!).

A Time, Dark and Divine by @moonflower-rose Established Drarry, Draco/Ron/Harry, E, 17k

Oh boy oh boy oh boy, this fic is so scorching hot. And their dynamic is so complex: jealousy and possessiveness wrapped up in a delicious package of a boys' trip in Thailand. A stunning Ron POV filled to the brim with complicated history and tension, incredible characterization for all three of them, culminating, inevitably, in hot-hot-hot sex. I couldn’t get this story out of my head for days. If you, like me, like feelings with your smut, this one’s for you! 

Waking Up Slow by @sweet-s0rr0w and @ihopeyoubothstaysafefromharm Drarry, E, 22k

This story is so charming and whimsical! First of all, this Draco is such an utter delight that I fell in love with him right away. He’s so entertaining! The concept of Christmas in July gives the story a wonderfully atmospheric and slightly wistful tone. Add to it a very domestic and playful dynamic between Draco and Harry, top-notch dialogue, so many creative details, and an absolutely delicious and intimate sex scene. From beginning to end, this fic is so warm and touching; a gentle romance that feels as if it was enchantingly sprinkled with a cheering charm.

the first in line by @oflights Drarry, E, 29.5k

This fic is hilarious, mischievous, and sexy all at the same time. And also a little bit unhinged in the best possible way. It had me in its grip from the very first sentence: “When the clock strikes midnight on his 25th birthday, Harry is having a threesome with a werewolf and a vampire.” (chef’s kiss!) and it didn’t let me go. We have a reluctant and grumpy Veela Harry, an over-the-top Draco, summer vacation vibes, a magical yacht, wooing with a hot air balloon (and more!), plus an absolutely delightful non-monogamous background Romione. Gah!!!

Of Magical Beings Being - Magic by @rockingrobin69 Drarry, E, 30k

What’s actually magic here is Robin’s writing. It’s… wait, I don’t think I have words for how rich and full this world is, how special! There’s pining and soft angst and an unreliable narrator and exes to lovers, but somehow all that doesn’t even begin to describe what this story is. It’s witty and fascinating and soft and playful. It’s about loving the other person so much that you do the wrong thing because you think that’s what they want, even though it hurts you. It’s about manifesting them in everything you do until they come back. It’s about Love, about Happiness. It knocked the breath out of me. It’s unbearably lovely.

Winner takes it all by @skeptiquewrites Drarry, E, 41k

This fic is absolutely devastating in a sort of gentle way. My heart broke a million times for this wonderful, hardworking, cornered Draco – who’s looking after his mum – as well as for a whole bunch of beautifully written side characters. The story starts with a bet, and from there, it unravels with Tee's razor-sharp writing, infused with nuance that makes the narrative incredibly rich and undeniably real. If you're in the mood for a cathartic cry, followed by a sweet, happy ending, don't walk – run to this fic!

[cripplecharacters]

1/3 Hi, my question is about shaving as an amputee. My character is a soldier in the 1940s whose left arm was amputated. After a few months, he's learned to do most things one-handed, but I thought shaving his face might be something he'd have trouble with, since there are areas where you have to stretch the skin with the non-razor hand for a close shave. (The resources I found on shaving one-handed said to use an electric razor; my character would likely only have access to a safety razor.)

2/3 I thought it might be sweet to have his lover help him with shaving, and I wrote a scene where he reflects on how, although he prefers to be independent, he really enjoys the intimacy of having his partner do this for him, and it’s something they both look forward to. My questions are: A. Is it realistic that my character would not be able to shave his face well with a safety razor? (I mention him getting nicks and uneven spots in hard-to-get areas).

3/3 B. Does the scenario I described, with him enjoying having his partner shave him, seem unrealistic or offensive in any way? C. If it’s not realistic for him to still struggle with shaving about 4 months out from shaving, would it still make sense to have the partner shave him sometimes because they discovered how much they both liked it when he did need help? Thank you so much! I’ve learned a lot from following this blog, and I really appreciate all that you do.

As a disclaimer, currently none of us mods are amputees.

To answer your questions:

A. Yes, this does seem fairly realistic. It can be pretty difficult to shave many parts of your body without a second hand to stabilize, and the face especially has a lot of different planes that can make it even more difficult. If he had a remaining stump that he could bring up to his face to stretch the skin with, it would likely make it easier. But of course this depends on where his arm was amputated and how much mobility he has remaining in it.

B. This scenario doesn't seem unrealistic or offensive to me. It seems pretty sweet – your character has a lot of independence, but needs extra help for some things, ans his partner does it because he loves him. This is pretty common when it comes to a lot of disabilities, including amputation. Sometimes the extra help comes from a person, sometimes from assistive devices.

C. Again, it can definitely be realistic, but it also can make sense to have the partner shave his face sometimes (or all the time, or almost all the time) because they have discovered they both enjoy this as a form of love, care, and/or intimacy. Helping your partner with grooming or personal care things is something even non-disabled people do for each other. My partner and I like to brush each other's hair, and neither of us have any conditions that make it hard for us to do it ourselves. It's just a nice moment of togetherness and we're helping each other.

In summary: it makes sense for your character's partner to help him with something that is more difficult for him, even if your character is capable of doing it. It can be sweet and intimate for the both of them, and it is reasonable for the partner of your disabled character to do something for him as long as they're both okay with it. It can definitely be a way of showing that they both love each other and are okay with being vulnerable with each other.

Hope this helps!

– mod sparrow

[xob1tchs]

hi !! can u do angst for ethan?? where hes really distant & the reader thinks hes cheating because it really seems like it but in the end its all a big misunderstanding! thank you! ♥️♥️

seal your fate

fem!reader x ethan landry

warnings; sexual implications, jumping to conclusions, im no good at angst, litro wrote it and posted it so spelling and grammar errors!

a/n; I hope this is what u wanted, even though I did change it a little, or at least close :p and sorry it’s like super short but I’m really not good at tear jerking angst or like tooth rotting fluff. also title inspired by this

It’s been months since you met Ethan. Months of back and forth, and lingering touches at a frat parties. Compared to the troubles of your past, Ethan had become an easy constant in your life.

Through jokes of more, or Tara and her constant teasing – friendship had grown into a fit of butterflies in the pit of your stomach if he so much as glanced at you. Your friends swore it was obvious that Ethan was beginning to feel the same way; and you’d began to believe that. Now your mind is muddled with doubt, and your finger are wrapped around a solo cup a little too hard.

A ginger has her thin arms slung around Ethan’s neck, the boys back pressed to a door frame. Ethan’s hands are hovering awkwardly in the air, and he looks flustered. He really looks uncomfortable. You just can’t see past the way the girl fawns, glossy lips spreading into a charming smile as she teases him. Blush spreads across his nose bridge, and he does that thing where he chuckles, nervously tugging the hair at the nape of his neck.

Your fingers tingle at a memory the scene strikes, one wherein you straddled Ethan’s lap - and toyed with the curly hair in that same spot, lips slotted between his like a puzzle piece, breathing in his quiet whines and pleas for more.

You turn to the guy at your side, lips etching into a tight smile, before you bid a quick goodbye and head for the kitchen - tossing your full cup into the overflowing trash can and slipping out the patio door.

You’re not even out of the yard when your phone pings from your pocket, a text that has you frowning lighting up your phone

e 😵‍💫 : where r you??

and for the first time in months, you leave him on read.

Weeks of avoiding, and missed calls don’t seem to deter Ethan. He’s relentless in his efforts to get a reply from you, to the point that he has chad questions you and your reasons for ignoring his new best friend. It’s frustrating, and you actually want to laugh aloud when Mindy corners you in the bathroom, prying at you for an answer.

“He’s not as into me as you think okay, just stop pressing me” you rolled your eyes, demanding she not bring it up again. For once — Mindy actually listened to you. Or so you thought.

Walking along aisles and aisles full of textbooks and biographies, you let out a frustrated groan, glancing down to the paper in your hand and back up at the shelf. You squint at the spines, reading off titles and authors quietly until you reach the end of the section your book should be in. Crumpling the paper in your fist you spin on your heel, ready to give up when your slammed into a firm chest, and large hands wrap around your biceps.

Warmth fills your veins, and your body relaxes into the embrace on impact, eye lids fluttering closed when the scent of his after shave fills your head.

Your body collides with the books shelf, his hands caging you in, dark eyes glaring down at you. Rarely have you ever seen Ethan upset. The way his jaw clenched as he contemplates what to say to you has your breath a little uneven, and you can’t help but swoon, you’ve been without Ethan for far too long – even if you’re the reason for not seeing him.

“Why’re you telling Mindy I’m not into you?”

“ ‘cause you’re not Ethan”

“What the hell are you talking about”

“I saw you at that party with that girl, she was very pretty E, you don’t need to act like you’re into me - if you’re worried it’ll make things awkward it won’t - ”

Ethan’s brows crease, a low groan slipping past his lips “What girl? There is no girl” with the way he’s looking down at you, it’s almost easy to believe you could be with him.

“Yes there was. I thought we had some sort of agreement, or that our feelings were mutual. I should’ve expressed I’m not interested in sharing, that’s completely my fault -“

“Good god, Shutup with whatever you’re on about, and please believe me when I tell you; I’m not interested in sharing either, and whatever you think you saw was not what it looked like because I am really fucking into you”

Your lips part in shock, face flushing red, eyes widening as you stare up him, watching as his lips etch into the sly smirk you’ve been deprived of “you want me, you’ve got me” he mumbles, head tilting downwards ever so slightly, lips gently pecking yours.

“but! you can’t introduce me as your boyfriend”

you frown

“it’s gotta go like “this is my husband Ethan” or something”

[xxfrankiesteinksxx]

small details in the dnpc video no one is mentioning

okay, look, i'm gonna admit it, i'm a game/film theory girly and a whore for lore, so i pick at details i shouldn't be picking at, so here's some things i see in the video that i don't see being mentioned in theories/analyses. also keep in mind my brain consists of a single cell encapsulated in aspic (i know what the actual deeper meaning is this is just a bit of fun for me)

the thing underneath the piano - the camera falls off the piano in one scene and something (i still cant figure out what exactly it might be) is visible, oddly clear-looking for something underneath a broken piano in shoddy lighting (actually looking at it again it might be a corpse, is it possibly phil's old body?)

dan telling phil not to film him drawing the sigils but phil still filming - you might be able to also throw in the part where phil screams "NO" when the camera's on him sitting in the corner; they don't seem to want things to be filmed but it feels like they're obligated to record everything to some extent

phil's very explicit control over dan - this is to the point where he even has to tell dan what and what isn't food, and takes away water privileges for some reason (btw this is your reminder to drink some water) and overall very demanding tone when instructing him

SOFT AND NEAT - there's a lot of reinforcement of this, its clearly a joke but i'm overanalytical and will blatantly ignore this. there's heavy hesitation with any sharp object around them (when dan has to cut his hand, kill phil, take out phil's heart, mentioning razor blades when using the shaving foam)

dan still primarily uses his left hand - people have mentioned how he's been "fixed" but him using his right hand seems to be performative since he pours most things, mixes with his left hand, and even primarily uses his left hand to spread the blood (plus he never sacrificed himself unlike phil who seems to have died in potato stamps and been resurrected with perfect vision) there's also old superstitions that being left-handed means you're somehow cursed by/connected to satan, speaking of which...

dan has a much better connection and the ability to communicate directly with Him - he seems to be a conduit, possibly being used by phil to properly perform anything (which also probably helped with his resurrection and eyesight improvement), he has uncontrollable actions from time to time

the sigils themselves - what do they all mean? what could they mean in a bigger, symbolic context? anyone that understands them pls explain to my aspic brain

the entire place fucking burns down after the ritual is complete and they're embraced by Him - it's clear at least to me that the shed is set on fire at the end of the video, cutting off further possible footage

dan doesn't put blood on phil's forehead during the ritual - might've just been a slipup during filming but we also dont see the blood dan put on his own forehead once he arrives and theyre all standing up in the pentagram

also just a couple fun facts:

the number on the case file when converted to corresponding letters of the alphabet spell out "satan"

what dan says in his reversed clip is just "thanks!", nothing is really said in the reversed clip of phil opening the shed door its juts kinda a random noise someone made

Aaaaand some misc nonsense crackpot theories/ideas/thoughts/brain vomit that my brain keeps me awake at night with (optional reading):

if the demon taking them at the end is actually baphomet and not just some generalized idea of satan, then "mother" could be another way to refer to "him" since baphomet is portrayed as having both female and male characteristics (bobs n pennies)

personally this is scarier/more unnerving than the actual blair witch project for some reason

my bathroom sink is the one sink you cant ship

i want a dapc for those dolls they hung everywhere

is cataloguing all of the ritual setup part of the craft channel's purpose?

what was the reason for summoning him? did they bring him to our plane of existence to just let him absorb these two brink-of-twinks and then use their gay power to torment the straights?

oh that rope is just his belt thing not rope tying dip and pip together

i think this is a good wrap-up idk what they could do in a part 5 to conclude things better

[scenesniper]

may i request kevin nsfw headcanons 🥺🥺 (if you want no pressure! make sure to take care of yourself!!)

☆ kevin ayuso ; general nsfw headcanons

pairing / kevin ayuso x afab gn! reader

disclaimer / tit fucking, body worship, (light) spanking, fingering, orgasm denial

word count / 796 words

author's nore / thank you for your kindness and this request! i love kevin so this was no pressure at all, and i'm taking care of myself so no worries!

☆ kevin ayuso loves physical affection. he’s generally an affectionate person in and out, and having his partner be affectionate back as well? oh, he’ll love it. if his partner isn’t affectionate, that’s alright too as his goal in the end is to make you flustered! he loves to just pine over you and compliment every little thing about you, affectionate pet names as well such as “dear and love.”

☆ kissing with kevin is quite painful due to his beard but god, does he love kissing you so much. if you don’t mind kissing him with his beard, expect a bombardment of kisses everywhere on your face (that will may or may not leave you with lots of tiny cuts).

☆ kevin is a sensual man, he loves going it slow with you and setting a romantic tone throughout it all. however, when he can’t contain himself, he’ll keep going at it with you for hours on end til the sun is out.

☆ he’s the type to talk you through it as you’re taking his entire length. he’s bigger than average, around 7 inches nearing 8. he loves to especially guide you the entire time, his hands seeming to always be on you. whether it’s your waist or bottom, he’ll be caressing it.

☆ he especially loves it when you have your hands on him, especially you feeling his hand. he loves nipple play and loves to tease your nipples and vice versa. grabbing your wrist to run it around his nipples, he loves that sensational feeling.

☆ if you were to ask if he’s a tits or ass guy, his answer is both, he loves it all. tits? amazing pillow and especially loves tit fucking. if you have a big chest size, he loves watching you suck on his cock with it confined and practically trembling like its’ going to burst. the entire scene and feeling of your soft tits on his dick, that’s the fastest way kevin can ever cum.

☆ if you don’t have a big chest, that’s alright as well! he’ll love to cum all over your chest and he absolutely worships your body, always raving about it whether it’s in or outside of bed. “how did i get so lucky.” “i love everything about you so much, you’re so perfect love.”

☆ he loves when you’re on him and halfway in, his hands all over your ass. he’ll start off feeling just a tiny bit until both of his hands are greedily cupping each of your ass cheeks. he’ll spank you every now and then, but very lightly as to not cause you any intense pain.

☆ he loves to take the initiative but equally loves to just relax and have you take it. knowing you’re into this and watching you take the reigns, oh he’s melting for you. his most favorite position is cowgirl, (he just wants to be ridden) and having you deny his orgasm over and over again. he’s not a big fan of denying you your orgasm but if you wish that at times, he’ll be lost in ramming you at times, he forgets he’s supposed to deny your orgasm and just cum deep in you.

☆ he’s such a verbal man, he’ll whine and beg for you to give him his orgasm but he knows that he’s enjoying this. he makes a lot, and i mean a LOT of moaning sounds that could be labeled as embarrassingly pornographic at times.

☆ giving kevin oral, he’s a bit hairy underneath. he does occasionally shave but that doesn’t save him from the fact his hair grows fairly faster than everyone else. he loves it when you fondle his balls and your fixed expression on his cock, he absolutely loves it. he’ll be making so many noises, closing his eyes practically the entire time as he’s be petting and stroking your hair while you’re down on him.

☆ kevin giving you oral will be also hard as well due to his beard, so instead he resorts to his fingers. he loves to have his finger deep in you, knowing exactly where the perfect spots to stimulate you in and he’ll be repeatedly pressing and teasing that part.

☆ his beard makes him annoyed as he loves to taste you, lifting his fingers out of you once your climax is over, he’ll be licking all of your juice off his fingers.

☆ aftercare with kevin is him helping you clean off your body with a rag and then, cuddling you to sleep. his hands will be around your waist, tightly pressing his body on yours. you being in pleasure gives him pleasure, no matter what it is. and what’s most important to him is your satisfaction and happiness.

[avelera]

Avelera's Dreamling Fic Status Update:

Keeping Sanctuary (subscribe for updates here) - Giving Sanctuary Sequel follows Dream and Hob from the events of the altered meeting in 1689 up to the modern era. (aka, What if they hooked up after the 1689 meeting?) Current word count: ~7,000 words across several chapters. Realistic progress update: 1/10 complete total, Ch. 1 is about 1/5 complete.

(The rest are below the cut!)

Come live with me and be my love - Dream and Hob fall in love during the Regency Era when Dream loses a bet to Desire. Shenanigans ensue. (aka, What if they hooked up after the 1789 meeting?) Ch. 16 is at 2,500 words, probably about 1/3 done. Current plan is to wrap up Part 1 in the next few chapters then create a part 2 which finishes out their "1 year of marriage" on a month by month basis instead of following them day to day like Part 1 done. Probably won't be a separate fic though, just a change of format.

This Rough Magic - My take on "Hob rescues Dream from Burgess" with a twist that Hob ends up on Burgess's radar himself when he picked up some occult magic skills in the hopes of contacting Dream after 1889 and apologizing. Now he has to pretend to be friends with Burgess in order to get them both out of there, because Burgess thinks Hob can help force Dream to give him immortality. (aka, What if they hooked up after the 1889 meeting?) Ch. 9 is about 800 words in. Story is still very much in progress I just have a lot of WIPs, as you can see.

Joke's On You (I'm Into That) - The 1589 meeting goes very different when Hob proposes to Dream, who is so offended that he just can't let the matter go. A very angry, very horny competition kicks off between them. (Aka, what if they hooked up in 1589 when they were both at their absolute worst as people?) I have literally 40,000 words written for the rest of this fic. The problem is, there's big gaps in that first draft I have to fill in and scenes that need to be added. This might be my favorite WIP but it's also the hardest to write with all the smut scenes so it'll arrive whenever I can manage, I'm afraid.

Banana Daiquiris Ch. 2 - Comic-canon compliant (mostly) - Dream fakes his death to go on a vacation with Hob and Destruction. They end up in Tahiti. Destruction plays matchmaker. Hob doesn't know whether to thank Destruction or strangle him. Current word count 6,000 words. I've been playing around with adding on to this fic for ages. One of these days, I'll pull it all together.

Great Triumphs and Tragedies - aka, "Dream Accidentally Cursed Hob with a Normal Life" Fic - Dream learns that from 1689 on, Hob's life has been safe. Too safe. Improbably safe. Nothing bad or extraordinary or even terribly special has happened to him since Dream began to consider Hob his friend. He knows this because during his imprisonment, Hob's life became exciting again and suddenly went back to normal the day Dream was freed. Hob is not convinced that Dream is the reason for this, Dream disagrees. They talk about it. And fight about it. And some things that they've probably needed to talk about for a long time finally get said. (aka, sometimes the author just needs to write their weird headcanon into a 20,000 word fic that's almost entirely dialogue). Current word count: 19,000 words and about 80-90% finished, 3 of 4 chapters written. I'm hoping that posting what I've got will help push me through the final stretch. Real life interrupted for a bit though.

And for fics that haven't been posted anywhere yet (you can subscribe on my Ao3 author page for alerts about them):

Hob Amesia Fic - Dream and Hob are dating officially now in the 21st century when Hob gets hit with what seems to be a memory loss curse, shaving off 100 years of his life each day until Dream finds a cure. This effectively grants Dream a walk down memory lane as he is reacquainted with the Hob of each era and, in the process, learns how much longer Hob cared for him than Dream ever realized. Current word count: 40,000 words. Currently writing 1489 (1889-1589 are done) and re-writing the opening. It genuinely kills me not to have this one posted lol.

"Fairy God Marlowe" - 1589 fixit fic where Hob and Kit Marlowe strike up a conversation while Dream and Shaxberd are talking. Hob and Marlowe talk about plays, and faith, and salvation, and queer love, and what it means to live forever. Hob gets a second chance at a first impression. Current word count: ~5,000 words. Sadly, it's all dialogue in script format. I'd need to convert it into prose to publish which would be a slog. So it's a bit shelved until I find the energy to do so. No, I will not post it in script format, I'm allergic to the thought.

I've got a few other concepts kicking around, but these are the ones that actually have (*does a quick calculation*) over 100,000 words written that I haven't had the chance to post yet?? And it's driving me insane????

Anyway, I should probably pin this post for those curious lol. Feel free to ask me any follow-up questions, I love talking about WIPs even as they ruin my life!

[buckys-wintersoldier]

Corruption inside of SHIELD | Steve Rogers

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 -> Boyfriend!Steve Rogers x Girlfriend!Reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 -> You’re visiting your boyfriend at work but when the two of you just want to get some food there are suddenly agents working for shield but fight against Steve.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 -> 1.844

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 -> fighting scene but not much, tiny bit of angst, fluff

𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 -> 10 Years Anniversary CA:TWS | March 28 | Theme: SHIELD | The Triskelion, Compromised, Surprise Visit, Weapons, Favorite scene | @catws-anniversary

𝐀/𝐍 -> Thank you to @rogersbarber for helping me to come up with that idea.

Masterlist | Steve Rogers Masterlist

When you enter the kitchen, you shake your head, giggling. Steve just forgot his lunch, and you told him in the morning at least ten times to take his lunch with him. Sometimes you feel like he doesn’t listen to you, just admiring your body, kissing your face over and over again, and mumbling sweet nothings into your ear. You don’t have much to do today, so you will just bring him his lunch, and then the two of you can spend his lunch break together. But before you make yourself completely ready for the day, you make yourself a bowl of cereal and walk into the living room to watch one of your favorite movies. After the movie, you get ready and decide to wear one of Steve’s t-shirts and a hoodie, which actually belongs to him as well. Then you take his lunch, putting your lunch into the bag as well, and make your way to the Triskelion.

With your favorite music, the way doesn’t feel that long, and you can see the big building already when you smirk softly. Steve doesn’t know you will visit him during his lunch break to bring his food. You’re already excited when you just think about it; not only does the big building give you some excited feelings, but Steve also causes the butterflies in your stomach to go crazy. The two of you have been together for a few months now, but it still feels like you just fell in love with the tall, blond man.

Steve and you met a few months ago. He was just ordering a coffee and some food to the Triskelion, the most adorable building you have ever seen. You were always curious about what it looked like from the inside if there were lots of people walking around, and then you had the chance to get into the buildings and deliver coffee to the famous Captain America.

You stumbled into the building, almost falling over your own feet with the coffee and food in your hand. From the inside, the building was even bigger, and it reminded you of an office. So with your hands full of things, you made your way to the woman behind a desk. She looked like she knew where you could find Captain America.

“H-Hello. I have the food Mr. Rogers ordered. Where can I give the delivery to him?” You asked politely.

She looked up from the screen in front of her and smiled at you. Then she saw the food and the coffee in your hands and looked back at the screen.

“I will tell him his delivery is here; just wait a moment,” she told you, and you nodded.

Your eyes scanned the whole room; it was big, there were some plants in the corners, and next to them were a few couches. And some people were sitting on them, talking to each other, or they were just busy with their work. Some agents were walking through the room, greeting others, some on their phones, and some walking next to others.

The restaurant you work at is small, and there are not even as many people as you see walking or sitting in the hall right now. Then you see a man in gray pants and a light brown shirt walking in your direction. His hair is short and blond, he is shaved, and his steel blue eyes lit up when he saw the food and coffee in your hand.

“Hello, I’m Steve. Steve Rogers,” he said, taking his order out of your hands.

Before the two of you were able to say something else, someone crashed into Steve, and he threw the cup of coffee all over your t-shirt. You hissed softly when the hot liquid met your skin, and Steve immediately apologized. He was looking for a tissue to help you dry the coffee, which soaked the fabric of your clothes.

“I’m so sorry. Please, let me take you out for a co- maybe for a pizza?”

You nodded with a smile and dried your shirt before you wrote down your number and handed it to Steve.

“Don’t worry, and I would love to get a pizza with you.”

Steve’s smirk was from one side to the other, his eyes roaming over your body when you walked out of the building. Your smile was at least as big as his; you were going to have a date with Steve Rogers.

You enter the building, walking straight up to the woman you met for the first time in the Triskelion a while ago. The two of you have talked a few times. When you pick Steve up and she has a shift, the two of you gossip over some agents.

“Picking him up today?”

“No, he just forgot his lunch, and I thought I would spend his lunch break with him then.”

She nods and smirks at you before she looks at the screen of her computer, tapping something.

“He is in Fury’s office. You could go there; the meeting should be done in a bit,” she tells you, and you thank her before you walk to the elevators.

When you get into one, you tap the bottom, which brings you to the floor with Nick Fury’s office. He is kind of Steve’s boss, and he can be funny and a weird man at the same time, at least after things you heard from your boyfriend about the other man. When you get out of the elevator, you walk along the floor, looking for Fury’s office, and you see the door already open.

When you walk closer, you see Natasha and Steve in the room; they are talking to each other, papers are everywhere on the table, and you knock at the doorframe, not wanting to scare them both. They turn their heads towards you, and Steve immediately smirks at you; his eyes light up, and he walks closer to you.

“What are you doing here, princess?” Steve asks, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close against his broad chest.

“You forgot your lunch at home, and I thought I would bring it then,” you say, holing the back with food up.

Steve smirks and leans closer, capturing your lips with his for a short but sweet kiss. You wouldn’t mind feeling his lips on yours all day and his hands on your body while you get lost in his beautiful eyes. But Natasha interrupts your thoughts when she laughs behind Steve. He turns around, pulling you with him and turning you so you’re standing with your back against his chest.

“What’s so funny?” He asks with a raised eyebrow.

“You’re so old; you look like a guy our age, actually. But you act like an old man, grandpa,” she says, and the two of you burst out laughing.

Steve grumbles behind you, and when you look up at him, he pouts. You chuckle, standing on your tiptoes, and your hands find their way around his neck, pulling him closer until you reach his lips to kiss the pout away.

“I will leave you two love birds then. Have fun- but not in the office, please.”

Steve rolls his eyes playfully and lets Natasha walk out of the room, then he kisses you once again before he lets go of you and puts some stuff together.

“Let’s get downstairs; it’s more comfortable there,” he says when he takes your hand and leads you back to the elevator.

When the elevator reaches the floor in the Triskelion, you get into it and wait to get downstairs, back into the hall. You’re looking out of the elevator, loving the view you have, while Steve stands pressed with his body against you, kissing your neck softly. When the elevator stops a floor deeper, a man with two bodyguards gets into the elevator. Steve turns his head toward the men.

“Rumlow.”

“Rogers.”

Both men greet each other before the elevator gets further down. On the next floor, a lot of men get into the elevator. The next floor and another few men join you in the elevator. Slowly, you’re all pressed together, and Steve kisses your neck once again, leaning closer after looking around and seeing the sweat on someone’s forehead and the hands of a few men near their weapons.

“I love you. Don’t move away; enjoy the view, princess,” he mumbles, and you nod softly.

Then Steve turns around and faces a few of those men. He then says something, but you’re focused on the people walking around. Then you hear a crack, and the elevator suddenly stops. You don’t move, obeying Steve. You hear the sound of metal against metal, punching and groaning, and you see in the corner of your eyes some men lying on the ground. You grip the railing of the elevator, digging your fingers against it, while you hear Rumlow's voice.

“It’s nothing personal, Cap.”

“It kind of feels personal,” Steve says, then you hear another groan before Steve inhales deeply and walks closer to you again. “You’re oke, Princess?”

You nod, turning around to hide your face in Steve’s shirt. You grip the fabric tightly and pull him closer. Your boyfriend’s hands slide up and down your back, comforting you.

“Let’s get out of the elevator,” he mumbles, and he turns around to open the doors of the elevator.

When he does so, there are a few more agents running in your direction. He groans and closes the door, using his shield to let the elevator fall down before he stops it with his shield. You want to scream, but there is nothing similar to the tone that leaves your lips. Steve opens the doors once again, but there are even more agents.

“Where do those agents come from?” He asks more himself as you.

He then walks over to you, wrapping his arm around your waist, before he starts running and crashes with his shield in front of the two of you through the glass off the elevator. You're screaming, your fingers digging into his skin, holding him tight against you while you two fall down, his shield still underneath you when you meet the ground. It wasn’t hurtful, and when you open your eyes - which you didn’t even know you had closed while the two of you were jumping out of the elevator - you see Steve laying underneath you, smirking at you before he kisses you softly.

“What was that? Why did they come into the elevator?”

“They are members of Hydra. Nat and I found it out earlier, before you came with the dinner.”

“It’s flat now,” you mumble.

“That’s oke, we get some food on our way home. Nat will be there later too,” Steve says, helping you get up.

Your legs are shaking, and you’re clinging to your boyfriend and his arm is wrapped around your waist while you make your way to his motorcycle to pick up some food and drive the two of you home.

┏━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┓

𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨

𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐬.

┗━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┛

Taglist: @kandis-mom @sergeantbarnessdoll @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @blackhawkfanatic @armystay89 @suz7days @felicitylemon @cjand10 @lives-in-midgard @casa-boiardi @cevansbaby-dove @flstrawberry @capsbestgirl77 @bookishtheaterlover7 @rogersbarber @sebastianstanisahotmf

[mylittleredgirl]

m*a*s*h reaction post released from my drafts!! i don't know why i have been worried about making a Good Post when legitimately everything that could ever be said about this show has been said.

so i will SHARE MY THOUGHTS ABOUT SEASON THREE currently in progress:

ooooh war got a sweet budget increase in the off-season. pyrotechnics! helicopters! ACTIONNN BAYBEEEE

i'm falling more in love with everyone, details to follow

top of the list: trapper my bestie has been promoted to trapper my legit fictional crush 💕

don't get me wrong, in real life i would slap his face, but i'm with hot lips on this one. the hair, the smile, every time he takes off his shirt... take me to the supply tent or lose me forever

HOWEVER, i happened to notice that he is not on the header pic on hulu* and none of you talk about him so i must regretfully conclude that he will eventually leave the show

DON'T TELL ME WHEN

anyway i am cherishing him as one cherishes an old dog not long for this world

*speaking of hulu: i have now joined the henry blake appreciation society thanks to this One Weird Trick (reupping my hulu account for a month because i lost my shit after the dvds cut out at the climax of an episode AGAIN)

i went back to rewatch the episodes that didn't play on the dvds, and turns out a lot of them were henry eps (including the trial of henry blake and the one where he is waiting for news about his new baby...) (and also the one where he fell in love with a cheerleader but you can’t win ‘em all)

just in time to appreciate that scene in "o.r." where he tells hawkeye he doesn't want to be discharged so that he can keep doing real doctoring 🥺

"o.r." had so many good character bits!! even frank got some depth?? or at least an explanation for why he's Like That...

other eps i liked:

"iron guts kelly" -- felt like a follow-up to the one last season where hot lips got wasted and broke up with frank and then hawkeye and trapper had to sober her up, which i also loved! "we hate her but she's OURS to hate" is such a good character dynamic.

also lmao every time she cheats on frank, GET YOURS GIRL 😘

the frank/margaret thing is strangely compelling actually? it's like an inverse ship for real. will-they-or-won't-they but for breaking up. same energy though, like i'm glued to the screen rooting for them to fight instead of kiss.

"check-up" i was sooooo brave you guys making peace with the situation BUT THEN TRAPPER STAYED!!! i feel like my crush has been given a stay of execution

i don't know if i ship it per se but i really hope he and margaret hook up exactly once and literally everyone regrets it

i've seen some more episodes and have more thoughts but i need to lie down a lot first

oh one more thing:

i realize "m*a*s*h actors amazing" is not breaking news, but i'm specifically obsessed right now with how they are always interacting with props. i don't even mean the o.r. tools or scripted things, but how in every scene they're doing comedy while also moving crap around, pouring things, drinking, shaving, changing clothes, handing (or THROWING) things to each other, just making a mess all the time while still hitting their lines and comic beats. it's a master class in whatever that is.

anyway it's so good!!! more to come 💕

[eldesperadont]

hello and welcome to the start of my rough Despe/Hiromu recap essay! I'll go over their history in relation to one another. A big reason for this recap is to explain my fascination with the 10+ year long history of these characters, and why I, a queer person, is so drawn to it — this post will include links, spoilers and cover the first 9 years of their careers. If you have corrections or additional infos pls DM me!!

egg, (2010-2012)

Hiromu Takahashi and El Desperado started their pro wrestling training around the same time in NJPWs dojo – both passing NJPW's entry exam in 2009 and training for roughly a year till they officially debuted in 2010.

Desperado in March under his real name, Mikami Kyōsuke, and Hiromu later in August. And here we already have some key moments:

Takahashi's professional debut was a singles match against Mikami. (its on YouTube btw)

Despe's first ever singles victory was defeating Hiromu in said debut match.

Mikami is older and ahead of Takahashi, going on to have an impressive winning record over Hiromu, who only managed to get a sole victory over Despe during their time together as students. (two if you count in a dark match)

Hiromu genuinely struggled a lot as a Young Lion (dojo trainee), having been close to giving up on wrestling if it weren’t for main roster wrestler Tetsuya Naito, who took him under his wing.

So yeah starting off Despe had the upper hand.

This part of their career is the hardest to research given that 1.) the language barrier was way higher a decade ago, 2.) there straight up is barely any footage. So instead, I want to explain the emotional importance of the NJPW dojo background:

The time as Young Lions in NJPW is kayfabe canon. These guys are rivals but also teammates, live and train together, fight with/and each other, cheer each other on in their bouts with the seniors, carry each other to the back when they once again got beaten – these guys are close, they have to, it's them against the world.

And that is the case for pretty much all the homegrown NJPW talent. This system provides feuds with an emotional core; why would someone who was that close be so cruel to each other now? What turns brothers, best friends, partners into enemies? So much room for juicy rivalries with a real weight behind it, after all we watched these guys grow and learn, saw their highs and lows.

Also on a less serious note it's simply amusing to watch old stuff and see two guys that will be bitter rivals, who’s matches will get praise and awards - tag together in mostly fruitless efforts, stumble behind the curtain together and be so clueless about all the greatness they’ll achieve one day thanks to each others hard work.

Young Lions my beloved <3

oceans apart, (2012-2016)

As is custom with most Young Lions both went on excursion: Mikami graduating first, in 2012, and working in Mexico for a year as "Namajague" - Hiromu leaving Japan the year Desperado debuts on the New Japan main roster, in 2014, touring in Mexico and the US as "Kamaitachi" till August 2016.

Both worked in CMLL as heels, as is custom for foreign trainees, starting as masked wrestlers, loosing them in a stipulation match, and also getting their hair shaved at some point.

Here you have unmasked Namajague, who went on to rock a half facepaint look and had half of his hair bleached (in 2014, a trendsetter)

and here you got a young unmasked Kamaitachi (yes he was in a team with Christopher Daniels and Frankie Kazarian in RoH)

These are the years Mikami and Hiromu don’t interact in canon, but in an 2020 interview Desperado confessed that he kept an eye on Takahashi during the latter's excursion, cause of his success in Middle/North America and spectacular matches with Dragon Lee.

Love confessions, (May - June 2018)

Their rivalry was fully rekindled in the “Best of the Super Juniors 25” tournament, so let’s set the scene:

Takahashi’s successful: having won the most important championship for their weight division in his first year on the main roster. He’s beloved by fans and critics and a valuable member of his mentor's faction, Los Ingobernables de Japon.

El Desperado is struggling: unsuccessfully having fought for singles titles several times in the last couple of years. His only championship victories so far having been in the tag division, after joining Suzuki-gun, a shady group that tolerates him, but not without hurdles. The masked man debuted in 2013 as a cheerful honourable guy, but by now he was just a bitter, sinister bastard.

They will have their first singles meeting in 6 years, and their first on the main roster.

They are winking and nodding towards the fact that Desperado already has several wins over the younger guy, but do not address who Despy really is - officially Mikami Kyōsuke hasn’t wrestled in New Japan ever since he left for Mexico.

Leading up to the BOSJ Hiromu made a booklet in which he describes all of his possible opponents, Desperado's page is kept blank at first, but later Takahashi adds “I know who you are, and I hate you.”

Despy wants to impress Hiromu. He was one half of the IWGP Jr. Tag champs at that point and took both belts with him to the ring - he's also wearing a special mask, that is mostly white, a colour Japanese wrestlers tend to only wear on special occasions/in big matches.

A lot has changed since they last fought 1 on 1 - except one thing: Hiromu cannot beat Desperado.

Both didn’t shy away from using dirty tricks, but in the end Despy has the upper hand once more. As his opponent lays defeated in the ring the masked menace has this to say:

(postmatch promo) (the match)

Hiromu will go on to win the tournament and IWGP Jr. Heavyweight belt from Will Ospreay at the 2018 Dominion show, but the loss to his fellow former Young Lion means that the latter has the right to challenge him, and so he does, in this now infamous promo.

please watch the whole thing: link

(funfact, this happened the same night Kenny won the IWGP Heavyweight Title with Ibushi in his corner, the gays were EATING that day, in pride month no less)

Leading up to their confrontation Hiromu would post a video on his twitter playing the 'love me/not' flower game, landing on "he loves me" - which promptly makes him eat the flower in frustration

On the day of their match, June 18 2018, he brings Desperado a present:

A bouquet in a guitar case, a cruel call back to Desperados main roster debut back in early 2014: after Kota Ibushi won the IWGP Jr. Heavyweight belt at Wrestle Kingdom 8 a masked stranger approached the ring with a guitar case, revealing it to carry a bouquet of black roses for the freshly crowned champ (who was a lil confused by the whole situation)

It was the start of Despes unsuccessful run as a face and partnership with Ibushi (which you can read as the first man he tried to pursue).

The masked lad wasn't that fond of Hiromu bringing back old memories.

Their match is an all out war, both using underhanded tactics to keep the other one down, including Hiromu unmasking Despy, who shockingly doesn’t care at all - which is a huge deal, I'm going to quote Japanese NJPW commentator Milano here because he said it best:

“To a masked wrestler that’s your identity. It’s everything. But Desperado has it ripped off and then just puts it on like he was fixing his necktie. He was saying that this very essence of himself wasn’t as important as Hiromu or the belt." (translation by Chris Charlton)

But in the end Hiromu is victorious, finally ending his losing streak. After the match he has some interesting things to say:

(postmatch promo) (the match)

Life’s a b*tch. (mid 2018 - late 2019)

Hiromu's next title defence is in August 2018 in the USA against Dragon Lee, a match I still haven't been able to watch and probably never will. Due to a messed up move from his opponent, Hiromu lands hard on his neck, breaking it in the process. He somehow managed to finish the match but collapsed backstage, immediately being rushed to a hospital.

In the documentary RED HEADED REVIVAL Hiromu shared that he knew right away that something was wrong – he saw his life flash before his eyes and feared that this is the end of his career, but he decided against stopping the fight:

It took Hiromu over a year to fully recover.

That wasn't the only unfortunate incident though: in spring of 2019 Desperado broke his jaw in a deathmatch against his idol Jun Kasai. The timing couldn't have been worse: the highly anticipated BOSJ Tournament for that year being just about to start. Despe had to withdraw mere days before its opening.

Neither of them would make a return till late 2019. And their next actual confrontation wouldn’t be till 2020.

It was a sad time to be a fan of either - with Hiromu we didn't know till his return if he will even be able to wrestle again. And with Despy we had to witness fans being unnecessarily rude to him, ridiculing him about doing a deathmatch in the first place, eventho the injury could have occurred in any type of match. (if I remember correctly, Desperado even deleted his twitter due to the fan backlash)

BUT I'm gonna end this post on a good note:

1.) Despy's return marked the start of a new era for him:

He wasn't gonna apologise, he broke his jaw, so what? Shit happens. He wasn't going to pretend that the situation didn't happen either tho, hell - Despe returned in a shirt covered in blood spots, making direct references to the match he got injured in. (sth he talked about in this video) And his mask? Dons a fractured jawbone now, the cracks filled in with gold - reminiscent of kintsugi, a Japanese method for repairing broken ceramics with a special lacquer mixed with gold, silver, or platinum. The philosophy behind the technique is to recognize the history of the object and to visibly incorporate the repair into the new piece instead of disguising it.

2.) Hiromu wasn't giving up on his way of life either, making a spectacular return - the best was yet to come. Individually and together/against each other.

Stay tuned for the next part, that will absolutely also take me ages to finally put out, I'm apologising in advance,, anyways thx bye!! <3 👹🐱