#anyways my computer is completely dead

[monochromatiica]

why are laptop chargers so. expensive????????

[ruvviks]

PLEASE DO NOT TAG AS YOUR OWN OC OR PAIRING.

Nathan and Ruben share a bond more powerful than most; mutual understanding through past experiences no one should ever have to go through, and through past actions so horrible they cannot be spoken of. Their grief and the blood on their hands binds them to the STEM technology they created, which has alienated them from the rest of the world— but they give each other the comfort they have both longed for so desperately for years, and that is all they need. They are each other's counterpart; you cannot imagine one without the other, like two sides of the same coin. Through their pain, their grief, their desire, and their regret, they have become one.

anna akhmatova, the guest // bones; equinox // 'i won't become' by kim jakobsson // agustín gómez-arcos, the carnivorous lamb // by oxy // achilles come down; gang of youths // czeslaw milosz, from 'new and collected poems: 1931-2001' // 'extended ambience portrait from a resonant biostructure' and 'migraine tenfold times ten' by daniel vega // a little death; the neighbourhood // marina tsvetaeva, from 'poem of the end' // by drummnist // katie maria, winter // 'nocturne in black and gold the falling rocket' by james abbott mcneill whistler // micah nemerever, these violent delights // body language; we are fury // 'the penitent' by emil melmoth // chelsea dingman, from 'of those who can't afford to be gentle'

taglist (opt in/out)

@shellibisshe, @florbelles, @ncytiri, @hibernationsuit, @stars-of-the-heart;

@lestatlioncunt, @katsigian, @radioactiveshitstorm, @estevnys, @adelaidedrubman;

@celticwoman, @rindemption, @carlosoliveiraa, @noirapocalypto, @dickytwister;

@killerspinal, @euryalex, @ri-a-rose, @velocitic, @thedeadthree

[flymmsy]

Uno reverso where post-game Durge rescues Gortash from Bane’s realm and brings him back to life only Gortash is the one without memories this time.

[joelletwo]

[The Final sugi dying kitten betrayal -> utsuro-gin fight -> sakura boat imagination -> completely tonally consistent with these ginpachi-sensei closer]

now listen. u know i would rather die than post five nearly-uninterrupted minutes of a fight scene. so take that into consideration.

[tanicus-caesareth]

guarana drama, damage control

[aeolianblues]

I'm not an extrovert. At all. In everyday life, I'm a yapper, sure, but I need someone to first assure me I am okay to yap, so I don't start conversations, even when I really want to join in sometimes! It's just the social anxiety acting up. God knows where from and why I lose a lot of my inhibitions when it comes to talking to people about music. I don't know where the confidence has suddenly sprung from. I've made a crazy amount of friends in musical circles, either just talking to people about common music or (since it is after all in music circles) talking to bands about their own music. I let out a sigh of relief any time an interaction goes well, because in truth it's going against my every instinct. I wish I could do that in everyday life

[saeist]

“set me up with rin”

you slammed your hands against the hard wood table. scaring the shit out of shidou and aiku

“jesus fuck!” shidou puts a hand on his chest

“feisty. i like it!” aiku reacts, doing a little finger gun

“you didn’t say the magic word” sae murmurs, completely unbothered by your whole ruckus. you could say he’s used to it at this point

your eyes widened hearing sae’s response. did he finally agree to help you out?

“pretty please” you bat your eyelashes at your best friend, who wasn’t even looking at you by the way. he was currently reading something off what seems to be the latest edition of a sports magazine

sae silently flips the magazine onto the next page before looking at you dead in the eye. you watch his mouth open, ready to hear a certain sentence you’ve been wanting to hear for the past few weeks

“no.” he says flatly before turning his attention back to the magazine

both shidou and aiku break into boisterous laughter. only to be silenced by the librarian

“shh!” the librarian shushes. “one more ruckus from your table and i’m kicking the four of you out!” she whisper-yells, typing away on her computer

you dramatically slide into the seat next to sae, leaning on his shoulder as you reach over to tug his hand

“sae c’mon! you know i like him! so do me a favor as your favorite friend and set me up with your cute little brother” you cried out, tugging on his hand again and again

sae clicks his tongue in annoyance and snatches his hand back

“that’s exactly why i won’t set you up with him” sae grimaces

“and that is?!”

“that you like my little brother” sae says casually. closing the damned magazine and tossing it to shidou who was busy laughing at something on his phone with aiku

“that’s barely a reason” you point out, “would it kill you to help your friend that's desperate for a lover?" you add, dramatically falling limp onto his lap

sae pinches the bridge of his nose in sheer annoyance. he's heard of this dramatic monologue of yours for a hot minute. ever since he introduced you to his brother, you have not shut up about him since.

it was a mistake on sae's end. he shouldn't have brought you, along with shidou and aiku along for dinner back at his place but it was his mom who pestered him into bringing you guys over for dinner as his mother wanted to meet who sae's friends at college were

"i didn't know y/n-chan was into younger men" shidou quips, poking your nose as you glared daggers at his face

"rin is just like a year younger than sae, let alone me" you retort

"point still stands, y/n-chan" aiku chimes in a sing-song voice, "why do you like him anyway and not the hotter, better and wiser older brother here?" he continues

you dreamily sigh, still on sae's lap as you think about rin

"well first of all, he's a cutie. second, he gives me tsundere vibes but then again, his brother right here is the same kind so i'm pretty sure it runs in the family and... i guess that's about it" you list off the nice things you can say about rin from the top of your head, "no offense sae, i think you're hot and all but just not my type" you poke your tongue at your best friend who only flicks your forehead in retaliation

"that's it?" shidou asks, feeling a little anti climactic about the whole thing. to him it sounded like you had a good reasons on why you were crushing hard on the other itoshi

"oh! and the fact that he's 6'1" you clasp your hands together, "and also that he's trying so hard to be the star player at our local college team and i find it really cute" you gush

"he obviously doesn't have a choice but to try and beat his hotter and better older brother. right, rin?" sae nudges someone beside him.

wait a second, did he just call out to rin?

you quickly scramble off sae's lap, bumping your head against the table in the process

both aiku and shidou let out an "oof, that's gotta hurt" making you more embarrassed than you already are. you glared at them for a brief second before turning your head to the side to see rin looking all confused and to be honest, a little weirded out

"hey rin. what brings you here?" you sweetly wave at the younger itoshi in front of you.

from the corner of your eye, you can see sae rolling his eyes and mumbling "dumbass" under his breath. before you can smack sae, rin speaks up

"my brother" rin nods his head towards sae who only gives him a look of annoyance before motioning him to spit out whatever he came for

"coach says there's been a change of plans regarding the away games and wants to have a team meeting later at the field" rin reports all stoic

sae huffs, "you couldn't just texted me this information or?"

"you blocked my number, remember?" rin rolls his eyes, gripping on his sling bag.

you let out a little gasp and smacked sae on his shoulder upon hearing the news that your best friend has blocked his little brother's number.

"sae! why would you block your brother?!" you nag, wagging your finger in front of sae's face. sae swats your hand away before he attempts to grab rin for pushing him under the bus like that when you're around

"anyway, that's all. also, mom wants you home for dinner. bye guys, bye y/n" rin shyly waves at you before he trudges away out of the library, away from his brother's impending wrath

as rin disappears from sight, suddenly an idea pops into your mind. it's just a simple favor. the next time you see him, you'll ask rin for his help, and maybe, just maybe, it will lead to something more.

"that little runt.. he's gonna get it from me" sae hisses, pulling out his phone to probably unblock rin now that you know that he got his brother blocked. sae looks over at your face in case you were about to yell his ear off but instead he was greeted with a little smile on your face

oh no. he knows that devious smile of yours

"my dearest beloved sae.. put in a good word for me to rin, would ya?" you wink

[help-itrappedmyself]

Danny Punches a Clown

Danny is just about done with today. He’s tired and cold and he doesn’t know where he is. After running from his parents to an entirely different dimension, he feels he has the right to be a little bit cranky. He has barely any supplies and no idea where he’s going to sleep tonight, and all of that was before an idiot dressed as a clown started running around. 

Danny does not like clowns in general, but this one was pissing him off. The buffoon had shown up with a bunch of people in clown masks hauling guns, and they dragged him into an old warehouse with a crowd of people. Now they were all sitting quietly, downstairs while he and two other children had been taken away from the goons into a room alone with the man fully dressed as a clown. He’s got green hair, a purple suit, the makeup on his face, over what appears to be scars but might just be special effects makeup to make this particular clown even creepier. 

When the crazy clown started muttering about bats, Danny gave up on trying to see where this would go. 

“Hey, crazy clown?” He asked, standing up. He had interrupted the crazy clown’s monologue to his own computer, but the clown seemed too shocked to be upset about this. “ Look, I’m sure you have some sort of reason for all this hostage-taking and gun-waving, probably even for dressing like that.” Danny shrugged, the two other kids who are with him, two boys that are entirely too young for this situation, are looking at him like he’s insane. Which, valid, the crazy clown does have a gun, but Danny is already mostly dead, so he doesn’t have the same concerns. Danny makes his way over to the side of the desk that the clown is on, realizing that his monologuing to the computer is actually because he’s streaming something. Eh, whatever, not his business so Danny ignores it. “ However, I already have one fruitloop in my life and that is more than enough for me, so I’m going to have to leave now.”

The crazy clown starts laughing, full-on bent at the waist, arms wrapped around his stomach laughing. And Danny just wants to sleep, so ignoring the fact that this will put him on the video, he takes one more step forward and just punches the clown in the face.

He has to use his ghost strength for it, but he concentrates the ability on only his arm so he doesn’t completely transform. Like this, he is strong enough to knock that crazy clown right out in one punch and he falls to the floor in a heap. 

“ Right, well, you kids want to come with me?” Danny asks the children. They nod immediately and run up to him, he lowers them out the window down to a stack of crates below, waiting for them to climb all the way down to the street below before lowering the second kid, because he doesn’t know how sturdy those crates are. Once the second kid is down and they’re both running down the street, he follows. 

He’s about to try and figure out what to do about all the other people inside when the sound of a fight breaks out in the warehouse and the gunshots are Danny’s cue to run. He does not know enough about wherever he is to start showing off his powers just yet and he doesn’t really have enough strength to use them at the moment anyway, given the fight with his parents and his lack of sleep.

So he runs, and hopes that everything will be okay as he tries to find someplace to take a nap. And he forgets about the fact that he is going to be on that video until after he wakes up the next morning.

Now with part 2!

[wumblr]

the way house of leaves has been revived for a cult following is so funny. it's completely backwards! it was a music industry book. the singer poe, who made waves with her debut for having a few tracks produced by j dilla and then if i remember correctly doing a 500+ show tour, essentially tanked her career to promote the book (written by her brother)

not like on purpose but it was supposed to be a paired project and there was a remix with a book excerpt read by mark (the kyrie bmw sex scene) and like, i don't know, a tie-in website -- but then her label got sold or merged or acquired and the project was eventually cancelled after languishing in limbo for a few years. there's also an aspect of this where like, a texas oil executive posed as a friend of her late father (possibly true) in order to manipulate legal proceedings (?) to ultimately own her writing and recording copyrights post-acquisition (dubious allegation, which also relies on her having signed away both types of copyright to her label in the first place, arguably a larger problem spanning the whole industry, even today, still coming up in legal proceedings from kesha and taylor swift and so on)

anyway the album (haunted) and the book were both inspired by the same event (death of their father, tad danielewsky -- as an aside, a professor of theater at brigham young university). the album features samples from a box of cassette tape recordings of his voice. and also some fake samples from a couple of guys pretending to be tad danielewski with an obviously ridiculous accent and a couple of kids pretending to be her as a kid. and it takes place inside the house. the growl is there and everything i swear

it really was one of the top tier 90s concept albums (it was released in 2000 actually) but it is usually FAR too much to handle for casual listening and a lot of it comes across difficult for being so sincere and so unfocused (it is a love letter to her dead father where one of the songs is a list of places she's gotten fucked, because, uh, this is a conversation she wanted to have with him. shrug). and yet it's hard not to take it as it is because it's so consistently well produced

so i know nobody's computer comes with a cd player anymore but to read the book without listening to the paired album implicitly packed in the back of the book jacket is kind of like missing the whole point. there's a whole second act of rashomon you guys are missing. and a third act hello the etsy teleplays. ANYWAY the point i wanted to make is that there are a couple of things about the album sticking to the roof of my mouth as being somehow prescient. there's a distorted "why (are you) so serious" sample that would have come across VERY differently post-joker, but there's also "tell me something dangerous and true," a far more interesting variation on the theme currently circulating. and i'm speaking to an empty room here because it's only the celibate 60% of this website who is reading the book because it allows them a patina of literary validity and several nested unreliable narrators to distance themselves from the sex scenes, but haunted is very authentically, directly and exclusively written in first person and to be honest it fucks too hard for you guys. i'm sorry

[sen-ya]

Life After Info Post

[Click here to access the Life After Digital Comic Book]

Summary: Two years ago, a viral outbreak rose the dead. Considering how his life had gone up to this point, surgeon Trafalgar Law figured this might as well happen too. When a supply run into the nearby city gets intercepted by a seemingly reckless and impulsive former patient, the dependable routine Law had settled into in this new life shatters. He finds himself exposed — his body out in the infected landscape, his conscious clawing to define what he believes is right, his heart begrudgingly deciding to find a new home on his sleeve. Maybe there’s more than a virus roaming the new world that can bring a dead man back to life.

Content Warnings: Canon typical violence, zombies/body horror (but lbr I am not good at making scary things look scary)

Relationships: Luffy x Law

Update Schedule: New page every Monday/Wednesday/Friday

Page Count: [37 posted | 55 drawn]

Latest Update: [7/21/24] WOWEE did I get myself carried away this morning. I just spent 5 hours organizing my comics and creating the digital comic book pages. I could have spent that time drawing or idk not doing what I do for my job, but I cannot be stopped. Anyway I blocked out 30 pages of this comic last week and they include the most intense action sequence I've ever done in my gotdang life. Wish me luck because I am nervous about tying down all my drawings lmao.

OLD UPDATES:

[6/29/24] HULLO! I'm doing so bad at keeping my masterposts updated lately I am sorry. All pages of life after are tagged life after if you're ever looking between masterpost updates! Also exciting update, I finally have figured out all the different plot points i'm gonna be hitting (yay!). I got hung up on something for awhile that made me not wanna work on this project, but I'm back at it. I think we'll end up with 6-7 parts! I have probably another 80-100 pages to draw lol. Also i got the app Magic Poser and it's AWESOME and I immediately used it to block out sets cuz MAN I hate backgrounds.

[6/10/24] HELLO. I'm sorry I've been shit at updating my masterposts lately. It's easiest to do from my computer, which I rarely use, and life has been happening. I also can't believe I bungled the queue and posted pg19 before pg18 i am very sorry 🤦 Eventually I'll have to turn this into an airtable base I'm sure, but until that day comes where I have like 100 pages of this comic we're stickin to the regular post lmao

[5/26/23] I got real caught up in doing summer of lawlu comics this week and this is the first week since the first week of April I haven't drawn new Life After pages and it feels weird 🙊

[5/19/24] More Luffy backstory comin' this week! :^)

[5/12/24] Updating now so get myself on schedule to update on Sundays like I had been with my other comic master post!

[5/8/24] Thank you to everyone who's liked/reblogged/comment on the first few pages!! It means the world to me that anyone's reading my silly little comics.

[4/28/24] HULLO. It’s happeninnng. I’ve spent the last few weeks working on this comic, and I gotta make this post so I can start queuing pages & link this in them! This is the most like….legit? Comic endeavor I’ve undertaken perhaps….ever. I’m very nervous about committing to how long it will need to be lol. This story is dear to my heart — zombie content is kind of my very favorite. I’ve always found it to be a great backdrop for exploring themes like grief, coping with change, community, and learning to live again. It’ll be a long haul but I hope you’ll ride it out with me!! Tomorrow I’ll be posting the first two pages. After that a page will post every Monday/Wednesday/Friday. As of this post I’ve completed over 20 pages so that I have a good lead on what’s posting and continuing to write, so I’m hopeful that’s a cadence I’ll be able to maintain. I’ll update this post weekly to include the most recent pages the way I do with my main comics master post. All pages will be tagged 'Life After' and I'll tag any pages with zombies in them with 'zombie' for blacklisting etc.

[madddays]

camera shy

pairing: yoongi x reader (f) summary: after his last Oakland show, you carve out a little alone time with your husband, away from the stage lights and the cameras and the million people who always seem to be around rating/genre: explicit // fluff + smut + slice of life-ish (it’s a tour fic!) + an attempt at humour warnings: smut -- oral + fingering (f receiving), missionary, unprotected sex (they’re married it’s fine), terribly thought-out plot note: hello!!! i haven’t written anything in this format in a long time (poetry is my medium of choice) so pls be gentle!! also this is set in what is the “current timeline” but is of course fictional and i took every creative liberty i could :) also there was supposed to be a little bit at the end that i cut out bc reader was getting a little too cuckoo but that’s where the title came from and i couldn’t think of another. okay. anyway. 

Being on tour is exhausting.

You’re not sure you have the right to complain – you’re not the one performing high-energy shows in sold out arenas every night. But you are lifting your share of your husband’s emotional weight as he does his solo tour. His first solo tour, as is stressed to you. 

And you’re dodging cameras left and right. While it was impossible for you to stay out of the picture completely — the team at HYBE had convinced you that there was no need to hide your presence — being an idol’s wife didn’t really make you the most… sympathetic character. 

So you try to keep the complaining to a minimum. 

“If I have to duck out of one more cameraman’s way today…” you grumble under your breath. Sejin laughs. 

“There’s only so long they can spend in your room,” he placates. “And tomorrow you’ll have use of the business centre again.”

You harrumph. Fucking businesspeople using the business centre for their business shit. Hunkering down over your laptop again, you attempt once more to read over the article you needed to finish editing tonight. You’re finally making a little headway, getting into the groove, and then —

“That’s it!” you snap in English, frantically trying to catch the open water bottle that almost spilled all over your computer. The culprit, a man looking through the lens of his giant stupid camera on his giant stupid tripod, glances at you with a bored expression. 

“Whoops,” he says lightly, wheeling the contraption slightly to the left of where he’d bumped the desk. “Should probably keep that closed.”

You see red. Just as you’re about to toss this man and his equipment out the 50th story window, your husband appears. 

“Jagiya,” Yoongi murmurs to you, placing a grounding hand at the side of your face. You instantly relax about fifty percent. “I’m sorry, just the rest of the afternoon.”

You look up at him, at his soft pleading face. He’s turned away from the filming crew, hiding both his expression and yours. You relax the rest of the way, resting in his palm, a little guilt creeping in. 

It’s not his fault. Obviously, everything was going to be filmed — a BTS member’s first solo tour. There was going to be a documentary, and like it or not, you were going to be in it. As marginally as possible, everyone had insisted, but you couldn’t afford to look bad. Unfortunate that the filming crew was full of a bunch of dicks who didn’t give a shit about anyone who wasn’t the star. “No,” you shake your head, “I’m sorry. I know you hate this as much as I do, probably more. I’ll try to be good.”

At this, Yoongi smiles, shoulders jerking with a laugh. “I’m not asking for a miracle,” he teases. “Just a little patience.” You roll your eyes. You can behave. 

Just then, the same nimrod shoots a look at you, almost goading, as Sejin picks up your laptop and its accessories so the Christopher Nolan wannabe can put some more douchebag equipment where it just was. You look Yoongi straight in the eyes, dead serious. “If that man crosses me one more time, I’m going to kill him. And I’m going to film it with his stupid fucking camera.”

--------------- xxx ---------------

Most people expect you to be ecstatic about the proximity to free tickets that being married to Yoongi brings. And you love watching him perform. Up on the stage, in his element. He’s never more radiant than when he’s singing and rapping, leaning in close to the edge of the stage so he can look into the fans’ eyes — gloss, a fitting name for the shining star you see giving his all. 

And the confidence is incredibly sexy. So you have a competency kink, sue you. 

But god is it tiring being there. Even in the nosebleeds, or in the VIP box. You can’t exactly abandon Yoongi afterwards, so you have to make your way discreetly backstage with the security team, and then you wait through the undressing and the debriefing and the security checks and the filming. Sometimes the media circus. Only then can you sneak into a car with him and head back to the hotel. 

So you stay behind tonight. It’s the last day of the American leg, and you’ve already seen a few spectacular shows. You have your own life, your own responsibilities. Which includes deadlines. 

You were able to come with Yoongi for this leg of the tour because you’d promised your boss an exclusive — first dibs on Agust D’s experience touring in the U.S. While you wouldn’t be allowed to take part in the spread (a very clear conflict of interest, no bueno) you’re excited for it. The potential of the photoshoot alone is making your head spin. 

But part of the deal was also to keep working. The list of articles your Senior Editor ass has to go over is slowly dwindling, this feature on Korea’s impact on global fashion getting to the finish line. 

“Yes!” you exclaim, throwing your hands up in the now blessedly empty hotel room. Email with the finished article sent, you roll your chair to look straight into the little camera that’s trained on the desk Yoongi’s claimed and flip it the bird. 

Job done and borderline invasive filming (it’s only on when Yoongi decides to get some working shots for them, but still) disrespected, there’s not much left to do but wait. 

When the third time cycling through all your social media apps doesn’t provide any groundbreaking entertainment, you decide to call down to reception for some reading material. It’s not technically work if you’re just reading a dozen trashy ‘Who Wore It Best?’ segments. “Anne Hathaway, hwaiting!” you mutter to yourself.

--------------- xxx ---------------

A couple hours later, you’re still thoroughly immersed in your magazines and your music, completely missing the cacophony in the hallway. The knock on your door startles you so thoroughly you hit your head against the headboard. 

“Unnie, are you okay?” asks Ari, one of the stylists. “I was coming to call you to eat!”

“Oh, you’re all back! One sec!” You scramble off the bed, excited to see the aftermath of the show. You barely remember to put on a pair of pants before rushing out the door, Ari’s surprised face greeting you. “Thanks, Ari-yah,” you grin, locking arms with her. “How was the show?”

“It was great! Oppa is always good, but tonight he was especially energetic.” Her face screws up a little. “He ripped another one of the jackets, though.”

An inconvenience to her, but you don’t share the irritation. Yoongi’s broad shoulders busting his clothes, yum. “Oh,” you say anyway, your sympathy unconvincing, “that’s annoying.” Ari snorts.

“Sure. At least it’s new costumes for the next leg. We’ll refit them.”

You practically vibrate with excitement at that. “I haven’t seen them yet! I’m sure you all did an awesome job!” 

She blushes. “I think it’ll be good! They’re not totally finalized yet, but I’ll send you a ton of pictures.” Her eye drops in a wink, making you giggle delightedly. 

Dinner is a buffet in one of the conference rooms of your beloved business centre. One of the security team members escorts you down with a group of the staff, but most people had gone down earlier, apparently very hungry. Yoongi among them. As you approach the doors, you hear someone complaining to him that they should’ve done this at a restaurant and where is his sense of celebration.

“Come on,” you hear him grumble. “It’s not like the entire tour is over. We can all go out tomorrow.”

You snort. “And then tomorrow you’ll say ‘tomorrow never comes’.” If it were happening to someone else, you’d never let them live down how quickly their husband’s head snapped towards them, but you make an exception because yours is so cute. 

Despite his enthusiastic surprise, he doesn’t miss a beat. “Great, now I have to come up with a new excuse. Thanks for that,” he rolls his eyes, but immediately swaps the empty plate you grab with the one he was filling up for himself, no room to argue. Your giddy mood sours a little when you catch sight of the filming crew again. 

Yoongi holds your hand over his bouncing knee and the two of you sneak food off and onto each other’s plates. The mood is bright and light, despite everyone’s obvious exhaustion (at least three people by your count are in danger of falling asleep into their food). You expect to see an extended shot of the staff and crew laughing and eating, a flushed Yoongi being plied with praise and encouragement, under some sort of pensive voiceover. 

And you’re right, because right after he’s done eating they whisk Yoongi away to do what is sure to be a thorough recount of his adventure in the States. You’re a little jealous that they get to hear all about it before you do. Fuckers. 

As the room starts to clear out, you bid everyone a good night and trudge back up to your room, planning to crawl into bed and wait for your husband. 

But when you open the door, he’s already there. Your immediate thought is that the air conditioning is up too high for him to leave his hair damp like that. Your second thought is how pretty he looks — sharp eyes focused on his legal pad, sinful hand flying across the page trying to get down whatever lyrics are thundering through his brain, cheeks flushed and pouty mouth puckered. He must’ve gone straight from the shower to his desk.

After a few moments he must sense your eyes on him, because his writing falters and he turns to you, a soft smile breaking out across his face. Your heart flutters. 

“Hey!” he says happily, pulling out his earbuds. “I was waiting for you.”

“Clearly,” you laugh, moving to perch on the table in front of him. He pulls your feet into his lap, putting his papers aside. You resist the urge to sneak a peek, instead asking “did I interrupt something?”

“No,” he assures you. “I got everything important down. You were right on time.” His fingers are drumming on your thigh like there’s still something on his mind, but you’re feeling greedy tonight, so you let it slide.

“Apparently, I was late.” His hair is cold when you ruffle it. “Let me dry your hair. You still have schedules to make it to, can’t get sick.”

Under the gentle whirr of the expensive hair dryer and your hands in his soft locks, you coax out some of the details of the night from him. Stuff those production company jerks would never get to hear, wouldn’t think to ask about. How he was so glad to never have to wear one of his costumes ever again. The way he didn’t even feel the heat of the stage lights, the thing that drenched him in sweat (aside from the jumping and running around) was nerves. You laugh when he tells you about the girl in the pit who danced so hard the veil of her wedding dress outfit ended up on one of the lights. Your heart swells, swells, swells.

There’s still a restlessness about him when you’re done. You suggest he goes back to his desk but he shakes his head. “Let’s go to bed.” The first time in ages you can do so without the weight of anticipation and stress over him – hopefully it will settle whatever is making him twitchy.

There’s a spark of arousal in your belly when you feel his eyes on your backside as you change into your pyjamas. A breath stutters out of your mouth when you meet his sleepy gaze, getting a soft smirk in response. “Come here,” he says softly. “I missed you.”

In your eagerness to get to him, you collide with the bed a little too fast. “Oof,” you huff, making him laugh. He sits up to haul you into his side, another surprised noise leaving your mouth.

“Dummy,” he teases. “Not even safe in a cushy hotel room.” You kick at his shin.

“Quit giving me bedroom eyes then.” You see his eyes sparkle and mouth start to open and smack a hand over it. “Yes, we are in a bedroom, ha ha, you are very funny.”

He moves your hand away, unimpressed. “It is a funny joke,” he grumbles. Truly funny thing is, if he’d said it, you would’ve laughed. You’re down horrendously and he knows it, although you do your best to keep his ego in check at least some of the time.

Giggling anyway, you let him press you closer to his chest. You especially love him like this, warm and soft and silly and all to yourself. 

Yoongi turns over onto his good shoulder to face you, tipping your chin up. His gaze flits across your face, tender and deep, like he can see everything you’re thinking. You hope he can. You think he does. “I love you,” he murmurs, and he kisses you.

Your eyes flutter closed, relishing in this closeness. The way his mouth moves over yours, slow and deliberate. 

This isn’t a kiss just because, or goodnight or I’ll be right back, this is a kiss because I want to be touching you. I want to breathe you in. I want to forget everything but you.

You let out a sigh. Yoongi hums against you, a rumble you feel in his chest, and slides his tongue to meet yours. He shifts some more so he’s over you, braced on his forearm. It’s urgent now, but the way he licks into your mouth is languid, a creeping heat. 

He knows just how you like it, just how to drive you wild. Where you push and pull and grasp at him, he slows you, pins you down, makes you feel every second like it’s an hour.

When he pulls away, panting slightly, you realize – it’s been a long time. The last time the two of you had had a chance to get horizontal (or otherwise) had been the week you left Korea. More than a month ago. No wonder you’re so desperate for him, threading your fingers through his hair and pulling him back in, feeling his smug little grin against your mouth. 

He grabs at your hip with his other hand, and just that contact, his hand deliberate against the bare skin between your shirt and pyjama shorts, is enough to have you gasping.

He pulls away again with a low chuckle. “I’ve been neglecting you, my love,” he noses against your jaw. The warmth of his breath makes you shiver.

“You’ve been such a good wife,” he continues, sitting back on his heels, raking his gaze over you. His tone is soft but his eyes are so, so hungry. You reach for him, desperate to be back under his body, but he just smiles, closed mouth and innocent. “Shh, let your husband take care of you.”

He climbs back over you, settles his weight on you like he knows you like and hovers an inch from your face. His hair, longer again, hangs in his eyes, but you can see the mischievous shine in them. “Hi,” he whispers.

“Yoongi,” you whine. His smile grows even bigger, but before you can crush your lips to his he leans down and kisses you, slow and searing again. 

“I’ll make you feel good,” he promises, mouthing down your neck. You know he’s going to leave marks, but you can’t bring yourself to care. It’s been so long since you’ve felt properly like his. “Smell so sweet,” he sighs, opening the top button of your sleep shirt and burying his face between your tits. “Sweet, sweet girl.”

You moan, sensitive from his touch. “You’re –” he nips at you, drawing more breathy noises from your mouth. “You’re unusually talkative tonight.”

He smiles up at you. “You like it,” he says simply. And you do. You want him to keep telling you how you look and feel to him, what he’s going to do to you.

You start to fall apart under his mouth, his hands, his words. Soon your shirt is gone, tits shiny with his saliva. “Your fucking tongue,” you grab his hair, hold him in place, and his groan against your skin makes your sensitive nipples shoot fireworks into your brain. He presses your tits together tighter, sucking them noisily in turn as you grind up against his hardening cock.

“Taste fucking perfect,” his voice is so deep. Your pussy is already clenching, desperate for him. 

Yoongi helps you out of your pyjama shorts, wanting you completely bare to him. “Need to see you, jagi.” He settles between your legs, settled over his shoulders. His warm mouth over your cunt has you spreading them wider, eager.

“That’s my girl,” he rumbles approvingly, expecting the ensuing flood from your pussy. He uses two of his long, callused fingers to spread it all over, sliding almost coincidentally over your clit. Your hips cant towards his hand, wanting more than anything to have them inside you – fuck. He knows exactly what he’s doing.

“Yoongi, please,” you choke. It’s getting nearly unbearable, this desperation. You’re so wet, so sensitive, your entrance clenching around nothing.

“Pretty, pretty,” he says in a soft rasp, talking to himself. He gets comfortable between your legs and you can see his sharp, dark eyes zero in on your cunt, tongue wetting his lips like someone’s set a meal in front of him. You suppose you have.

“Ahhh-hhhh,” you moan, the first broad sweep of his tongue over your folds like electricity. Like he’d just set a firecracker off inside of you – buzzing and sparking from the tips of your toes to your scalp. Eyes squeezed shut, a broken noise comes out of your mouth. 

He keeps going, lapping at your pussy in an even rhythm and making low sounds of appreciation. It’s so, so wet you’re sure he must be drooling, and the thought is enough to have you clenching your legs together. “Careful, baby,” he says against your skin, but the vibrations of his voice are just fuel to the fire. “Watch me.”

You lean up shakily on your elbows, and the sight of him is nearly enough to knock you back down again. The mop of dark hair between your legs, working away as though you’re barely there, like he’s just using this to get himself off – except his eyes, watching you under the harsh slant of his eyebrows – shit shit it’s almost too much already.

“Fuck, baby, please,” you plead breathily, not even sure what you’re asking for. He’s already giving you everything you want. The close of his pouted lips around your clit has you jerking, the fiery crackle in your nerves making everything hazy except the places he’s touching you – big hands clamped around your thighs, face buried in your cunt, fingers pressed into the meat of your ass. He’d taken off the rest of his rings, but you can feel his wedding band pinching your skin slightly. Your matching one catches the light as you twist your hand into the sheets. “I need – I nee –” you break off, keening when he rubs a finger over your hole.

“Don’t worry, love,” he slides a digit in, feeling the way you clench around it desperately. “I know what my girl needs.” On the next stroke, he slides in a second finger, groaning when you clamp down on him. You collapse back onto the pillows, hips kicking up despite the way he’s pressing you into the mattress

You’d teased him mercilessly, way back when the two of you had started dating. “Tongue technology, huh? Do you have any songs where you’re not bragging about how good you eat pussy?” He’d only smiled, smug and amused, like he knew something you didn’t. 

Boy, did you find out. Again, and again, and again. The way he flicks his tongue over your clit, a fast, even tempo that has you curling your toes. Combined with how fast he’s pumping those long fingers in you, the squelching sounds absolutely obscene. 

“Another?” he asks, voice almost disinterested, betrayed only by how hoarse and low it’s become. You nod frantically, knowing you’re close. 

When he adds his ring finger, you know you’re done for. There’s a searing heat all down your body — your belly’s tight, your feet digging into Yoongi’s back with how tightly you have them tensed. Your face is flushed and sweaty and you can barely hear your own breathy whining through the rushing in your ears. It’s building, the wet slick of his tongue joining his fingers as your legs start to tremble around him, threatening to squeeze his neck, your hands finding their way into his hair to bring him with you when your back arches off the bed, and when he sucks your clit back between his lips —

“That’s it, fuck, baby,” he growls against you. He pumps you through your orgasm, almost struggling to get deep because of the way you’re gripped tight around them. Lets the gush of come slick his tongue further, shaking his head side to side as you ride out your aftershocks. You grind against his face, stuttering as the oversensitivity kicks in, whining when it becomes too much.

“N’more,” you slur, gasping when Yoongi eases out of you. He sits back on his heels again, his mouth, nose, and chin shiny from the way you’ve drenched him. 

He seems content to let it sit as he meets your eyes, popping his used fingers into his mouth, eyes rolling back and groaning at the taste. “Pussy monster,” you sigh deliriously.

He laughs, having sucked his fingers clean. Pushing yourself up to lean back against the headboard, you try to get your bearings. Your legs are shaking a little and between them is still sensitive, but away from Yoongi the cold air of the hotel room makes your nipples tighten and you want more. 

Your husband focuses his attention back on you. Your legs, open just enough so he can see the mess he’s made of you, and the way your skin is flushed, from your face all the way down to your chest. You shiver. 

“Cold, sweetheart?” he asks in a low growl. He pulls his shirt off and wipes his face with it, giving you an uninterrupted moment to ogle him. His broad shoulders, defined chest and arms, and toned stomach. The tattoo on his pec. The dusting of hair leading from his belly button down, down, down…

“Warm me up,” you say coquettishly, spreading your legs further. 

“Fuck,” he whispers, reverent. Even after all these years, you have the exact same effect on him as the first time. It’s evident in the bulge in his pyjama pants that you eye hungrily. He wraps a hand around each of your ankles, pushing them up to bend your knees, crawling up so he can settle against you and lock your legs around his waist. 

You let out a pathetic little sound at the feeling of him against your cunt. You’re still leaking, juices sticking to the insides of your thighs and probably leaving a patch on his pants. “Baby,” you whine. He leans down to kiss you and the grind of his cock against you has you gasping. “Need it,” you whisper into his mouth. “How do you want me?”

Yoongi kisses you one more time, chaste, and shakes his head. “How does my sweet girl want it?”

You flush even warmer. “Like this,” you say shyly. Yoongi smiles at you, fucked out and endeared.

Your hands find their way to his sweaty skin like magnets. Shaky fingertips tracing from his hips up over the flat of his stomach, hard muscles twitching as he sighs under your touch. When you reach his chest, you look up at him from under your lashes – he’s already looking back at you, pretty mouth agape. “The abs are new. I like them.” Then you scratch your blunt nails down them, feeling the muscles jump under your hands. 

“Fuck,” he groans, leaning into you. You gasp at the twitch of his cock, the head rubbing your clit. “You’re in for it now.”

“Then fucking give it to me.”

He kisses you again, and he’s just so predictable. Despite his big talk and the way he’s pinning your hips down hard, he takes his time, opening you up to him. Your husband kisses like he drinks – slow and savoury, loves the taste of you, the way you make him feel dazed and light. Letting out little satisfied noises in response to the way you kiss him back, the way you let him have his way with you. If it were up to him, he’d work you up like this for hours. Drinking you in. 

Unfortunately for him, you’re worked up enough. He’s grinding into you in tiny movements but the sensitivity from your prior orgasm, the insistent press of his cock between your lips, and the knowledge that you haven’t had him inside you in probably the longest stretch of time since you’d met is driving you insane.

“Take off your fucking pants, Yoongi,” you snap against his mouth, pulling at his waistband. He just laughs. “If you don’t fuck me right now –”

He keeps laughing, breathless and fond, but tips away from you enough to get his pyjama bottoms off and kicked away and hell yeah.

He runs his fingers through your folds and you gasp. Your hips cant up towards his hand but it’s gone immediately, and the sight of him jacking his cock with your wetness makes you whimper.

“So wet,” he murmurs, guiding the head to your pussy. The previous teasing mirth has vanished and there’s only the dark, focused look as he presses forward and – “Fuck.”

“Yoongi!” you cry out. His fingers hadn’t done nearly a good enough job of stretching you. The burn of him as he pushes into you makes your eyes roll back as you feel him pepper kisses over your cheek, down your neck to your collarbone. “Oh –”

“I must be out of my fucking mind,” he grunts, bottoming out. You choke on a sob. His big hand kneads your tit and it feels so fucking good you think you’re going to lose your mind. “How did I go without this for so long?”

He pulls out almost all the way then thrusts back in hard. “Y-Yoon – “ you whine breathily, barely able to make a sound at this point. 

“My gorgeous wife, in this bed every night, so needy. This perfect pussy — shit.” He sucks the other nipple into his mouth, buried in you so deep you can’t think of anything but the way he’s filling you so good. The way you hadn’t realized you’d needed. 

You’re blubbering at this point, beyond words, as Yoongi chases his orgasm inside you. Kissing every part of you he can reach as the sound of his skin against yours fills the room, playing with your tits the way that drives you wild. You come again with a shout, tears streaming down your face. 

“So pretty,” he murmurs, kissing the tears away. He’s still going, deeper now instead of fast. “Can you give me one more, love?”

You’re dizzy with pleasure and overstimulation, but he loves to come with your pussy squeezing him. “Yeah,” you pant. A kiss, slow and deep, as he pushes back in. 

Your legs are wrapped so tightly around his waist he can barely pull all the way back out. All you can do is hold on as he takes what he wants from you. 

“Shit, shit,” Yoongi groans, hips stuttering. He’s close. “Love you, pretty girl, so fucking good to me,” his voice low and raspy and warm right next to your ear. “Do I make you feel good?”

“Y-yes,” you manage to get out and you can feel his cock throb inside you, rubbing your g-spot and it’s enough. Your vision goes white and you see stars as your entire body tenses up and you tremble all over when it suddenly releases. “Yoongi!”

“Fuuuck,” he grunts. “Squeeze me just like that,” and he’s coming too. 

You lay there, panting under Yoongi as he softens inside you. The sweat makes you stick together where you’re touching, and anywhere outside your bed it would make you push him away. But you’re content to lie under him, soft, laboured breaths puffing next to your ear. 

“Should’ve used a condom,” you say hoarsely. There’s going to be a mess when he pulls out, you can already feel it. 

“Fucking raw used to be so hot,” he sighs, kissing your cheek. “Now it’s a chore.”

Your snort turns into a gasp as he pulls out. Reaching for his discarded shirt, he cleans up as much of his come as he can. You watch him, eyes zeroed in on the mess, licking his lips. 

“Reel it in.” You boop his nose and he scrunches it. “I really cannot go another round. You’re gonna have to drag me to the bathroom.” 

--------------- xxx ---------------

And he kind of does. On a good day, he could definitely carry you. But after three weeks of touring and a semi-vigorous round of sex, he hitches you onto his back in some semblance of a piggyback. You actually could probably walk, but you know the mood Yoongi’s in. 

He lets you pee, then comes to clean you up the rest of the way. Both of you wrapped in fluffy robes, he washes the sweat and tears off your face gently, brushes through your hair with his fingers. Puts up with your halfhearted whining about expensive skincare as he pats it carefully back onto your face. 

By the time you’ve dragged yourselves back to bed, the California King large enough that you don’t worry about the mess you’ve made on the other side, all the tension has drained from his body. The frantic energy of performing in a foreign country alone for the first time, melted away. 

He’s soft and sleepy when he hitches your leg over his hip, pulls your head onto his chest. “Thank you,” he mumbles. You don’t have to ask him what he means. 

You laugh softly. “Silly,” you say, drifting off.

[minawritesfanfic]

You are who you eat

Dexter Morgan x Reader

Word count: 2k

Summary: After finding out about Dexter’s after hour hobby you start to investigate him while teasing him from afar that you know what he is.

Part 2

Previous | Next

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

Finding a reason to go up to homicide was easy I had an email come in from the sergeant but I also couldn’t be bothered to deliver the brand new computers to homicide yesterday like I was supposed to. I carried the box out of the tiny office, normally I would’ve struggled to carry something this heavy but hauling around dead bodies was unsurprising a great work out. I used my elbow to press the button for the elevator and waited for it to come down, I heard someone come up behind me and turned to see my mystery man. Boy does he have great timing, I glanced down at his ID and under his photo was his name, Dexter Morgan. Got you, I gave him a polite smile turning around as I heard the familiar ding of the elevator and stepped inside. He stepped inside as well tucking his hands into his pockets, it felt odd being so close to someone and knowing except who they are without them knowing a thing.

His expression was calm but I could tell from the slight fidgeting he wasn’t as calm as he let on. Like freak out by last nights encounter, I mean I would be too. If someone caught me just as I was killing someone and there was a high chance they saw my face, I would be shitting my pants and looking over my shoulder for days. Though I have no plans of exposing his secret because that would mean bringing into the question why I was at the car dealership, why I hadn’t reported it then, or of I didn’t mention that part what was I doing at Ann Cohen’s house that late at night anyways. No excuse I could come up would lose their suspicion so it just seemed far better to not involve myself in it at all, if anything it would be easier to just deal with this Dexter person on my own.

The elevator dinged again as we arrived on the next floor, and we both stepped out with our left foot as if we were synchronized together. Our eyes met again and we awkwardly walked out one after another, I let him step ahead of me and watched as he disappeared into the tiny room in the back of the department whilst I began distributing the laptops to each officer and collecting their old ones. I hadn’t been asked to do that but I figured if I didn’t do it now I would likely be sent to do it anyway, and I didn’t have a reason to come up here twice in a day so it’s not like I needed it as an excuse. Doing it now simply saved me from unnecessary work later on, as I got to the last laptop I found myself at Sergeant Doakes desk. My final task in the homicide department for today, hopefully at least.

“Good morning Sergeant, I got your email what can I do for you?” I said as I handed him the new laptop.

“Morning, I heard you were the person to ask about getting into some encrypted files?”

“I am indeed, you can just give me the device and I’ll get tight to it. Is there a deadline or can I do this at my own pace?”

“No deadline as I’m not sure if they will be anything helpful on there, but please make it a priority.” He pulled a silver Dell mini 9, I set it on top of the others in the box making a mental note to look at it later.

“Alright I’ll get it back to you as soon as I can then, if that’s all I should probably go deal with these.” I said raising the box slightly bringing attention to it.

“Thank you, please get back to me as soon as you can.”

With all my task completed I adjust grip on the box and took one last look around the department before turning to leave, my eyes drifted Dexter’s little hiding spot. I was surprised to see him already looking at me, his eye remained trained on me even as I turned away and walked out the department. A odd chill went down my spine as I recalled the look in his eyes it was empty and unreadable, I had definitely crossed a line today. There was no need to make him suspicious of me just yet, I still had plenty left to learn about him. I stepped inside the elevator and rode it back down to my floor and walked back to my office, and quickly started on my next task.

I decided to ignored the laptop for now and followed through with other requests in the building first, I felt it was better to run around now instead of constantly going back and forth. That way I could work on the things I needed to in the office uninterrupted, so I set off to step up a new computer for the deputy chief, helped track down a suspect using their phone for narcotics, and updating the missing persons website to showcase the recent disappearances. I spent the first half of my day running around and was happy to sit and work in my office until 4pm came around, I sat back in my chair and just took a few moments to breathe. I hadn’t made any significant progress with the laptop and honestly it was starting to frustrate me, I didn’t expect this to be easy but whoever encrypted these files sure as hell knew what they were doing. So instead of frustrating myself further I I decided to find out just who Dexter Morgan was, looking him up in the system I saw he had no priors in the system and seemed to be a relatively stand up citizen, too good of one to be honest. I knew it was a facade, considering I heard him say so, you can’t be a serial killer and not have a facade. I found that you had a sister Debra Morgan, I recognized her name from the news about the ice truck killer, but most importantly I found your house.

At first I considered talking to his sister and befriending her but I needed to stay out of sight for now, it I raise your attention any more than I already have it would be long before I might end up on your table as well. Of course that doesn’t mean I wasn’t going to bother him from a distance, I needed some sort of distraction while I went through his place so I had a friend of mine give him a little surprise. I stepped through the open door of your apartment, I glanced around looking at the layout and simple decor.

“Dexter, you left the door open again honey. I thought we talked about that.” I said as I stepping further inside and found a repair man tiding his tools on the floor. “Oh hello, have you seen Dexter?”

“No, manager let me in. Someone reported a leak.” He said not even bothering to look up at me.

“Oh yeah, I told him to get things checked out I’m glad he followed through. Was everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything’s in order. You can rest assured there’s no leaks in your boyfriend’s apartment.” He finished packing and began to leave.

“That’s great to hear, you have a wonderful day sir.” He gave me an awkward smile and shook his head as he left.

I shit the door behind him and looked around, so this was Dexter’s apartment. I immediately put on gloves, after my research I realized he was In forensics so leaving behind my finger prints wasn’t ideal. I started by checking the books making sure there was nothing inside or under them, then I checked his desk. I rummaged through the drawers and found nothing but the usual clutter, I decided to check his computer since I was more likely to find something there. I debugged my way through the login screen and got into his computer, on the surface there was again nothing but I kept digging until found it. His search history which stupidly he never clears, I found that he had used a lot of police resources from the comfort of his home. Don’t you know that’s illegal Dexter? Thankfully some of the searches showed the names he looked up, I borrowed one of his pens and a sticky note then began writing down as many of the names I could and the days he searched them. If my theory was right these were likely murderers as well who will all turn up missing shortly after dexter searched them. Once I was done there I ventured into the rest of the house and found it all to be normal, minus the obnoxious chest in his closet which I thought was odd but I didn’t have my lock pick to get into it. There wasn’t much left for me to do so I figured I should probably leave incase Dexter also decides to visit home on his lunch break.

★ ✮ ★

Dexter had been on edge all morning, looking over his shoulder just waiting for the coworkers to swoop in and arrest him. As illogical as the thought was, there was no evidence for whoever saw him to back up their claims. Even if they searched his apartment they would find nothing, but an accusation like that doesn’t go away even if it’s proven false. People would still be suspicious and Dexter certainly didn’t need any more prying eyes when he already had Doakes tailing him everywhere he went. He barely managed to get him off his back last night by popping one of his tires, though hope Doakes truly bought his ‘addiction’ and would leave him alone thinking he was in recovery. Still even though no one came knocking at his door during the night to arrest him, which truthfully only made him more anxious but he tried to rationalize it and soothe his anxiety. Maybe they didn’t see his face, they definitely didn’t know his name, maybe they hadn’t seen much of anything, maybe this maybe that. Nothing was certain and Dexter did not like that, he had been careful to live by Harry’s code and the number one rule was to not get caught yet here he was. With a heavy heart Dexter stepped into his tiny slice of the homicide department and was greeted by Masuka.

“Oh hey Dex, there’s something on your desk waiting for you. It looks like someone has a secret admirer.” He said with his signature laugh.

Dexter quirked a brow and saw it, a brightly colored cupcake with a pin stuck in it that said ‘eat me’. He furrowed his brows and ripped the cupcake in half with his thumbs and found a note inside, ‘Roger was a scumbag, wasn’t he? Your secret admirer’. Dexter felt his blood run cold as he fell back into his seat, whoever it was that saw him knew it was him. He didn’t like this not one bit, he needed to find out who sent this.

“Hey Masuka, any idea who sent me this?”

“I can’t tell you that, the point of a secret admirer is that its a secret.” Dexter frowned but didn’t push it, there were other ways to find out.

Dexter was wrong, terribly wrong, whoever this ‘secret admirer’ was had connections with people all throughout the building. He had been asking all around the station all day but everyone he asked was adamant on not exposing their identity, it was like some sick game and he was losing it. His nerves were eased because at least it seems like they aren’t going to expose him for his dark secret for now, but Dexter didn’t like the uncertainty of not knowing if they ever would. This isn’t what he should be worried about right now, he needed to get ahead of this bay harbor butcher thing before they tied it back to him. It was only a matter of time until Lundy would catch on, but he also needed to work things out with Rita and convince her he was committed to his ‘recovery’. There was a lot more on his plate than he was comfortable with, Dexter felt as if he was starting to drown, if things continued the way they were he was certain he would go insane.

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

[terapsina]

Now that the writers and actors strike is about to begin being felt (and as we wait for those greedy billion dollar companies who are refusing to negotiate fair pay and conditions to give up) here's 10 of my favorite (all around best) fully finished older series you should definitely check out if you haven't watched.

I mean it, these are the shows with continuously great writing and a satisfying endings that manage to actually deliver on their promises.

-----

1. Leverage - (containing 5 seasons, or 77 episodes) - trailer here.

Hitter, Hacker, Grifter, Thief and Mastermind. Heists and cons. Stealing from the rich and giving to their victims. They provide... leverage.

Meant for anyone who enjoys bad guys being the best good guys, who will burn down the lives of evil CEOs and then gloat in the background. Very satisfying.

Hands down the best example of a found family trope I've ever seen on screen. Barring none.

2. Killjoys - (containing 5 seasons, or 50 episodes) - trailer here.

Space Bounty Hunters. Another case of found family trope. Bisexual space princess assassin. Quippy sentient ship. Green alien goo. Evil lesbians (but like... in a good way). The warrant is all.

More seriously though, it's a story about three killjoys and the bounties they go after. Initially. And then they have to save the entire Quad from some very terrifying... stuff.

Contains one of the best friendships I've ever seen on television.

3. Orphan Black - (containing 5 seasons, or 50 episodes) - trailer here.

Found family trope but with clones.

Low level grifter sees a woman who looks exactly like her kill herself and plans to take over her identity long enough to cash out. Except then there's two other women who also look exactly like her. And apparently they're all clones and someone's killing them.

Enter a global conspiracy. Human experimentation. Lots of clone shenanigans. Some serial killings. And a few murders 💖.

4. Person of Interest - (containing 5 seasons, or 103 episodes) - trailer here.

Okay I'm beginning to see how I might have a found family trope issue.

Former CIA agent gets recruited by a reclusive billionaire computer programmer who developed a... machine that can predict acts of terror before they happen. But it also predicts 'irrelevant' acts of violence that will result in someone's death.

Unless someone interferes.

I'd really like to spoil some stuff to get you all to watch this one. But I'm going to maintain self control and just mention that early on they get a dog named Bear. Bear is a very good boy. Watch it for Bear.

Also for excellent commentary on rights of privacy, government surveillance and what does 'greater good' even mean? But mostly Bear.

5. 12 Monkeys - (containing 4 seasons, or 47 episodes) - trailer here.

The very best time travel show out there. What starts out as a confusing mess of causality basically exploding, by the end of the series all makes complete and total sense.

(when that final timey-whimey loop slid into place and revealed the entire pattern it was like a choir of angels started singing in the back of my head. It was freaking glorious).

Anyway, a man from a post apocalyptic future travels into the past to stop a plague from decimating nearly the entire world population.

He has the name of the man who released the virus and it's supposed to be a single trip. One trip. One bullet. Simple. Done.

Except then things keep escalating, and escalating until time begins eating its own tail and it might start looking like the end of the world might be a better ending than erasing all of time and space from reality.

Because when our guys screw it up, they screw it up GOOD.

And oh yeah... found family.

6. The Good Place - (containing 4 seasons, or 53 episodes) - trailer here.

A self-proclaimed Arizona dirtbag opens her eyes and finds out that she's dead and got accepted in the Good Place. Except that as soon as she arrives the Good Place starts glitching, and she really, REALLY needs to become a better person before she can be found out and kicked out to the Bad Place.

Luckily her assigned soulmate was a professor of ethics and moral philosophy.

One of the funniest, most thoughtful and clever comedies I've ever watched. Ever. The characters are delightful and by the time the final minute rolled around I had sobbed my heart out multiple times (which, as we all know, is a sign of the very best comedies out there).

As for the question of whether or not this too contains Found Fami- Yes! Obviously, yes.

7. Avatar: the Last Airbender - (containing 3 seasons, or 61 episodes) - intro here (couldn't locate the trailer but it's basically the same thing in this case).

The four nations lived in harmony. Until the Fire Nation attacked.

It's been a hundred years since the beginning of the war when two kids from the Southern Water Tribe find a boy frozen in ice and wake him up. A boy who's able to bend all four elements... though not very well.

Enter multi-nation flying road trip (thank you Appa, we love you most of all) as they try to find teachers for the Avatar and save the world.

Includes found family (shut up), amazing fight scenes, the most heartfelt and vivid characters ever, and the best example of a redemption arc actually done well.

8. Love Between Fairy and Devil - (containing 1 season, or 36 episodes) - trailer here.

This one gutted me. I'm saying this as a compliment. But it had to be said. Completely destroyed me. I just haven't been the same.

A love story between an Orchid Fairy and the leader of the Moon Tribe that starts out with her accidentally releasing him from millennia long imprisonment and then takes you through the caleidoscope of all possible human emotions (it's a body-swap comedy through the first part, then a romcom, then a dramatic romantic tale, and finally a tragic love story).

But it's such a satisfying slow burn.

And it carries this... humanity through the whole thing that makes it so visceral.

If you're a romantic who's very tired of instalove and characters dropping all their morals because 'ooh, attractive person' then you've got to watch this. Because this story does NOT take the easy road there.

(my more extensive rec for this series can be found here)

9. Star Wars: The Clone Wars - (containing 7 seasons, or 133 episodes) - fanmade trailer here (it was better than any of the official ones).

This series did so much. Introduced Ahsoka Tano, and made us love her. Gave names and faces and souls to the Clone Troopers (okay, it's the same face but you know what I mean), to a point where their endings during Order 66 destroyed me just as much as the ending of the Jedi Order. And somehow made me both love Anakin AND be a million times more angry with him.

There are some arcs in this series that might be a bit weaker. But there were some... god, there's a reason I love Clone Wars more than any other series or trilogy in this universe. And I'm not even a little ashamed to say it.

Must watch for Disaster Lineage shenanigans; for the vod'e; AND for the Jedi (who did their best okay? They always did their best 😭💔).

(and on the subject of found family... do I even need to comment)

10. Nikita - (containing 4 seasons, or 73 episodes) - trailer here.

A rogue assassin that escaped Division - covert government agency that takes recruits out of prison, fakes their deaths and then forces them to become spies and assassins - has come back to take it down. Brick by brick if she has to. With guns and explosives too when that works better.

Contains soooo many cool fight scenes. Is full of incredible characters you'll fall in love with (and hate with) very quickly. And most of all has an incredibly complex relationship of mentorship and friendship between two women that holds both great admiration and betrayal, real care and love as well as rage and hatred, forgiveness, mutual respect and an unbreakable kind of bond that so very rarely involves even one female character on TV, let alone two.

(as usual, found family tropes up the wazzoo).

-----

In conclusion. We all know there's going to be a large space between seasons of our favorite shows now (and some shows that aren't going to survive it). Let's fill that space with some excellent TV we haven't had a chance to see yet.

And direct the blame for the wait towards the right place (i.e. the studios).

[chuuyasheaven]

5th day with chuuya?? I need more jealous chuuya content

"I’m gonna fuck you up, fuck you until you ask me for more.." - Hands up! by 6arelyhuman !!

Tags: Chuuya Nakahara / afab! Reader, PM! Reader, jealous! Chuuya, jealous sex, rough sex, slight dumbification, pet names, degrading / praising kink, slight choking, teasing, hickeys, fingering, soft to rough! Chuuya, ooc?, smudged makeup, overstim, might contain grammar errors, rushed, quite long lol, etc.

Notes: SORRY FOR BEING SO SLOW; first of all, my asshole of a father took my damn phone, so i have to write on the computer now.(until I get it back). Also depression has been kicking me in my gut!! Anyway, enough abt me and let's carry on!! HOPE YOU ENJOY MWAH !!;:)

Update(two days later): THIS SHI BE LONG ASF BUT IDC ENJOY THIS FILTH RAHHH‼️

You put on one of your most expensive dresses on for this mission. Your make up was perfectly done too, and all this not even for him!

Just because you had to seduce the target to get them killed, still, this was just unfair to Chuuya..

"Hey, pretty,", you heard comming from behind you, assuming it was the victim to be. When you turned around, you were right. The target was hitting on you, infront of Chuuya too, just like you planed.

“Can I help you?”, you asked with a seductive tone, the target smiled at you, completely ignoring Chuuya. “Yes, you could, by coming home with me, sweetheart.”, you couldn’t wait until taking his life, this was getting annoying.

“I would love to, handsome.”, you responded, cringing at your own response. You weren’t enjoying this, this felt so wrong, but you clearly weren’t the only one thought that.

As you took a quick side glance, you noticed how Chuuya was giving him the death stares. You played it off as if it was nothing, then you felt how the target put their hand on your shoulder.

“Let’s go, we couldn’t miss the fun now, could we?”, you didn’t want to say anything, so you just left with him. Chuuya followed without you knowing though.

When the Victim entered his car, while closing his door. You got ready to shoot him dead on the spot, but Chuuya did so before you even got the chance.

As the target laid there dead in the car, you closed the door and Chuuya brought you home on his motorcycle, not even saying a word to you.

At home, you walked into your room, not noticing Chuuya again. Sitting down onto your shared bed, you just let out a sigh. 

Suddenly, he came through the door unannounced. This startled you a little bit, but he just stood there. Feeling confused, you decided to ask him why he was acting this way.

“Look, sweetheart, I know this mission was really weird and all, but-,”, you got interrupted by Chuuya grabbing your arm slightly harsh. He pulled you up rather quickly and pressed you up against him. “What a-are you doing?-”, again you were interrupted by him.

This time, it was by a kiss, a kiss so gentle but yet possessive. It truly caught you off guard, but you didn't complain, he kept on kissing you.

Chuuya pulled away shortly, then kissed you again, harder this time, with more hunger and lust. While he was kissing you, he kept on walking towards the wall until he cornered you there.

Chuuya pulled away again, looking deep into your eyes. “I couldn't wait to finish off that bastard, i can't stand when someone takes something that's mine.”, he growled into your ear. “Guess I'll have to mark you up tonight..”, he added on, you looked away from that remark, knowing what he was talking about.

You felt your face being positioned back to look at him, Chuuya was grabbing your chin, as you looked at him you could see him smirking. “Unless you don't want me to, i won't force ya, darling,”, Chuuya said, hinting for you to whether consent or not.

Nodding 'yes' as an answer, Chuuya looked at you, like a hunter would look at it's prey. “Good, 'cause i won't be going easy at it either.”, he warned, hinting what he was about to do.

He went back to kissing you, his hands held you by your waist. You melted into the kiss, letting go once again, Chuuya licked his lips. “Be good for me, will you, princess?”, you nodded again.

“Good girl.”, Chuuya said before he went down on your neck, kissing down his way to your collarbone. You let out quiet but soft whimpers, which got him to smirk against your skin.

“Sensitive, huh?”, Chuuya slightly teased as his knee made it’s way between your thighs. As he gently removed the straps of your dress, he pulled it down until it reached your stomach, revealing your favorite bra.

Chuuya kissed his way to your nipples, sucking on them lightly. Your whimpers got louder, knowing your super sensitive there. When he was done with that, he patted on your thighs, you knew what he meant.

You jumped up for him, he caught you mid-air and held you by his waist, his grip was firm so you wouldn’t fall.

Now he was kissing your lips again, smudging your lipstick. Chuuya turned around and carried you back to bed, placing you there. Your arms still clung around his neck while he was topping you.

Separating yourselves from the kiss, Chuuya smirked at you while he ripped off your dress. “C-chuuya, this was-”, “I know, baby, I’ll buy you plenty more of ‘em, promise..”, he promised you.

The ripped dress hit the floor, now you were in black laced panties under him, and he was enjoying the view. Chuuya was still in his clothes, even his gloves, the same gloves which were pushing your panties to the side to finger you.

His fingers were inside of your cunt, making you feel good. Since you were wet anyway, he already got slick on his gloves. “Look at how wet you’re for me, slut.”, Chuuya said to you.

You felt your first release near, as his fingers were buried deep inside you, every spot was reached almost perfectly. When your knot snapped, you tried to warn him, but failed. Chuuya pulled out his fingers, looking at the mix of slick and cum stained on his black gloves. “Now you got my gloves dirty..but that’s okay,”, Chuuya claimed while licking some of it. “You taste so fuckin’ good, so I’ll let it slide.”, you looked at him as he removed your panties completely. You got desperate now, you wanted his cock to replace the emptiness inside your pussy, and he clearly knew because you were dripping slick again.

“Oh? Wet again, darling?”, you looked away in embarrassment and desperation, suddenly Chuuya was hovering over you again, grabbing your chin. Giving your lips a quick peck while smirking at you, you talked again.

“Chuuya. P-please..”, you said quietly. “Please what? Speak up f’me, princess..”, Chuuya asked in a mockingly tone. “Need you so bad, p-please,”, you slurred at him, Chuuya could feel his cock harden up at this. “Really? How bad do you want it?”, he denied you even longer.

“S’bad, I need you so fucking bad, please.,”, you paused for a few seconds, “I need your dick inside me, need you to fuck me, Chuuya..”, you begged, now he couldn’t eventually deny you any longer, he needed you now.

Chuuya looked satisfied with this, he slightly aggressively removed his pelt and freed himself from his pants and boxers. “Such a needy whore, hm?”He gave his cock a few small rubs and pushed it past your walls.

You slightly tense up at the feeling, but pleasure followed after. Chuuya then thrusted into you with force, rough and desperate, he was finally fucking you!

You grip the sheets, his skin clapping against yours, huffs and moans were heard from you. His dick reached all the right places, when Chuuya held your legs up to his waist, you could feel him even deeper inside. “F-fuck,”, he cursed under his breath, “You’re suckin’ me in, tell me, who’s fuckin’ you this good?”, Chuuya asked while he waited your response. “Y-you, Chuuya. Nobody else, j-just you- ah!”, you almost shouted when his tip hit your sweet spot.

“Good girl, seems like I found your special spot, right?”, Chuuya asked in a teasing tone, as he hit that spot repeatedly now. You nodded, he chuckled. Your orgasm started to build up again. The urge to cum was big, to you and Chuuya, at this point he started to grunt by every thrust. Deciding to add more pleasure, he started to draw lazy circles on your clit, now your grip on the sheets got more firm.

Chuuya’s thrusts got more sloppier and messy but were still rough, the overstimulation becoming too much for you, your knot snapped faster. Your sweet release washed over you.

After you, Chuuya came right inside you, filling you up. It felt like a lot, and it probably was, or it wouldn’t be spilling out slightly past Chuuya’s cock. Actually, why hasn’t he pulled out yet?

“—Well, seems like I’ll be needing to fill you again, princess. You might need to take a day off because you won’t be walking tomorrow..I will make sure of it.”

That’s very hot of you, Chuuya.. meow. ;3

IMPORTANT NOTE: I might need to pause this event because I’m traveling with my family! So I’ll be able to post like 2-3 fics before I go! Sorry that it came so sudden, but I promise I’ll be very productive after!! Until then, bye pookies!!

[scribblescrabbledepartment]

this one isnt my best writing (the story itself is goofy but it was taken directly from a dream so whatever) but i think the illustration came out good enough

[ID: an illustration of a dead guy slumped over on a table, decomposing flesh and slop all over the place. a guy who appears to be some sort of investigating personnel stands beside him, prodding his shoulder with a pen.]

story under cut:

I never really cared for livestreams. It always seemed like a hell of a commitment, sitting down and watching somebody in real time, not being able to turn my focus away lest I miss something exciting. They always seem to stretch on for hours, too. Who has time to watch all that? Well, I guess if somebody has time to stream it, somebody has time to watch. Anyway, that doesn't make a difference to me. I don't have time to sit around watching a four hour stream. I liked this guy's videos, though. That's why I decided to take a look.

I had no intention of sticking around for the whole thing, of course. I popped in a few minutes after it started to see what was going on. The title advertised some new game he was planning on sharing, but he hadn't started yet. I had stuff to do, and I didn't feel like sitting and waiting while he dicked around, so I closed out. I'd peek in again later to see if anything interesting was going on.

The next time I opened the stream, he was dead.

It hadn't been more than twenty minutes, but there he was, hunched over, face down on the desk. Lifeless. The chat was frantic. I could barely read the messages as they sped by, but I gathered that he'd been like that for a while now. Chilled and bewildered, I closed the stream again. I didn't know what to make of it. What do you do? What can you do? Unsettled, with a vague feeling of responsibility for the situation that I couldn't do a damn thing about, I went on with my chores.

I carried on with my day, feeling disoriented and unable to get the image of the dead gamer out of my mind. What the hell could have happened? As I mindlessly scrubbed away at the pan that had been soaking in the sink since last night, I wondered if the stream was still going. I wondered if he lived alone. How long would it go? Until somebody found him? Until his equipment stopped working? Hours, days? Would he decompose on the internet for all to see? Would people watch?

Unable to stop thinking about it, I gave in to curiosity and tuned back in. There was a woman in the frame now, sniffling wetly and speaking softly to somebody just out of the shot. The dead man remained still in his place. I gathered that she was his wife, and that whoever was in the room with her–aside from the corpse, I mean–was some sort of first responder. That was about all I could gather; the conversation was nearly inaudible.

A sudden wave of disgust came over me. I had no business watching this. A complete stranger's grief and horror at the loss of her husband, the undignified slump of a man who could no longer present himself, vague murmurs of their private life. I quickly exited the window and shut my laptop. I hadn't bothered to look and see if anybody else was still watching, but I didn't have to; there was no doubt that somebody was. Probably a bunch of people. I couldn't blame them. It was morbid, certainly, and invasive beyond words, but who wouldn't be curious? Interested, even?

As a matter of fact, I was curious. I was interested. I lasted a while longer, but the pull grew too strong to resist. Once again, with a hesitant hand, I reopened my computer.

There were a number of people in the room now, police, EMTs, what have you. Most of them were just milling about, but two were examining the corpse. Christ, didn't they realize they were live? Could nobody see the camera? Wouldn't the wife have known he'd be streaming? I nearly closed my computer again, disturbed by the unintentional broadcast of such a private moment, but something caught my attention. I wish it hadn't.

One man was knelt beside the body, poking and prodding and dictating notes for another to jot down on his pad. The examiner began feeling around the back of the dead gamer's neck, and as he did, the skin and meat began sloughing off in wet chunks, sliding away from the tendons and leaving clean bone behind. Nobody in the room seemed particularly alarmed by this, but I was dumbfounded. He'd only been dead a few hours, if that long! What the hell could make a person rot like that?

I watched as the examiner continued maneuvering the body around. In spite of his careful movements, the corpse continued to come apart, flesh sliding off like unset jello, skin opening up like wet paper to reveal caverns of pus. I couldn't see the wife, but she was still in the room; I could hear her crying. It was a funeral sort of crying, soft and subdued, not the horrified shrieks I'd expect of somebody watching her husband rapidly decompose into a pile of chum, but then, nobody seemed all that horrified.

At this point, I was invested. I turned up my volume, listening closely, hoping to pick out something that might explain the gruesome display, but with no success. The conversation was hushed, sounding almost as though it were coming from another room, and while I could make out a fragment of a word here and there, the rest was unintelligible. How that was possible was beyond me; the dead man had a fantastic microphone, and the sound had been fine at the start of the stream. As a matter of fact, even now I could clearly hear the sound of birds chirping and cars passing by–not outside my house, but his. Dogs barking in the distance, the footsteps of a jogger fading in and away. The background noise was perfectly clear. The chatter taking place right in that very room, however, was muffled ambient noise.

The impromptu autopsy taking place all over the living room floor was nauseating to watch, but I didn't have to endure it much longer. The stream ended without warning. Maybe his computer died, or somebody knocked a connection loose, who knows. I felt a sense of relief in knowing I couldn't peek back in again, but I also felt thoroughly shaken. What the hell? What the hell had just happened? I couldn't make sense of it, and I supposed I'd make myself nuts if I tried. I closed my computer. I had a feeling I wouldn't open it again for some time. I remained there for a moment, staring blankly at the wall. Then, with nothing better to do, I pulled myself up and got back to washing the dishes.

[auspicioustidings]

Ae Fond Kiss - Part 7

My Heart's in the Highlands

Summary: You speak with your kid and establish a new normal. A conversation is had with Johnny. Words: 2.6k TWs: mention of miscarriage

Parts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7

The drive home was silent. Your mind was a mess but you tried to slow down your racing thoughts and put your parent head on. It was so hard right now to be a parent when you felt like an out of control child. You tried to run through a script in your mind, a way to explain what was going on to Joey without bringing your own bitterness into it. 

The kid in question seemed no more willing to have the conversation than you were. He was staring out the window. He seemed exhausted. You could understand that, the emotional gauntlet he had been going through with his parents not even there to help… God you felt awful. 

“...let’s get the mega-ultra sundae” you decided, indicating to turn off towards the ice-cream parlour.

“That’s for like 20 people. Luna from school said her brothers tried to eat it all and they threw up.”

“How many brothers does she have again?”

“Four. One of them does football at uni, two are on the high school team and the last one just won a boxing competition.”

“Well I guess we’re about to embarrass Luna’s brothers.”

You glanced over to him and he looked to you, both with tentative smiles. This was still your kid, you were still his mother, and you were going to eat enough ice-cream that you’d both spend the evening curled up on the sofa feeling sick and watching bad movies. You didn’t know how you ever got so lucky. You could strangle both of his dads, but you could never not appreciate the hand they had in this brilliant boy. 

While you immediately knew the mega-ultra sundae was a mistake when the server struggled to put it on the table due to the weight, you both grinned anyway. The first few spoonfuls you just took the time to think about what to say. 

“Did you really think he was dead?” Joe asked, carefully digging for marshmallows.

“We both did, me and your dad. I think… I think uncle John might have known he wasn’t and I’m very angry with him over it” you answered, aiming for complete honesty. 

“Was the stuff you said about him true?”

You thought on that while you took a mouthful of what you had thought was mostly ice cream but was almost 100% whipped cream. You had told Joe all about Johnny even if you lied about just what he was to him. You had told him how brave he was, how loving. How when he got really excited you and Simon could barely understand half the words that came out of his mouth. You’d told him about his temper, how he would explode and then after need to nap it off before profusely apologising. And God was he clever even if he seemed like a big dumb idiot sometimes. He could make an explosive out of anything and on New Years he usually did. 

“Yeah. We never lied about the kind of man he was, just… it felt scary to tell you he was your father. We should have told you. We shouldn’t have hidden it because we were scared about what you might think.”

“What would I think?”

You could still hear Johnny yelling in your head. You were afraid Joe would think what he did, that you loving Simon even when you thought he was dead was a betrayal. Although now you knew that you had been betrayed it felt like such a stupid fear.

“I didn’t want you to think of your dad differently because he wasn’t your birth father. And I… for some people me falling in love with Johnny’s best friend after he died was wrong. I just didn’t want you to think that.”

Joey thought on that for a while as he kept working on the sundae which didn’t seem like it had decreased in volume at all. You hated putting all of this on a 9 year old. He should be telling you all about the football game and explaining again how he could build a computer in Minecraft, not considering how he felt about finding out a war hero whose death was faked by the military was his father. God you hoped Kyle hadn’t known.

“I think it’s ok” he said eventually as he chewed through a chunk of meringue. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. It’s pretty cool that I have another dad. Does he always sound like that? Did he really take on a whole town of bad guys and win with dad?”

You shoved another spoonful in your mouth even though you were feeling a little nauseous because if you didn’t try and distract yourself with something you’d cry. He was supposed to yell at you, he was supposed to be mad and turn off his hearing aids so he couldn’t listen to your apologies. But that wasn’t the kid you and Simon had raised. Yeah he could get angry, but he was so good at cooling off and moving on and fixing the issue. 

So you told him all about Johnny but this time in present tense, you both gave the mega-ultra sundae your best shot and then you ran to the bathroom as soon as you got home to throw up which your kid did not let you live down as you watched a bunch of superhero movies. 

–

You didn’t think anyone but you three could pull it off, but somehow life went on. Simon and Johnny arranged a meeting with you and it was decided who would do what. School runs were completely off your plate, they’d share that between them and it seemed like a good way to have J be able to get to know his biological father in small, casual chunks. 

You did offer to let them stay in the guest room, but Simon could read you well enough to know that right now you really did not want to be around them and you were offering for the sake of keeping the peace, so he said no. He was staying in an airbnb nearby and Johnny to your surprise outright bought himself a flat the second week. Not really your business, but part of you felt your heart break that he had just accepted so quickly that you’d be separate for the rest of your lives. 

You never asked about what was going on with the two of them. Maybe it was cowardly, but you didn’t want to know. If they were together, then it would feel like you were always just the second choice and now they would be happy without you. If they weren’t, then it would feel like they were only holding back out of their love and respect for you which was no doubt making them miserable. Did you want them to be miserable? You didn’t know, the answer changed depending on the time of day.

You’d had a dream this morning of the two of them together, had woken up wet and needy and had let your hand wander between your legs to finish yourself off to the fantasy of it. Afterwards you promptly threw up and spent the rest of the day in bed feeling awful until J got back from football practice. Johnny had taken him and they were laughing together. He had taken one look at you and invited himself in, saying he’d order take away and get Joe to bed after dinner so you should just relax. You felt too ill and exhausted to really argue.

Joe was in bed and you were tidying away the leftovers when Johnny came back downstairs into the kitchen. It was the first time the two of you had been alone together. 

“Sorry, you used tae love cashews” he said.

“I still do. The place is usually really good as well, just really couldn’t stomach them today” you replied, frowning at the container as you put it away because it really had been sort of gross but Joey had tried some and said he’d eat the leftovers. 

“I can go grab something from the shops if ye want? Ye didnae eat an awful lot.”

You closed the fridge and raised an eyebrow at him. 

“..I’m naw Senga’ing!” he protested, knowing that raised eyebrow well.

“You’re Senga’ing a little.”

“Naw I’m not!”

“I dunno Johnny, if it worries like a Senga and fusses like a Senga…”

He threw a tea towel at you and you laughed. Senga was your old neighbour's very moody hen who treated the two of you like unruly chicks whenever you were out the back garden. It was sort of comforting to know the old Johnny from nearly a decade ago was still here, but bittersweet that he wasn’t yours anymore. 

“I…” you started, but trailed off because you didn’t know what you wanted to say.

You had spent weeks with the anger at finding out what had happened being difficult to predict. Sometimes you felt it so intensely, sometimes it faded away. It was all so long ago now. You were a different person. You all were. 

“I shouldnae have… well let’s be honest there’s a hunner things I shouldnae have done, but just going for recently I shouldnae ever have tried tae say it was wrong of ye to marry Simon. Especially naw when I knew myself that he…” he trailed off.

“That he’s easy to fall in love with” you finished for him, hearing almost a tone of commiseration in your voice. 

“Is easy the word?”

“Fair enough. I hated him at the start. Considered breaking things off with you more than once just so I didn’t have to be around him anymore.”

“I broke two of my fingers trying tae break his nose the first month on the task force.”

You gave a dramatic gasp and pointed accusingly at him. 

“And you never told me?! How did I not know this?”

“Cause it’s a pure riddy. Tried tae punch him with his mask on and he didnae feel a fucking thing. Didnae even try get me intae trouble for it either, just ordered me tae go to medical like a pure dick.”

You could imagine how mad that would have made Johnny and you could absolutely imagine how smug Simon would have been about the whole thing. One regret you had was the times you avoided going out with Johnny’s friends because you sort of wished now you had seen them together more. At the time you were young and so sure that Simon Riley was just a misogynistic tosser that you avoided him and you knew now you had probably missed out on so much. Maybe you’d have noticed how they felt about one another had you given him a chance. 

“I wanted to strangle him so much at the start. No clue how it turned into what it did. He didn’t even propose with a ring, just asked if I wanted to get married in the kitchen on a whim.”

Johnny looked horrified on your behalf.

“Absolute roaster! How in the fuck did both of us fall for such a wanker?”

The two of you took a beat to decide how you felt about this all being out in the open and then laughed together until you cried. God it was nice to just laugh about it. You’d never get over what the two of them did a decade ago, not really, but you didn’t want it to turn you bitter. You didn’t want to forget all the good things. And you wanted them both in Joseph’s life, you wanted him to get all of the love and support you knew these men were capable of. 

You wiped away a tear and sighed, leaning on the counter and looking at Johnny with a sort of sad smile. 

“I wish you had just told me how you felt about him. It’s not that you fell in love with him that hurt, it was that you didn’t trust me enough to tell me.”

Fuck, you guessed you knew how Joe felt now. Too scared to tell him the truth because you had imagined the worst of his reaction. 

“I was a shite husband. Naw even just what happened with Si, but all of it. Should never have taken that job without talking tae ye first. All well and good saying it was for your protection, but I should have trusted that ye wouldnae have told anyone, that ye’d have done your part if ye’d agreed tae it. Should never have taken that choice off of you.”

“Why the change of heart now?”

“Guess I’ve done some growing up. Over the last 9 years it’s naw been the soldiers that have been saving the world most of the time, it’s been the civilians. I used tae think I was some big hero just because I wore the uniform, but I was just being an arrogant prick. I hate that I treated ye like ye were less capable of making decisions because ye didnae have a set of fucking epaulettes. Never really deserved ye.”

“I’m sorry that you took it all on yourself. It must have been awful being alone all this time in enemy territory. Look, I’m pissed that you took the job, Price has been laying low because he knows I’m going to boot him in the balls next time I see him, but I know you did it to help people. And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry I never told you about… about that night with Simon.”

“I’m so so fucking sorry ye went through that bonnie, I cannae imagine” he said, and you knew he was sincere with the moisture gathering in his eyes. 

It was an old wound for you now, but this was new for him you realised. He hadn’t know until a few weeks ago that Joey may have had an older sibling. Remembering how painful it had been back then before time had healed you, you felt the sudden urge to hug him knowing there was a good chance this was still so raw for him. So you did.

He held you tight and buried his face in your hair like he used to. He smelled almost the same, although there was something a little less wild about him now. How long had it been since he had just been held? 9 years on mission, 9 years of the world on his shoulders. Fuck you almost wished Simon had known, then at least he would have had him to come back to without the complication of the lie between them. 

You stayed like that for a while, just clinging to one another in the kitchen. God you had missed him so damn much. You were just so angry that he had been alive all this time. So much time wasted. So many choices that could have changed things. If he had told you back then how he felt about Simon, what would you have done? If you had told him about the miscarriage, would it have changed things? But it was too late for any of that now. 

So when you broke apart and you took a breath to ask if he’d like to stay over, he beat you to it and said he’d best get going. Probably for the best.

“Why did you buy the place anyway? I thought you hated it down here, heart in the highlands and all that.”

“My heart’s in the highlands, but the highlands was never really about the place, it was about the person there in it with me. But the flat’s also close tae the uni Joe said he wants tae go to. I ken that he’s only little now so he might change his mind, but I wanted it tae be there for him just incase and it’s naw like I cannae buy another place for him if he goes somewhere else.”

You shoved him out of the door before you could go against your own best interests and kiss him.