#but just learned that i could have gone this year serious and that can go next

[tittysuckersworld]

hey hey hey anyone going to sakura con next year mabey????

[missberrycake]

I’ve been thinking this morning about if Steve didn’t get back together with Nancy at the end of S1—I think there’s a lot of different ways that could go, but what if Steve ended up as one of Eddie’s lost little sheep?

Because even if Steve was popular enough to keep afloat in the choppy waters of high school, after his bust up with Tommy and Carole—and even when he’s seen talking with Nancy and Jonathan Byers of all people—he still doesn’t really have any true friends left. Sure, he has people he can chat to in class, but at lunch? After school? Nobody is really thinking about who ex-jock, ex-bully Steve Harrington is hanging around with. 

Perhaps he spends the rest of his junior year dreading lunch hour, because he knows he’s going to have to deploy some serious charm tactics—taking as long as he can in the queue, chatting to the students either side of him—and perhaps if he lingers long enough at one of the tables of his more social classmates, pretends he’s just catching up, carrying on a conversation from class, he can make it seem like it’s all still as easy as it was before. 

Sometimes, though, he doesn’t have the energy to pretend. On those days he’ll retreat quietly to his car and eat his lunch behind his wheel, wondering how different it might have been if he’d never gone back into the Byers’ house that day last fall.

It’s on one of those days that Eddie sees him. It’s not like Eddie hadn’t noticed him before, he’s always on the lookout, after all, and Steve Harrington is one of those people who always drew his eye. He’d seen him scouring the cafeteria while queueing up for his state-mandated mac ‘n’ cheese, searching for a space where he could fit. 

And, of course, he’d heard the whispers about Steve—that he’d punched Tommy H in the face, gotten his crown beaten from his head by Jonathan Byers (though he didn’t seem to hold a grudge). If there’s one thing to know about Eddie, it’s that he’s a bleeding heart, and so when he sees Steve sitting alone in his car, winter frost glittering against the metal, he lets out a heavy sigh and trundles over. 

“Hey, Harrington,” he says, pushing down a smirk when Steve jumps (he is easily startled these days, isn’t he?).

“Munson,” Steve replies with narrow eyes. He doesn’t trust Eddie yet, not entirely. 

“There’s more space in my van. If you wanted some company.”

Eddie leaves it like that, keeps it casual, knows that he might get it shoved right back in his face—expects it to be, even. And so he’s surprised at how quickly Steve nods back at him, a real smile breaking out on his face, if only for a moment, until Steve clears his throat and says, “Sure, yeah. That’d be cool, I guess.”

It’s the start of something big. A delicate balance where the two of them pretend that it’s not that important, but somehow they’re more honest with each other than they’ve ever been with anyone else. Steve tells Eddie all about how he doesn’t even really know who he is anymore, and in return Eddie shares just how worried he is that he knows exactly who he’s expected to be, and that he can’t change his fate even if he wanted to.

By the time the next school year starts, it’s well established with the school population that Steve Harrington has somehow landed himself with an honorary spot in the Hellfire Club. He doesn’t play—refuses to learn, even if it’s clear that he’d do pretty much anything else that Eddie Munson would ask of him—but he helps set up the meetings, sits with them at lunch, smiles stupidly whenever Eddie gets up onto the cafeteria tables to rant about the shallow-mindedness of his peers. 

And if Eddie’s diatribes are directed at the popular crowd with a little more venom than they used to be, and if he seems to take great pleasure whenever Tommy H, or Carole, or those posers on the basketball team frown and scoff and sneer at him, it’s no great secret to everyone else in the lunch hall exactly why. 

[Yeah, I'm scouring the archives and trying to salvage as many headcanons as I can from my old deleted account, but let's just pretend this is brand new content.]

[coldfanbou]

Waking Up To Something

A little Dubu for you all. She's very sweet here. Also you have no idea how hard it was to go against the slutty student Dubu thoughts that kept creeping in.

Length 2.6K

Dahyun X Mreader

“Wake up! What are you doing? Hurry!” Groggily opening your eyes, you look to the side, and Dahyun shakes you. “We have school! Wake up!”  You try to wave Dahyun off, but she refuses to let you return to your peaceful slumber. Dahyun huffs, seeing that you won’t get up. She straddles you and grabs your shoulders as she shakes you back and forth. “We don’t have time for this!” She whines.

“Mmm, fine.” You grumble, finally sitting up. You shut your eyes for a moment, still sleepy. You feel Dahyun’s weight move off you, and when you open your eyes again, she grabs your clothes from your closet. You look her up and down, seeing her in her school uniform. That’s when you remember that today was the first day of school. With a burst of energy, you get up and shoo Dahyun out of the room, pushing her out while grabbing your pants from her hands.

“Hey!”

“No time; we have school,” you tell her as you rush to put on your uniform. 

Dahyun pounds on the door, “That’s what I tried to tell you!” The door stops shaking, and you hear Dahyun walk away. You finish getting dressed and grab your things before rushing to the front. Dahyun is anxiously tapping her feet, staring at the clock hanging on the far wall. Noticing that you finally came down, she jumps to her feet and grabs your hand, rushing you both out the door and to school. “We’re going to be so late because of you!” She shouts, running as fast as she can. “It’s our first day back, and we’re going to be late!” She says, looking over her shoulder at you, her frustration evident in her voice.

“You could have gone without me!” You shout back, picking up speed and running past her. You grab Dahyun’s hand; it’s her turn to be dragged around. 

“You wouldn’t even know today was the first day if I hadn’t come!” Dahyun tries to keep pace with you, her backpack swinging from side to side. 

“You’re going to slow!” You slow down, waiting for Dahyun to pass you. You pick her up as soon as she does, carrying her bridal style as you continue your mad dash to school. Dahyun smacks you before covering her eyes, embarrassed to be carried around like this. You make it to school and run to your classroom with Dahyun, the bell ringing just before you enter. Both you and Dahyun hang your heads in defeat as the teacher calls you out for being late, but there's also a sense of relief that you made it. Taking your seat next to Dahyun, she quietly scolds you for not waking up earlier. 

During lunch, Dahyun continues, “You do this every year. You don’t realize it's the first day, and we end up coming in late.”

“I told you. You don’t have to wake me up.”

“I do; that’s what a friend does.” Dahyun retorts. “We’ve been friends for years, and you just don’t learn. What do I have to do live with you?” There’s frustration in her voice. You know what you have to do to calm her down. You pull a small piece of chocolate from your pocket and hand it to her. “That’s not enough. I need more,” Dahyun says, staring at you.

“Seriously?” By the look in her eye, she is more than serious. You grab another piece and hand it to her. Dahyun smirks as she unwraps one of the chocolate pieces, munching on it with a big smile. 

“You know what? I’ve decided. I’m going to live with you now. Our parents will be completely fine with it. We’ve known each other for years, after all.” 

“I really don’t want that.” 

“Too bad,” Dahyun says, eating the second chocolate. As the bell rings for the end of lunch, the two of you head back to class. 

At the end of the day, you return home together. You walk into your home, and Dahyun into hers. A few hours go by before you hear the sound of something rolling into the house. As you come downstairs, you see Dahyun with her parents and a couple of suitcases. “You can’t be serious,” you say to her.

“I told you,” she replies. You all sit down and have a conversation, and your parents agree to let Dahyun sleep in the spare room. Dahyun nudges your leg. “I’ll make lots of noise in the morning, so you have to wake up,” she whispers. You don’t feel happy about having Dahyun live with you, thinking of it as unnecessary. 

The first week of living with Dahyun went well enough. It felt odd, but you thought you would get used to it. One morning, you woke up early.  You head to the bathroom, still tired and barely aware of the world around you. Dahyun was on the other side of the bathroom door. You both stood there for a moment, not moving. Your eyes are glued to her body for those few seconds. They move up her body, her pale skin still dripping with the water from her shower. You pass over her pink cunt; with her pale skin, it stands out. As do her nipples that stood at attention, stiff from the room’s cold air. You were getting hard, and Dahyun noticed. The few seconds you had to look at her body ran out. Dahyun covered her body with a towel, and you shut the door, staying on the outside. You told Dahyun how sorry you were before heading to your room.

The rest of the day was awkward between you. When you returned home, Dahyun went straight to her room, not saying a word to you. That night, though, she came to your room, knocking quietly on the door. “Come in,” she said. 

Dahyun opened the door slowly, walking inside without a word and sitting on your bed. Silence reigns over you both. Neither of you wants to say the first word. Then you both speak at once, and you give Dahyun the chance to speak. “I want to talk about this morning.” You nod along, knowing it was a conversation you needed to have. You apologize to Dahyun again and let her continue. “I…noticed that…” Dahyun mulls over her thoughts, clasping her hands together as she figures out what to say. “This isn’t how I wanted to do it, but I feel like I have to.” Dahyun turns to face you. “I like you… romantically.” You’re stunned and confused because you thought Dahyun would never be interested in you like that. Dahyun taps her hands along her leg, taking a deep breath. “I’ve loved you for a long time now, to be honest. It’s the reason I put up with you.” Dahyun says, a nervous smile growing on her. “ I-look, I forgive you for walking in on me this morning. I just want to get even, so you should show me your cock.” She said in a half-joking tone. You could tell Dahyun was trying to avoid the real conversation.

You stand up, stripping naked in front of Dahyun without a word before sitting back down. You notice Dahyun’s body tense up. It’s odd being nude in front of Dahyun, unnatural, but you chose to do it so you could continue without her holding anything against you. As ridiculous as that may sound, it made sense to you, considering you know Dahyun would try to keep the conversation going at that point. “You love me, Dahyun?”

She stumbles over her words; Dahyun is in complete shock that you are naked in front of her. She couldn’t help but look at your cock. Her eyes wander back to it no matter how many times she pries her eyes away. She gives you a nod, gulping as she tries to focus on something else. “I, um, please put your clothes back on. I can’t talk to you otherwise.” Dahyun blurts out, turning her head. You cloth yourself, telling Dahyun she can look. Seeing you fully clothed, Dahyun takes a deep breath. “Okay, now I can talk. I do love you, and I don’t know; after you saw me naked, I sort of felt like I had to confess. I noticed that you got hard, d-did you like my body?” You nod, feeling the heat rush to your face and getting too embarrassed to speak. “I thought so, but it’s not the only reason you like me, right?”

“Dahyun, this is the first time I’ve seen it.” You smack the top of her head lightly. “Of course not. I like you for you, you goofball. Honestly, I never thought you liked me like that. I don’t know where to go from here. What should we do?” 

Dahyun scoots closer, taking your hand in hers. She stares into your eyes, gathering her courage. Silently, she leans in and presses her lips against yours. It feels right, and you both fill it with passion. You push forward, knocking Dahyun onto her back as your kiss continues. She hesitantly wraps her hands around your neck, holding you close as your hands wander to her waist. When you run out of breath, you break the kiss. Your room is filled with the sound of your heavy breathing. Dahyun gulps, bringing herself up for another kiss. “We can go all the way if you want. I trust you.” 

“Are you sure?”

Dahyun nods, a soft smile on her face, “I want you. I want to be with you.” Dahyun moves her hand to her shirt, unbuttoning her pajamas slowly as you remain over her. As the last button slips away, she pulls her shirt apart to reveal her upper body. Seeing your eyes stick to her chest, Dahyun smiles and feels more confident. You lean down, getting closer to her chest. You plant tiny kisses on her mounds; they make Dahyun shudder. She turns her head to the side, making her gasps known before shutting her eyes. Dahyun focuses on the sensations, ingraining in her memory the feel of your hands on her breasts, the way you’re circling her nipple with your thumb. She bites her lip, enjoying the pleasure. 

You stop in your tracks, staring at Dahyun until she opens her eyes. “Why did you stop.”

“I want to know if you really want this.”

Dahyun feels her heart about to beat out of her chest. She wishes you hadn’t asked that question; putting her on the spot scared her as if she was about to make a leap of faith. “I’m sure,” she says softly. Dahyun reaches down, lifting her hips off the bed as beginning to pull off her pajama pants. You help Dahyun, pulling them completely off her. 

The sight of a beautiful woman, much less Dahyun, in your bed, was something you wouldn’t have thought would happen at the beginning of the day, but here she was. She’s left solely in her panties, a pink pair that suited her well. There was a wet spot on them. Dahyun covers her face as you pull her panties down, her heart racing as she bares her body to you again. 

You strip down before climbing over Dahyun. The soft fragrance of her perfume hits you as you stare at her body. You take in every detail, leaving nothing amiss as you grab her thighs and move them further apart. Hesitantly, you rub your between her wet folds, coating it in her nectar. Dahyun grabs one of your pillows, moaning into it. You take the pillow from her, tossing it to the side before cupping her cheeks and kissing her again. Her eyes flutter, and she mutters, “I love you.” You prepare yourself taking a deep breath as you press your cock against her entrance. You look into her eyes as you push in. You take her hands, holding them as you slowly move in; her walls squeeze your cock. You grunt and groan as you bury yourself inside Dahyun. She gasps, feeling you inside her. Dahyun wraps her legs around your waist. “I don’t want you pulling out,” she moans. 

Dahyun wraps her arms around you, holding you against her as you begin moving. Dahyun feels you move; your cock hits deep, making her cry out. Your thrusts begin slow, allowing her to adjust before gaining speed. Soon, you were pistoning in and out of Dahyun, chasing your orgasm. Dahyun bites her lips, trying to stay quiet. “Kiss me, please,” she whines. 

You give her as much, pressing your lips against hers and letting her moan into it. Her walls squeezed you, and you felt her nipples grow hard as they rubbed against your chest. You squeeze her soft thighs, feeling the plump flesh rebound as you move your hands to her breasts. You’re both quickly approaching your climax; your constant thrusts make Dahyun whimper, and her nails dig into your back. You hold the kiss, keeping her cry muffled as your walls clamp down on your cock. The pleasure becomes unbearable, and you find yourself cumming inside Dahyun as she pushes you in deeper with her legs. 

Her walls milk you, coaxing your cum out and funneling it into her womb. When Dahyun’s voice grows quiet, you break the kiss. “You came inside me,” she says with a smile. Dahyun caresses your cheek, a tired look on her face. Too tired to continue, you lay your head on her chest, drifting off to sleep along while still inside her. 

You wake the following morning to the sounds of someone slurping. As you look down at your body, you see Dahyun between her legs, bobbing her head. You let out a moan, signaling to her that you were awake. She pulls back, stroking your shaft with her soft hand, “Good morning, sleepyhead. We have school soon, so you better hurry up.”

“What are you doing?” You ask, enjoying how her hand moves along your shaft.

Dahyun looks down, shy and embarrassed. “I thought you would want me to wake you up like this instead. It’s what a girlfriend would do, right?” Dahyun is looking for approval and a way to mask her desires. 

You play along, nodding. “Yeah, thanks, Dahyun. This is a lot better than shaking me awake.” Dahyun smiles at you and bends over, wrapping her lips around your cock, her tongue clumsily swirling around the tip. She bobs her head slightly, unable to take much in without gagging. Still, it feels good; her warm mouth and tongue bring you to your climax, and you cum. The first few shots hit her tongue and take Dahyun by surprise. She recoils, allowing the last few to spurt onto her face and chest. The sight of Dahyun soiled with your cum arouses you and gets you hard again. 

Dahyun looks down, noticing your cock is still hard. She sighs, but as her eyes meet yours, she smiles. “Be quick, okay?” She says, turning around and raising her ass to you.  When you don’t immediately take her, Dahyun looks over her shoulder.“I want to try this position, okay?” She says hurriedly before burying her face into the bed. You don’t question it, smacking her ass before taking her. When you finished, there was barely time to make it to school, and you ended up coming in late again. At lunch, Dahyun criticizes you much like the first day, but she comes around at the end. “You’re lucky I really enjoy it too, or I would threaten to not have sex with you anymore. Let’s just start earlier.” She says quietly, grabbing onto your hand and holding it tightly. 

“That’s fine by me, but you need to be quiet unless you want our parents to find out.” Dahyun smacks your chest.

“Don’t say that!” She shouts. After a minute, Dahyun grumbles, “We’ll have to tell them we’re dating soon anyway. Dating…” Dahyun contemplates the word for a second, a smile growing on her face as she turns to face you. She kisses your cheek softly, “Still, it’s really nice. The sound of it, I mean.”

[nananamiin]

𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐃𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐌𝐞𝐧 - 🤍

tw || sukuna is himself 💀 also this is written in my opinion and own headcanon. pls tell me what u think! :3 might make part 2

𝗦𝗮𝘁𝗼𝗿𝘂 𝗚𝗼𝗷𝗼 — ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ — 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗦𝘁𝗿𝗼𝗻𝗴𝗲𝘀𝘁

I can’t honestly see Gojo maintaining a long term relationship without him having self destructive tendencies. He’s not exactly a bad boyfriend, he’s surprisingly patient (learned trait as a teacher) and realistic, even cynical on a lot of subjects. But he’s has seen a lot, done a lot and been through a lot. His world has been shaken, destroyed and rearranged so he feels genuine unease and insecurity when he thinks his life is beginning to have some type of stability for once. Which can become Gojo becoming oddly unsure of himself.

He doesn’t understand a lot about himself even at 28 years old, which translates to him struggling to understand where he stands with you. He adores you, in the same way he adored Geto. Hell, he might love you in a more romantic manner than he loved Geto but that doesn’t change the fact that often when you two alone he’s in his own world. He doesn’t mean to be distant, but he overthinks a lot. He thinks and thinks and thinks and he gets lost in it. You have to reel him in. He’ll learn to overcome this bad habit if you give him some encouragement and help.

Always somewhere doing something fighting God knows what. It’s nerve wracking to see him come home after what seems like a week of him just in missions. This can really strain your relationship with Gojo and if it’s a casual thing, then I can’t see him putting too much effort into it. If it’s serious, he will try but try and do are two different things.

Not a very sexual man, he doesn’t have time to sit down and think about sex. He’s comfortable being without it for the rest of his natural life, honestly. When he was a teen, of course he was hormonal and moody. But now as an adult, he thinks of it differently. It’s not a necessity nor does he seek it out. Of course he won’t mind if you initiate it. It’d just be rare for him to make sexual advances on you unprompted. He also values consent A LOT. He hates things going unspoken because it wasn’t until relatively recently did Gojo truly did begin to understand people in general, so he wants you to be clear with him on basically everything.

His students, his work as a teacher, it means everything to him. It grounds him when he’s busy thinking about what if he had gone with Geto, what if Toji hadn’t appeared, what if he wasn’t the strongest, so you have to value that too. That’s a given in a relationship with Gojo and he might put his students before you. If it becomes serious and long term, he might want you to meet his students at some point.

THE master of bad puns and jokes. There’ll be a lot of unserious nights watching him reorganize his Digimon cards into his special folder for the 10th time or watch a romcom with him, just the two of you. These are moments Gojo loves and cherishes. He cherishes what you make him feel.

He can’t help but fall in love. He’s desperately wanting to be who people think he is, to be professional, to understand the role given to him, but he’s human. And he can’t deny it to himself that when he lays down and does his daily routine of overthinking, his brain goes to you. And he has a disdain for it. The last time he got this close to someone…well, they’re not that close anymore. Gojo wants to be both the strongest and the man he wishes he could be for you. But there’ll be times he can’t be that man, he has to be the strongest because society needs him. And it’s emotionally taxing to both him and you.

Let’s be real, we aren’t him. We as people aren’t anything like Gojo so we don’t understand what it’s like being the sorcerer everyone turns to when shit hits the fan, nor will we ever carry that burden (I hope not). And that creates tension. Gojo is disconnected with people which can go both ways for misunderstandings. He’s frustrated at himself that he can’t be what he wants to be and he’s frustrated at you for not being like him (maybe he’s even frustrated you’re not like Geto in the way you can’t understand him.) You’re frustrated because you just can’t always grasp the severity or the way of life with being the strongest sorcerer and also frustrated because it’s just creating tension. But it’s not hopeless! He’s learned that people do care for him beyond just his titles. And he’s learned that communication can make or break a relationship.

If you two overcome your differences, your fears, and become a long term thing it’s his LIFELINE. You are priority number one. That selfish, pretentious part of him really comes back, it really shines through when it comes to you. You’re one part of his life that doesn’t depend on his strength, on this idea of his power bordering deity status. You’re everything to him by not treating him so holy. And God he won’t fuck it up. I can’t see him cheating, not even accidentally. He won’t fuck around, because his devotion is so deep. And he expects devotion back. He’s not possessive but you’re his.

𝗞𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗼 𝗡𝗮𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗶 — ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ — 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗥𝗲𝗹𝗶𝗮𝗯𝗹𝗲

Probably the best dating option out of all the JJK men lmfao. He’s responsible, impossibly patient, open minded, kind, humane and very intelligent. Not to mention, he’s hot! He’s a total hunk with brains which is perfect for basically anyone. And he’s pretty sane, so that’s also a plus. He’d probably be the easiest to the date. He won’t compare you to his exes, he won’t ditch you, he’s great at communication and he’s shockingly very blunt about his emotions. And that can make everything much easier as he’s not very secretive. Also he’s very attentive to your emotions, it’s scary. He has to read people and situations quick to survive his missions so he has this eerie habit of reading your features scarily accurate.

He’s quick to judge character or misunderstand someone, though. If someone’s coming off as rude or as arrogant, Nanami takes them at face value. He doesn’t do soul searching psycho analyzing bullshit, if you’re a dick then you’re a dick regardless of whatever happened to make you a dick. Yes, he’s attentive and emotionally intelligent but in his field of work, he’s seen a lot of genuine freaks and weirdos. So he doesn’t think twice before judging someone.

He absolutely does NOT want you to be in any sorcerer problem. No. He can’t handle that. You could be as strong as Sukuna and he’s still battling himself on whether or not he should sit you down and talk to you about it. He doesn’t care if it’s selfish, he doesn’t care if the higher ups argue with him, the idea of you in this field of work haunts him and he hates it. Even if it helps people, he hates it because he knows at any moment you could be harmed or worse. Just this once let him be selfish in having you when all he’s ever done is be selfless and humane.

This may or may not upset some of y’all but Nanami is not a daddy dom. He doesn’t really care for sex much like Gojo. If it happens, it happens. But if it doesn’t happen, he doesn’t care. He’s plain vanilla and he hates kinky shit simply because it just gives him a bad taste. He prefers if sex comes much much later in a relationship since he’s very traditional in the sense he wants a model family. Not to say he’s a slut shamer (my king is NOT.) but he will absolutely not find the basis of a good relationship from a one night stand. Or maybe he will, who knows? He just wants stability that won’t come from someone fleeting is all.

He will stare blankly at a man joking about you in anyway that’s mean spirited. That shit does not go with him because he will actually visibly roll his eyes and make a rude statement. Never ever think someone will disrespect you in his presence because he’d actually rather listen to Gojo’s Digimon rants than ever let anyone disrespect you. Even if you’re casual with him, you’re funny if you think it won’t become serious with him. He has this charm to him that’ll draw you to him. Can you tell I am in love?

99% of the time, it’s serious. Casual isn’t something he has the time for. It’s serious and long term. Which means he expects for you to be committed, honest, loyal and humble. He can’t stand someone who isn’t those things and if you don’t embody that then he won’t give you the time of day. He doesn’t play games, he doesn’t do situationships. It’s all or nothing with Nanami because tomorrow he might not be able to visit you. And you bet your ass he’ll do a background check on you. He’s SERIOUS.

He might falter in the way he can’t express himself at times. He’s so used to just mindlessly staring off into space about the shit that happens to him that he sort of forgets he can also speak to you about his problems. And as mature as Nanami is, he does have his moods. He gets grumpy, he gets bitchy, he gets upset, but he won’t take it out on you. He’ll just silently deal with it himself, because that’s the way he’s learned to handle the problems. It gets to a point that it’s unhealthy and he knows it, so he’s stuck in that situation of being aware of his shortcomings but he feels like he can’t do much about it. It’s an awkward hell he can often trap himself in.

There’ll be some nights, where everything’s dead, everything’s still. It’s just you and him in bed. And he suddenly just tears up and hugs you. And he silently sobs into your chest, clutching you like you’re his safety net. Because you are, he relies on you for normalcy. For love, for peace. And the way he needs it is like an addict needing their next fix. That’s why he’s so adamant about you not coming close to his line of work, because he doesn’t want to start coming to terms with that. He’ll be dependent on you for emotional support because like every other sorcerer, Nanami has seen things that would leave the average man a shell of his former self. And sometimes Nanami cries to you because he’s so afraid that yes, he is a shell of who he was. You have to reassure him he isn’t.

An emotionally driven person despite his professional look. He’s a kind, sweet guy at the end of the day who I can never see doing a mistake too unforgivable or having a flaw too deep that it can’t be overlooked. He’s another man with you, a softer man. A man that lays with you simply watching a stupid movie because he’s got the time. And in that time, he feels normal. He feels average. It’s funny; he left his salary job to be a sorcerer so he shouldn’t have any room to complain about normalcy since it was his choice. But still, we all strive for stability and a peaceful life. And it’s not a crime for him to want it too, you tell him.

𝗧𝗼𝗷𝗶 𝗙𝘂𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗴𝘂𝗿𝗼 — ⚝ ⫘⫘⫘ ⚝ — 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗔𝘀𝘀𝗮𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗻

I’m going to need every Toji stan to be so ridiculously for real and sit down and listen to me when I say this man is trouble. He’s hot I can’t deny that but my god, he’s like an amalgamation of bad decisions. He’d do casual dating solely to leech off of you if you have money and that’s UBER broke man activities. He’s also the type to have situationships he just either ghosts or ditches because he does not see it as worth it. Or he’d blow money like it’s nothing because he just doesn’t have impulse control when it comes to horse racing. He’s like a walking red flag when it comes to casual dating.

He’s down for casual sex but I can’t see him starting a relationship based on casual sex. So if you want something with him, it’s hard to start it simply because this man will identify that effort and shut it off or not reciprocate it. He thinks you’re nice, he thinks you’re sweet, but that’s about it. Toji can be very iffy when it comes relationships. He wants something out of it, so you’d probably enter it knowing he has ulterior motives out of it. Sex isn’t a big deal to him anymore, he can’t see it as a big deal. It’s just something he does to stroke his ego and to help himself when he’s in a mood. His way of being can be hedonistic. And destructive.

But, he isn’t just sex and gambling and eating. He is a broken man with a twisted way of love and caring because of the unfortunate circumstances he was raised in. And that isn’t up to anyone but him to fix. So don’t expect to fix him, because Toji won’t do it himself. He’s not a helpless case but I can’t see Toji doing much outside of just acknowledging it. He’s also very VERY touchy on his past and on you trying to get closer to him besides anything that’s casual couple things. It’s possible for him to open up and be personal, but again remember he was raised in an abusive situation so he views things and himself differently than others. His understanding of the world is bleak.

Would he cheat? No. Probably not. He might see a good looking chick and stare for too long or might make a comment to himself but Toji wouldn’t cheat. It’s not worth the screaming and breakup texts and comments. He’s not the smartest man alive but he knows better. And to be brutally honest, he thinks it won’t last long with you. That’s just how it is with him most of the time. He doesn’t see the need to cheat because A.) Either you or him will ditch the other or B.) The mess is too much to clean up.

He doesn’t really care what your input on his income and wasteful lifestyle is, it’s how he lives. And nobody tells him what to do. He didn’t leave the Zenin just to be told off by a person he’s seeing casually. And he hates it when someone does that. It’s his life, not yours. But like I said before—Toji isn’t stupid. He is intelligent and resourceful. If he sees you truly, honestly, genuinely wanting someone and trying then maybe as you two are sat at another dinner date he looks over. And maybe as he looks over, he’ll see that same type of sheer joy he saw so long ago in her eyes. And maybe after years living his lifestyle, does Toji think to himself that maybe you won’t flee if he stops being this pompous persona.

If every star aligns for it to happen, he’ll become gentler during sex. He’ll start to think twice before overspending on betting tickets, he’ll start to walk you to your home. He’s not impossible to work with but he’s extremely closed off and shut off from anything romantic after losing his wife. Selfishly, Toji compares every lover after her to her and he sneers at the thought of them ever measuring up to her. And yet here he finds himself awkwardly wanting to say more to you. But he can’t open his trap.

He’s super not sure how to do PDA. Back then, she’d initiate everything. So he’s left scratching at his head on how to show affectionate again in a way that isn’t sex or fake. If he really starts to feel for you, he’s going the extra step to make sure you’re on the inside of the sidewalk and he’s right beside you. I feel like that’s the extent he can really show his affection, by doing really menial tasks people don’t think twice about. His hand lingers on yours when he hands you some groceries, his eyes stay on you as you talk. He hasn’t done this serious relationship crap since forever.

You’re gonna have to correct a lot of behavior from him which is exhausting. You’re gonna have to tell him again and again you’re not his dead wife so he can’t compare apples to oranges. You’re not there for him to rely on to change his way for because you’re not a therapist, you’re his partner. You’re not here for him to constantly depend on you emotionally to fix his deeper rooted problems, that’s on him. He’s a lovely man when he’s not constantly full of the negative things. But at his worst, he’s a dependent wreck who’s always thinking of her.

If Toji really really does love you, he’ll go beyond the world for you. He’ll kill and maim for you, he’d devote his life savings to your future with him. You’d become something he cherishes more than money, more than his hedonistic tendencies, you’re everything. The air he breathes, the warm breeze, you’re his life. And he won’t lose you. He won’t sabotage himself to lose something he built good for himself and for you. He’d honest to God turn his life around. But again, old habits die hard especially pertaining to Toji. So who knows if he’d really be up for it.

𝗥𝘆ō𝗺𝗲𝗻 𝗦𝘂𝗸𝘂𝗻𝗮 — ⋆ 𓆩☠︎︎𓆪 ⋆ — 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗞𝗶𝗻𝗴

No. Just no. Absolutely not. Let me say it this way; Sukuna genuinely has disinterest in anything that isn’t mass murder with a capital M. He’d literally do everything in his power to be the most heart breaking, bigoted boyfriend imaginable. He’s a wretched son of a bitch. He’s the biggest red flag of the entire series. Sukuna is quite disinterested in romance and relationships as a whole.

He’s a fun villain but as a lover? This man would not hesitate to be a terrible person. He has no problems beating his fucking nephew and murdering children, he has no problem being terrible with you. The only reason I can see him dating you is simply because he’s bored and he wants to see what the fuss is kinda like how he eat popcorn and drank soda in Shibuya. But don’t get it twisted, it’s all on HIS terms. HIS rules. He doesn’t give a shit what you care about or worry for. Your role as his partner is to follow what he says and if you don’t? You’re the next pile of human mush.

If you were of use to him like Uraume, he might consider you something worthy. His relationship with Uraume proves that he can choose a more amicable and stable relationship but let’s be for real, he wouldn’t especially if you’re not as strong as him or someone like Gojo. You’d be a plaything at best. And he doesn’t share his plaything. Even with Uraume, it’s a relationship that benefits him personally so you’d have to provide something of that nature for him to consider you as much as he does Uraume. And good luck avoiding all the comparison he will do to Uraume, he’s toxic LOL.

This can either go two ways which are 1.) you are his favored plaything. And that comes with pros and cons. The pros are that you’re somewhat under the protection of THE Sukuna. That’s about it for the pros because he’d be a possessive, controlling, dominating manchild who would expect you to bend to his whims and any backtalk would be met either a backhand or god knows what else from him. I pray for you if you stand too close to his male servants because they’d be ripped in half simply because one glanced at you. You’d be super isolated, your entire world would just revolve around him whether or not you agree with him. He’d probably stroke your hair not out of love, but as if you’re his pet. His possession. And god forbid you do something he doesn’t like. That leads to him making your life an entire inconvenience to the highest degree.

Impatient and would probably roll his eyes and gaslight you at every turn and tell me I’m wrong. He’d probably laugh and clap if you fell and sprained your ankle.

The second option would be the Uraume route which is a subordinate that can provide him something that’ll be in service to him. I imagine he’d be the biggest bitch ever and very particular so you’d have to deal with him but the benefit of that would be the fact that he’d let you stand close to him and have him cross his bottom two arms over his thick, muscled chest whilst one hand rests on the small of your back to keep you close to him as he overlooks his destruction. It sounds insane but I can see him thinking better of you after sometime as his subordinate. And even in this route I feel like the possessive, selfish streak will continue because you’re actually funny if you think Sukuna’s selfishness has any stops. He will be selfish and probably bodyblock anybody from staring at you.

I can see why Gege wants him so bad though he’s so fine

Honestly, with sex I feel like he really would not give a shit. I mean yes, he has his group of women, but it bores him. Sex doesn’t thrill him unlike fighting, unlike the ability to wreak havoc to a small town that has no choice nor power to defend itself. He understands sexual attraction but I can’t see Sukuna acting on it. He might find you attractive enough to keep you locked up in a dungeon or in a chamber but I feel like he wouldn’t exactly seek you out. You’re more of an afterthought to Sukuna. And you better be comfortable with that because with him around that’s not changing.

Best case scenario? You mean something to him like a useful subordinate he WOULDN’T kill alongside his other servants. He’d like someone resourceful, quick on their feet, intelligent, witty and someone who can understand him which is really weird to say about someone who would skin a grandma. He wants someone to just get him off the bat because I really feel like Sukuna judges hard, especially if you’re someone he’s seriously considering giving respect.

[dreamchasernina]

The live action writers hate Aang

I have given myself a lot of time to think about the live action, and reached the conclusion that the writers hate Aang. I dare you to read read this and tell me I'm wrong.

Let me start this by asking you a question? What's the most badass scene Aang has in the first season of the OG show? No matter what you answer is, I know for sure, that scene doesn't exist in the live action. Aang does absolutely nothing to prove the audience he is the right person to be the Avatar, he learns absolutely nothing throughout the show, he doesn't need to look into himself and change his way of thinking. Nothing. Most of the fundamental lessons Aang learns throughout the first season are gone.

The first mistake Aang does in the OG is staying at Kyoshi island too long, letting the attention go to his head, getting too comfortable. He realises he brought destruction to the island and tries to fix his mistakes by jumping onto the Unagi to help the village. That's how he learned the responsibly he holds as the Avatar and finds a unique way to help the village. Well that doesn't exist in the LA. Instead, Kyoshi takes over Aang's body to fight the whole fire nation for him. Aang, himself, does literally nothing.

The spirit world. In the OG show Aang is forced to face his Avatar duty for the first time by trying to save the village that's beeing attacked by Hei Bai. This is his first test as the Avatar and he fails. Not only that, he loses his friend. So Aang has to figure out himself how to get Sokka back from Hei Bai. He figures out who her bai is, himself, understands why Hei Bai is angry and gives him hope, the way Katara gave him hope. So we see that even though Aang failed at first, he kept trying and was smart and compassionate enough to realise what the problem is and solve it. This does not exist in the LA. Aang sees Hei bai in the spirit world, within a second realises who he is and just gives him the Acorn, without having to face him at all!

Another reason I'm convinced the writers hate Aang is the way all the avatars + Bumi treat Aang. Everyone is mad at him for disappearing for 100 years. And look, I get that, you can be mad at him if he ran away from his duties...but he never did! He went to clear his head on Appa and got caught in the storm. And if he hadn't run away he'd be dead, so why are you all so mad at him?! Bumi being mad at Aang could make sense, because in the OG show Aang did spend a significant amount on time of goofing around before he finds out about the comet. But here, it makes no sense! Bumi is mad for no reason. As soon as Aang got out go the ice he took his duty seriously, so please, make it make sense! And the show just glosses over the fact that if Aang hadn't run away he would be dead with the rest of the air benders. Instead of letting Aang feel guilty himself, which he does in the OG show, they just get these characters to hate on him, because they're incapable of making their characters have any emotional depth.

Aang doesn't learn water bending. At all. And there is no logical reason for that. I guess they thought it wasn't that important but please explain to me how you want to make Aang more serious and focused on the Avatar duties but not make him learn water bending? The literal next step Aang has to take to becoming the Avatar?? That is the only clear goal Aang has from the second episode of the show - to find a master and learn waterbending! Make it make sense!

Taking away Aang's talk with Koh. So I assume if most people didn't answer my question above with the Koi fish, they probably said Aang's journey into the spirit world and his meeting with Koh. In the OG show, Aang has to find a way to figure out how to save the water tribe. He does so by going into the spirit world and talking to Koh the face stealer. So Aang had to talk to Koh showing zero emotions so he doesn't have his face stolen. That scene is so creepy and so badass and shows that Aang is really capable, even though he is a kid, he is facing the creepy ass spirit and is doing an excellent job. So when Aang finds out who the moon and the ocean spirits are, it feels deserved, it feels like an accomplishment. In the live action he doesn't have to show zero emotions because Koh is not stealing faces, he's just stealing random people for whatever reason. Koh tells him exactly what to do, bring me a MacGuffin so I can release your friends, Aang just goes to see Roku, no problem, no obstacles to overcome, brings the Macguffin to Koh and he just releases his friends. Wow, really shows us how resourceful Aang is by making him...get an object and give it back to Koh...

And the very last point that I absolutely hated in the show. When Aang goes into the Avatar state and becomes the giant koi fish and wipes everyone out, the live action show goes out of its way to emphasise that that is not Aang in there. Aang is gone. The Koi fish is just rage. and that's that. Taking away ANY agency Aang ever had. Look, I know in the OG show Aang is not in control of the Avatar state either, but we know that's still Aang in there, that's his power he's showcasing. He might not be in control but that's him doing it all, being all powerful. But in the live action, they tell us Aang is gone, that's just his body the spirit is using. Plus Aang does no watebending himself, no gestures like the original where you can see aang in the sphere water bending, controlling the giant Koi fish, showing us how far he's come as a water bender. But in the LA he's just in the sphere...doing nothing because he never learned water bending so of course that's not him doing all this cool shit.

I am so angry over all of this. This is you MAIN PROTAGONIST. and you made him nothing but a vessel to progress the plot. You gave him no character, no growth, no struggles, no power! So no, you cannot convince me, at this point, that the writers of the live action don't hate Aang. Probably as much as they hate Katara.

[daddy-suguru]

‘𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒎𝒚 𝒅𝒂𝒅𝒅𝒚, 𝑰'𝒎 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒅𝒐𝒍𝒍𝒚’

requested by ✑ @moneygrape - Ok I saw this TikTok (https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTRpk3dCL/) and I thought holy 😳 this has to be at least one of the jjk men. What do you think?

Toji has been jealous easily, which he refuses to admit. While you are tired of him acting serious while the two of you are 'stringless' friends with benefits. Quickly, he reminds you that your pussy belongs to him. While he struggles with being emotionally vulnerable.

wc: 1.2k

✑ tags: hurt/comfort, 'hidden' jealousy, confessions, toji struggling with vulnerability, brat-tamer!ex-boyfriend!Toji, brat!reader, brat taming,, daddy/brat/doll, very light objectivation - calling you like a sex doll, hair pulling, degradation/praise, friends with benefits

Sliding his hand up underneath your short, clingy dress. Toji questions, "This is what my doll does while I'm gone? You like to dress up and whore yourself out." Spreading your legs, as he drags his rough fingertips closer towards your pussy.

No one quite felt like Toji. You're craving tentative strokes, the rough thickness of his fingers stroking your squishy pussy. He mumbles, "No panties? You're a desperate slut just waiting to be fucked, aren't you?"

After six years of fooling on and off, you had learned a painful lesson. Toji will never settle down. The ache has you wanting to rile him up, to make you fuck you with more emotion than just lust.

Slurring some of your words together. "It's because Daddy hasn't been fucking me riiight!" Moaning as he curls his fingers, finding your sweet spot within seconds. Smirking and adding on,

"I'm not your pretty sex doll, so you shouldn't mind sharing." Glancing over at Toji, his face blank. As he seems to pay more attention to the cars on the road. While his fingers pumping inside of you are more of an afterthought.

Clenching his hand with your thighs as your heart sinks into your gut. Looking away and biting into your bottom lip. Disappointment and pleasure mix, as you remind yourself that you've given up on having more with Toji.

"You might not be mine, but she is. I can tell she's missed me. Whoever you picked up couldn't take care of my pussy. Not when she's this desperate. She's sucking in my fingers." Toji possessiveness over your pussy, talking as if he knows her better.

He is jus a distance old friend, showing up to split your pussy open with his fat cock then ghost. In the past two years, he had been showing up more. Calling you his, making it hard for you to keep old feelings buried.

Toji presses down on the gas, weaving through the traffic to get ahead of some slow drivers on the highway. While he pumps his fingers faster. Stroking circles into your clit with his rough thumb.

Turning down the rumbling base of his car. While he mummers, "Gripping me so tight, doll." Biting into your bottom lip, holding back your moans. He prods, "Where's the sass?" Opening your mouth, only to whimper his name, pleading,

"Don't stop fuck!" He slips his fingers out, the high drop rapidly. Bringing you out of the hazy clouds. Brewing miserable frustration, your clit twitches and throbs. As he questions,

"So now you want to begging? You don't want to use this time to trash talk my cock some more before I have you screaming it's too much." Licking his fingers clean, loudly groaning as he does.

The heavy raspy sounds going straight to your pussy. Which you wish he was filling up with his fingers. Instead of stuffing them in his mouth. Groaning at the flavor, as he loudly slurps.

Crossing your arms, looking out the dark window as he pulls into a driveway of a small house. The porch light is on, along with a small light. And you hold back your questions to give sass instead.

Snapping at Toji, "Won't hear it again. As if your cock could be too much, barely remember what it feels like." Toji is quiet as he opens his car door and slips out. Leaving you to follow as he grabs the house's key.

Asking him, "How long are you renting?" He opens the door and walks in without a word. With you slipping in behind, locking the door. While Toji slipped out of his shoes.

You had already abandoned your shoes the moment you sat in his car. Knowing he would take you home the next day. And a part of you wonders how many made it to being able to sleep over.

It was three years before Toji let you stay the night. Or before he spent the night at yours. And now you would like to think you are the one of few with his number. Since it didn't matter where he was at, he would answer back within the hours.

Walking into his living room, with you trailing behind. He clicks on the overhead light and stands in front of a dark green sofa. Pushing the coffee table with a nudge of his foot.

He points at the ground in front of him and demands, "On your knees." You hate how quickly you listen, knees touching the floor before you could blink. Because fuck if you didn’t miss this, the way he looks down at you with long locks falling into hungry dark eyes. His smirk and the scar that only made his lips more kissable.

His large, heavy, hanging cock is in your face.Your eyes widen as you take in his pulsing, fat vein and dripping cockhead. He chuckles, the urges you. "Remember your words in the car." Picking his cock up and hitting your lips.

Opening your mouth, Toji pushes your head forward. Rolling his hips, pushing his fat head deep into your throat. He groans, "I don't mind fucking the bratty slut outta ya, making you a sexy housewife. Since I bought this place, you're not fucking around with anyone else." Placing your hands on his thighs, pushing away.

Slipping his cock out with a loud pop, "You're not my daddy, Toji. You can't tell me what to do. If I want tonnnf!" Toji stuffs his cock down your throat. Gagging around him, squeezing his cock. While you can feel his veins pulse, making his cock seem like it's throbbing.

Your nose presses into the short dark patch of hair. "Like hell I'm not, sass me all you want, but you come running to me every time I come back to town." Pulling his hips back, dragging his cock along your tongue slowly. As you suck in your cheeks and stick out your tongue.

Groaning loudly, "That's it, relax my pretty mouth and take my fat cock like a good girl." Rolling his hips, slowly, savoring your smooth wet mouth around his cock. As your spit drips down your chin.

Digging your nails into his thighs as Toji picks up his pace as tears fill your eyes. Cradling the back of your head, groaning,

"You gonna cry for your Daddy? And here I thought you could handle my cock. Thought I wasn't too much, but you're already crying." The last bit of air escapes in a moan, sending vibrations down to his cock into his balls.

The possessiveness isn't like Toji. He is just as cool, collected, and cocky as ever. But this was new. He never so firmly insists on belonging together before. Instead, he always lets you know is his favorite pussy.

Now he is so boldly calling you his....maybe you were reading too much into it. Too eager to nurse the crush that never fully died. Which might as well have been called what it is; unrequited love. For a man too damaged to give you what you need.

Pressing your thighs together. Cock sucking wasn't always your favorite. But when it is Toji's, you love everything about it. From the weight of his hand on your head, to the contrasting softness of his skin over the hardness of his cock.

To how vocal he is, watching you suck his cock with such hungry lust. It makes your pussy sloppy wet with anticipation. Pressing your thighs together, trying to give your clit some friction.

Toji slips his cock out of your mouth with a loud pop. As he insists, "You're my pretty sex doll for me to fuck my fat cock into." Softly panting, catching your breath. As Toji wipes away, a fat tear rolls down your cheek.

Leaning into his palm. Toji's face softens with adoration in his eyes. The tenderness of his actions makes you forget your previous brattiness. Until he slaps his cock on your lips, he recalls,

"Remember what you said in my car?" There is a special pleasure in being manhandled by Toji. His large, rough hands grasp your body, moving you with ease. Bending you over the sofa and ripping your dress.

Opening your mouth to snap at him. As he brings his hand down roughly on your cheek. A loud cry of his name cuts your protests off. The delicious stinging of his heavy hand hitting your ass has your pussy clenching.

Toji roughly orders, "Cry about it!" Lining his cock up with your lips. Your eyes widen as you reach back, pushing on his clothed abs. He grabs your hip and hand, yanking your hips back to meet his thrusts.

Pausing and pulling his shirt off. Grabbing your other wrist tugging it back while reassuring you, “I'll buy you a new one to rip off you.” Wrapping his shirt around your wrists, binding them together behind your back.

Biting into your bottom lip, refusing to make a sound. While savoring how Toji’s heavy cock drags along your squishy pussy. Fighting the urge to push back when only his fat head.

He grabs your hair and pulls your head back, arching your back and slapping your ass. Before demanding, “Tell me who this pussy belongs to and I’ll let you cum quickly.”

[gavisuntiedboot]

Cherry on Top

Gavi X Physiotherapist! reader (birthday special!)

Word count: 3.8k

Warnings: suggestive content!

A/N: I am back once again with more self indulgent fics for my baby boo thang's birthday !!!

~~~

"Doctoraaa! When are you coming home? I'm withering away from boredom and loneliness."

You could practically hear his pout through the phone, imagining him sprawled out on the couch with his feet in the air.

"Gaviraaa I am studying so that I can graduate on time! Or do you want me to keep making a student salary forever?" You held the phone between your ear and your shoulder, still furiously typing away at your sample notes for your advisor.

"What are you even studying? You basically run our whole club's rehab program by yourself. What else do they need to test you on?"

That was actually an excellent question. It was coming up on the two year anniversary since you had become a Barca employee, and you had almost fully taken the reigns. Dr. Gonzalez had checked out, waiting for you to get your degree so that he could finally retire. Nicolas was a good assistant, but was still heavily lacking in his ability to make quick decisions, so he was stuck doing basic PT most of the time. The show was essentially yours to run.

"This last year is testing my leadership ability and teaching skills. When I graduate, I will start running the intern program at the club, and so they have to make sure I can correct staff mistakes."

Your typing was getting progressively louder as you continued angrily editing the note in front of you.

"Take this idiot Aaron. He has not written a single coherent note since he got assigned as my mentoring project. If he were an employee he would have been fired weeks ago. But since this is a "training and learning" opportunity or whatever, I have to fix all his notes and send him the edits so he can learn."

You heard shifting on the other end of the line, and then a soft thud followed by some whispered profanity.

"Pablo please don't injure yourself."

"Maybe it will bring you home faster. Oh no my other ACL!"

Despite his giggle, you went quite on the other side of the line. The day of Pablo's injury had been one of the worst of your life. He had been playing for the national team, so you had no choice but to stare at your TV through glassy eyes, utterly and completely helpless. One of your friends literally had to prevent you from collapsing (though to this day you maintain that it was dehydration, not hysteria). He had called you from the sideline, and the pain in his voice just made you break further.

"I need you."

You had been waiting at the airport to receive him, official team gear on in an attempt to distract fans from the fact that you were fully embracing him and crying into his shoulder. You had almost gone insane in the lead up to his surgery, triple checking the credentials of everyone involved. You stayed by his bed for his entire stay, spending most days and night making sure he wore his brace and didn't make any stupid decisions. It was on one of these nights, when you were once again complaining about not having your favorite undereye cream at his house, that he once again asked you his favorite question.

"Why don't you just move in?"

As usual, you brushed the comment off. Gavi had been asking you to move in weekly for over a year now, always unfortunately dead serious. There was an innocence and simplicity in the way Pablo say the world that you wished you could emulate. He liked you, he was comfortable around you, and he wanted you to live with him. Simple, right?

But it terrified you. You loved Gavi, probably more than anything else in your life. But long withstanding trauma lives up to its name of being long withstanding. That feeling that the expiration date of your perfect relationship was approaching? That never went away. It was like the more time you spent with Gavi, the more you were terrified that he was going to figure out what was wrong with you, why no one could love you until this point in time, and run for the hills. Your apartment was the one space you still had to be irate and disgusting and genuinely yourself without being afraid of scaring him. And it would make it much easier when he eventually broke up with you to date a pop star or a model or Pedri.

"I'm being serious, princesa. You're here every night. You spend more time here than at your own place. You barely sleep in your own bed because you're just obsessed with me and want to take care of me all the time."

"Pablo, we've talked about this..."

"Yes," he said, sitting up and opening his arms in a gesture for you to come cuddle with him. "We have. Back when we had only been together for only three months and we didn't know if you would be able to put up with me."

"Hey!"

"Let me finish." He hugged you closer to his chest, resting his chin on your head and rubbing slow circles into your skin. It was hard to maintain your composure when you were like this, feeling the warmth radiating off his skin and the pressure of his lips kissing your crown every so often.

"We've been together for a year and a half now. I've seen you in bad moods, heard your yelling, plucked your chin hairs-"

He restrained you from getting up, giggling at your embarrassment. He really was the most adorable little thing on the planet.

"I've seen you at your lowest points. Which, admittedly mi amor, were not that low. I saw a tiktok of this guy who had to pull out his girlfriend's tampon. This could be much worse. Hey, look at me."

You turned over, your chest pressed to Pablo's as he brought his hands up to cup your cheeks. You had learned how to do this in the last year, how to steel yourself under his intense gaze. Pablo Gavi looked at you like he was in the presence of a divine being, eyes big and soft and filled to the brim with adoration. He looked at you like just your image was all he needed to keep breathing.

"I love you. So much that sometimes I don't know what to do with it. I want you to move in so I can take care of you, and so that it's easier to let you take care of me. I want to annoy you with my morning training alarm and make you coffee and maybe mess up your laundry when I try to do the washing."

"This is not a convincing argument so far, baby."

"I just want to live with you. And be around you. And hold you like a weighted teddy bear while I sleep."

"What if you get tired of me being around all the time?" You asked between smooshed cheeks, finally losing your ability to maintain his stare.

Gavi refused to even dignify the question with a verbal response, instead letting go of your face to lift the hem of his t-shirt, pulling it over your head. Your cheek was practically burning up pressed against his abs, still defined and solid despite days of immobility.

"Doctora, this is how close I want you to be. At all times. I am about to sew you to my torso. So will you please move in?"

And it was then that you agreed to it. Now the house was littered with so much merch on the walls and shelves it looked like a sports store, but it was yours. A home. You spent months taking care of Gavi, from driving him to appointments to at-home physiotherapy sessions. You took every opportunity to place a gentle kiss on the scar on his knee (ya know, when you were down there ;) ) and avoided all clips that showed him in pain.

"Come on, Doctora. I'm okay."

"I know, I know... it's just not a memory I can bring myself to joke about. Not while you're still in recovery."

"I'm sorry, amor. Can you come home and scold me about it?"

You groaned again, resisting the urge to slam your head into your keyboard. The progress notes were really terrible.

"And besides, you need to finish packing."

This was true. In about 6 hours, you and Gavi would be on a plane for his birthday trip to Ibiza. He had been buzzing with excitement about his birthday trip for months now, eager to take you someplace where there would be nothing to distract the two of you. Just perfect sand and perfect sea for a perfect weekend. He had talked about going farther than Spain this year, maybe Italy or at least Portugal, but injuries have a great way of canceling travel plans.

You reluctantly agreed, telling Pablo you would be home in about 30 minutes, before you began to tidy your workspace. You sent a polite yet pointed email to Aaron (with the head of department CC'ed) explaining that the work was too terrible to be corrected, and he should clear up some time in September to train with you before the season began in earnest and you would be too busy to teach him how to spell "bradycardia".

It was always a humbling experience to pull into the driveway and park your beat up little car next to Gavi's team-sponsored beauty. You were dreading the day he upgraded to something nicer - the neighbors would start thinking that someone was there to rob him. He was already standing at the door smiling wide when you pulled in. He walked up to your door, grabbing all your bags and ushering you inside away from the heat. This had become a regular for Gavi - tracking your location to greet you the second you arrived - so there was really no need to question it anymore. You leaned over and kissed his cheek, eternally grateful for the gentleness he showed you. After a quick yet heated rant about the incompetence of some of the students in your program, you headed upstairs to continue packing.

"Pablo, you think I need to pack more than two dresses?" You asked, looking over the satins and crocheted pieces that your friend ensured you was "totally in".

"I don't think you need to pack any dresses. Or even clothes for that matter."

You raised an eyebrow at your boyfriend, who was leaning casually against the doorframe.

"Am I supposed to be naked for the whole trip?"

"Not the whole trip. Just pack some bikinis for during the day and some cute underwear for the night. The outfit you wear to the airport should be more than enough incase we ever need to leave." He walked over to where you stood in contemplation, arms wrapping tightly around your waist, and his head resting on your shoulder in the perfect position to kiss your neck.

"Be serious, Pablo. What if we want to go for a nice dinner for your birthday? I can't go in a thong or in my plane sweats."

He didn't stop his attack on your neck for an instant, addicted to the warmth and taste of your skin on his tongue.

"Mi amor, mi sol, mi vida - at the risk of being vulgar, I have to say that you will be the nice dinner on my birthday."

Your eyes went wide at this statement, and suddenly you were glad for his arms there to keep you upright.

"I don't even think I have more than one bikini that still fits."

At this, Gavi released you, running to the closet with your yells to slow down behind him (if you had a euro for every time you told him not to run in socks, you could pay off the club's debt). He came shuffling back out with a large black bag, which he promptly dumped out onto the comforter. There were at least ten swimwear sets in various colors and prints, ranging from polka dots to stripes to... was that cheetah print?

"I picked these out the other day. Well, actually, that's a lie. I sent your size to Aurora, and she placed the order online and I just picked up the bag at the store. Can you imagine what Instagram would do with pictures of me buying lingerie?"

"But there's no lingerie here?"

"Fuck." He scampered off once again, returning with another bag to repeat his previous actions. This time the contents were much more sultry, with dark silks and satins staring back up at you. Mainly reds and blacks littered the pale covers.

"Pablo, you shouldn't have. This is too sweet! But we are only going for three days. There's like a month worth of stuff here."

"Are you planning on never going out again after this trip? Just pick your favorites for this weekend. The rest will be waiting for you when you get back, just in case we ever go to the pool or you want to surprise your football star boyfriend by wearing these to work."

You couldn't even be mad at his words when your heart was so full from his gesture. Pablo was always buying you things - that was nothing new. But you had been worrying for days about not looking good on this trip, not having anything new to wear, and he took that burden off your shoulders.

"So I can pick any of these? They look expensive."

"Ay Doctora, don't upset me. Nothing is worth more than your happiness. I do have one request though."

"Yes, mi amor?"

"You have to wear this one on my birthday," he said while reaching past you to pick up a white bikini with red cherries printed all over.

"Why is that?"

"Because you're like the cherry on top of my birthday cake. You always look good, but I want you to look irresistible."

"Okay, let's relax that's a lot of talk for a- oh my God." Your eyes widened, and you grabbed Pablo's face with a dropped jaw.

"Are you okay?"

"Oh my God."

"You said that already."

"Pablo!"

"Yes, princesa?"

"An adult. You're going to be an adult tomorrow. As in not a teenager."

"We arrive at like 11pm so it's more like I won't be a teenager anymore tonig- are you crying?"

"I'm not going to have a teenage boyfriend anymore!" You threw your arms around him, hugging him so tightly there was a fear of his ribs cracking.

"I feel like I should be offended by this statement."

~

"3...2...1... Happy 20th birthday Pablito!" You said softly, a single cupcake with a lit candle on the top held before the birthday boy. It was the same as the previous year (iykyk), but this time with a red and yellow swirl to match the Spanish national team.

"Thank you, mi vida." He closed his eyes, deep in thought regarding his wish, and blew out the candle. He scooped up a dollop of frosting, placing it on your lips before kissing it gently away.

"I can't believe I get to spend another birthday with you," he whispered out, scared that anything louder would destroy the gentle atmosphere around the two of you.

After sharing more sugary kisses, you fell asleep on Pablo's chest, soothed to sleep by his slow heart beat and rhythmic breathing. You woke before him, placing a kiss on his forehead before getting up to dress, snickering quietly at his snoring. The poor boy was so exhausted. You put on the swimsuit he had picked for you, the material fitting you stunningly. You looked at yourself in the mirror and couldn't help but smile. The white and red complemented your skin, your hair framing your face still bare and slightly puffed with the remnants of sleep. Gavi's necklace dangled between your collar bones, the metal cool on your skin. Everything on your body was an expression of love.

Stepping out of the bathroom in your bikini and wrap around skirt, you found the bed suspiciously empty. There was a light breeze coming from the terrace, where you found your boyfriend leaning shirtless on the railing. As if sensing your stare, he turned over his shoulder and wave you to join him. The sun was starting to shine in earnest, the smell of the ocean filling your senses. There was no place you would rather be.

"Good morning, beautiful. I know I asked you to wear that, but I almost want you to take it off. You look too good - I'm scared I'll have to beat every other man away with a stick."

He took a seat on one of the deck chairs, and you took your rightful place on his lap, arms around his neck.

"Good thing this strip of beach is private then."

Your lips found his in a deep kiss, fingers traveling to play with the short strands at the nape of his neck. It was an intoxicating thing to kiss Pablo Gavi. His plush lips molded perfectly to yours, bringing you in impossibly closer. He was always so eager, gently nibbling on your bottom lip whenever he could catch it, soft breaths and little whines spurring you on. Neither of you could bring yourselves to stop, tongues tangled like high schoolers as you made out in the early August sun. His hands were firm on your hips, more for his benefit than yours. He was eager to drag you to the sand, but knew neither of you would leave the room if he allowed your hips to act on their own accord. He relaxed back, allowing you to take the lead, and whimpered a little louder when you bit his lip. It was your giggling that broke the kiss, and you rested your forehead against his, breathless and chest heaving.

"Big Bad Gavi likes having his lip bit. Who would've thought?"

He whined again, finding the column of your neck and to town, nipping and sucking, unwilling to not have his lips and tongue occupied by you just yet. When you started digging into his biceps, he released you, admiring his handy work.

"Pablo people are going to see." You said, pout on your lips and big eyes trained on your boyfriend. He kissed your jutting bottom lip and lifted you off him.

"Like you said - good thing this beach is private."

~

Pablo had so many moments with you where he thought "she could never be more beautiful than this". The first was the first night you fell asleep on his couch, face peaceful with sleep. The next was under the stadium lights, as he thrust a trophy in your hands and lifted you above his shoulders. Then it was in some French hallway, in a ballgown with no heels as he kissed you senseless, finally brave enough to take what he wanted. In coffee shops and grocery store aisles and on his mattress, he always thought there was no possibility for you to be more stunning. But as you lay stretched out on the sand, eyes closed and muscles relaxed, he had the thought again. The sun tinted your skin slightly, making you gleam like a goddess that had just emerged from the sea. The bright white against your skin had Gavi tingling, wanting to remove the pure material and access what it was protecting.

Your hair was soaked, and you laid on your stomach in the sand to gain some color and dry off after the exertion of swimming with Gavi. The sun was phenomenal on your damp skin, and you had never been more at piece. You felt a hand creep up your back, and suddenly your chest wasn't as supported as it should have been.

"Pablo! Did you just undo my top?"

"I'm just unwrapping my present."

He brought you to sit on his lap once again, your loose top fighting to remain around your neck.

"How private is this beach?"

"You think I would let you go topless if there was a chance another soul would see?"

You felt like a teenager again, embarrassed and looking around frantically for someone who would catch you in such an act with your boyfriend.

"I heard beach sex sucks and I'm not eager to get sand in my vagina."

"We're not going to have sex on the beach. I may be more grown up, but I still like seeing boobs every once in a while."

"So you just want to look at them?"

"Among other things. You want to see my checklist?"

You wrapped your arms around his neck once again, kissing him deeply as he fully removed the fabric from your chest. He brought a hand to your back, pressing you against him, your breasts flush against his chest. It was a thrilling sensation, being topless and against your boyfriend with the sun beating down against you both.

Gavi laid back on the sound with you atop him, unclipping you hair to allow it to fall down your back. In your current situation, you were still covered enough to not face public indecency charges. He played with the strands of hair, weaving his fingers into the locks as his teeth caught your bottom lip and sucked on it like his favorite hard candy.

"I'm going to have sand in my hair."

"Guess we'll just have to take a bath together so I can wash it for you."

You kissed him again, his fingers trailing up your torso and brushing the sides of your boobs, sparking electricity in their path. It was so high school: topless on a beach, making out with your boyfriend. But made you stir low in your stomach, a mix of desire and the deepest form of love. You loved Pablo Gavi. You loved his little antics, you loved the pleasure he brought to every aspect of your life.

"Enjoying your birthday so far?" You asked, reluctantly pulling away from his lips, chest heaving against his. Gavi took the opportunity to grab your breasts and squeeze lightly, playing with them like it was his favorite activity in the world.

"More than I can even express."

He brought you against him, arms around you and bodied pressed together, and laid back down.

"So you just wanted to feel me up while we make out?"

"I want to feel you against me, mi amor. I want you to feel how hard my heart beats when I'm around you. I want to do everything that comes to my mind with you. Being topless on the beach. Ordering everything on the hotel menu. Skinny dipping at midnight. Every experience in my life is better when you're in it. I want to make every memory with you, so that when we're old and hold hands in our matching wheelchairs, I can say "Hey remember when we were hot and young and topless making out in Ibiza?" I want to do everything in the world with you."

You pressed your lips to his again, a deep kiss that winded the both of you.

"I love you, Pablo. Happy birthday."

"I love you more, Doctora."

~~~

Okay here it is!! Happy birthday to the love of my life, the light of my soul, Pablo Gavi. I love this boy more than I can express, and he represents so much good in my life. I hope his 20th year is filled with every happiness in the world.

As usual, please like, comment, reblog - all the good stuff. If you like this dynamic, I have a full 10 part series of these two idiots in my masterlist. I also have an ongoing Pedri series! Check that out if it's more your speed.

Please also take a moment to check out the links on my pinned post to help families in Palestine. If you don't have the money to donate but still want to help, every comment with a watermelon emoji under my pedri posts = $1 I donate on your behalf. I think that's all I have to say. Love y'all <3

xoxo, GUB

[charlietheepicwriter7]

V The Mysterious Wayne Family

Dick Grayson V Gotham - Chapter 2

“Why can’t I sit in the front seat?” Danny demanded to know, crossing his arms from the back of Dick’s car. 

Dick sighed, peering back at him with the rearview mirror. He’d been shaky as they escaped the apartment without getting attacked by the media. Did the idiot get sick? Was the media in this dimension such a big threat? 

Truthfully, Danny didn’t know a lot about this dimension, despite having lived in it for around a year. That year was spent almost entirely homeless, spending only the last few weeks with Dick. Otherwise, he was sleeping where he could, spending his days in libraries and conning people out of cash as a child medium. 

…Well, calling it “conning” was a bit of an overstatement. He did get people in contact with dead relatives and the like. He just… didn’t always quote them exactly, especially when it meant he could get enough money to eat for the day. 

“It’s unsafe, Danny, you know that.”

Danny glared at him from his booster seat, which put him perfectly at eye level so he could lock eyes with Dick with the rear-view mirror. He hated this whole situation: the booster seat, his age, needing to rely on an adult, the stupid media, the stupid police, the stupid Dick… Okay, he kinda liked the booster seat. It was based off of some hero—Superbman—who was an alien? But looked like a human?

That may be one of the biggest differences between this dimension and his hom–the dimension he was born in. Danny had been one of the only heroes back there, along with Valerie and Dani, if you could even call them heroes. In this dimension? There were hundreds. There were space aliens to normal people in costumes to other humans with powers, and while not all of them were heroes, a lot of them were. 

And Danny hated how easy they had it. 

Every day back in Amity Park was a fight for acceptance, a battle to convince people that yes, he was a ghost with good intentions, only for that trust to be lost the moment he wasn’t fast enough to stop a ghost from hurting someone, or got thrown through a wall trying to protect people. It was constantly one step forward and one step back, and nothing Sam or Tucker or Jazz said ever truly made him okay with it.

Despite everything, he hoped Amity Park was doing alright without him. He couldn’t go back—wouldn’t go back, even if he had an open portal and his powers, not after what happened—but hopefully they were doing okay. 

He hoped his rogues had listened and stayed away from the Fenton portal. For their own safety.

Like every time he thought of his pa–the Fentons, the scars across his chest flared up. They might have been long-healed, but the pain always lingered, a sharp lance that lingered in the thin skin of his wound. Fiddling around in his pocket, Danny found his juul and puffed. Exhaling, a bubble gum smoke filled the cabin as the CBD started to work its way into his blood. 

Dick coughed. “You know you won’t be able to do that in the manor, right?”

Danny grumbled, rolling down the window a crack. 

“I’m serious, Danny. I know you need it, but the rules are different at the manor. You’ll need to go outside to smoke.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll smoke outside. Wouldn’t want your gramps to get bent out of shape.”

He laughed. “I think Alfred would be alright, once we explain your medical issues. It’s Bruce we’ll have to worry about. He’s got this thing about drugs… once he learns what’s in your juul, he do whatever it takes to get you off it. He won’t even listen if we tell him about your chronic pain, he’ll just think you’re lying!” Dick threw his hand up in the air. “Honestly, it’s just lecture after lecture with him.”

“He can suck a cock then!”

Dick laughed, all traces of anger gone as his bright eyes glanced at him through the mirror. “Say that to his face, and you get ice cream for a week.”

“Done!”

The illusive Bruce Wayne. Danny had heard the name from the TV that morning, and apparently he was Dick’s dad. Not that Dick ever mentioned him in the months they knew each other. Not that this Bruce guy ever visited on the occasions Dick managed to convince him to stay the night, nor in the weeks after his foster placement was finalized. Danny didn’t even know Dick had a dad until this morning, so clearly something was going on here. 

If he focused on this case—the mystery behind the estrangement of Dick and Bruce—then he’d finally be able to get his mind off Mrs. Bennett’s case. The Shade had approached him early that morning, flickering in the moonlight, barely visible and just formed. Her case was so easy too; her killer was her son-in-law, she’d been awake when he killed her and he’d definitely left behind evidence too, but there was no telling if the other detectives at Bludhaven PD would find it. Or would care enough to find it. 

Corrupt bastards. 

Speaking of which—”Are we actually going to be able to consult on cases while we’re in Gotham, or was that just something you said to make me feel better?”

“I believe I said case, as in the singular one with Mrs. Bennett. But yes, I’ve already arranged it with the Commissioner.” 

“But she works for the Damir family! We can’t trust her.”

“We can’t trust her when it comes to cases related to the Damir family,” Dick corrected. “Other than that, she’s decent at her job.”

“That’s not a compliment.”

“She’s better than the other officers in our department?” he tried again.

“Also not a compliment. I’ve met dead guys that are better cops.”

They bantered back and forth, but the closer they got to Gotham, the tenser Dick became. Dick wasn’t the type to get serious out of nowhere—the only times Danny could remember were when a case involved a gang or that one terrible time when some ugly-ass assassin with a stupid-ass name came to town—but whatever was waiting for them… must be bad. Right? 

Gotham, Danny noticed as they drove through town, looked better than Bludhaven, like how rats look better than turds. Danny had heard the rumors about Gotham, mostly about all the dangerous villains, but there was clearly some money going into infrastructure. Beautiful gothic buildings dripping with gargoyles towered overhead, and there weren’t nearly as many boarded up shops and potholes. 

It wouldn’t have been a bad place to set up shop if it weren’t for all the Shades around.

The ghost population of this dimension mostly comprised of Shades with the occasional Poltergeists and Wraiths. Ectoplasm wasn’t as accessible here; just traveling to this dimension had stripped Danny of almost all the ectoplasm in his body and he still hadn’t recovered, so his powers barely worked. But Shades were shadows of humans when they were alive, weak and incorporeal unless you were a ghost too, barely kept together with their obsession.

Bludhaven had a lot of Shades. That’s why Danny settled down there when he first arrived. He wanted to help people move on if he could, either by solving their murder or contacting their loved ones. 

If Bludhaven had a lot of Shades, Gotham had a colossal number. 

Shades clogged the walkways and the streets, dissipating when someone or something went through them and reforming in an instant. Some alleys were plugged with them and some alleys were empty. Danny watched with wide eyes. Ghosts were supposed to be rare. He’d thought ghosts were rare. But Gotham was plagued with violent crime… violent, unique, indescribable crime, worse in intensity from Bludhaven, but not quite there in frequency. There were women with their faces melted off, men ripped in half down the center, children blown to bits, creeping around the streets of Gotham. 

Danny sunk down in his booster seat. “I want to go home,” he admitted quietly. 

Dick sighed. “I know, kiddo. I want to go home too.”

He blinked away stubborn tears. Dick didn’t understand. This wasn’t Danny’s home, this dimension wasn’t Danny’s home, Dick wasn’t Danny’s home (as much as Danny appreciated Dick, he wanted his family, but they hated him, they attacked him, they—)

Dick continued talking. “But you know what? Everything’s going to be okay. Because my grandfather is going to love you. And Bruce— He’s a little rough around the edges and we might not get along right now, but he’s going to love you too.” Dick sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than Danny. “Tim’s going to adore you; he’s told me that he’s always wanted a younger sibling and I can’t blame him; his house looks so lonely and his parents were always gone. He’s staying with Bruce now as a foster since his dad’s in a coma, but he’s been family long before that…”

He listened to Dick continue to ramble about his family. Bruce was rarely touched upon in his stories, but Alfred was spoken of with unmistakable love (Danny never knew his grandparents, Mom and Dad were disowned years before he was born, he could probably guess why), and he clearly adored Tim (He could understand that, Danny loved Jazz with his entire soul, but what would it have been like if he had a younger sibling? Would his relationship with Dani have turned into this if they could’ve spent time together?). Dick continued with stories about his best friend and ex-girlfriend, Barabra (Sam and Tuck, Tuck and Sam, his friends were dead and it's his fault—), and even a few including Tim’s ex-girlfriend too.

He closed his eyes and tried not to think. 

Before long, the car slowed to a stop. Ahead of them was a grand manor, the kind shown in those regency tv shows that Jazz loved watching, with obsessively maintained gardens and beautiful, clean exterior. A stone staircase led up to larger-than-life wooden doors; Danny couldn’t identify what kind of wood, but it was probably something expensive and old. Mahogany? That sounded like an expensive wood. 

Dick put the car in park before turning around in his seat to look at Danny. “Alright, buddy. Are you ready to meet our family?”

“Your family,” Danny corrected mulishly, unbuckling his seat belt. 

“Our family,” Dick said again, smiling. “They’re good people, and they’re going to be here for you.”

“Sure.” Sliding out of his seat and out of the car, Danny stayed slightly behind Dick as they walked up the steps and to the front door. Before Dick could knock or find the doorbell, the doors opened to reveal an old stereotypical butler. He even had a British accent! “Master Grayson,” he addressed Dick coolly, but when he looked at Danny, his expression softened. “And Young Master Daniel. It is good to finally meet you, and welcome to Wayne Manor. I am the family butler, Alfred Pennyworth.”

Danny ducked away. “Danny’s fine,” came his muttered response. 

Alfred smiled. “Young Master Danny, then. Come along; Master Bruce is waiting for you both in the foyer.” 

Dick grimaced. Did that mean something bad? What was a foyer, a fancy word for office? Was Dick going to get scolded?

They followed Alfred into the house (although, calling it a house felt like an understatement). It was even fancier inside, with marble floors and a glistening chandelier overhead. Danny felt significantly out of place in his jeans and ratty coat he’d pulled out of the trash.

There was a man pacing in the room (was this the foyer?). He was dressed in a fancy suit and built like a brick house, but looked similar enough to Dick in a weird funhouse-mirror way. The moment he saw them, his face smoothed into a banal smile and Danny immediately didn’t like him. “Dick! You’re home.” Striding up to them, the man immediately hugged Dick, who stiffly returned it. “Welcome back, chum. And who’s this?”

Dick’s smile was strained. “This is my foster son, Danny. Danny, this is Bruce; I was his ward until I turned 18.” Ouch. Not even a foster son, but a ward? That sounded like a significant step down from fostering. Danny glared at Bruce, who seemed taken aback by his hostility. Dick laughed nervously. “Sorry about him, he’s shy.” Now Danny glared at Dick. 

Bruce’s smiled evened out as he crouched down, like that would hide his fucking massive body. “It’s nice to meet you, Danny,” he said. “I’m very happy you're here. Hopefully it’ll be a lot more peaceful now that you’re staying with us.”

Danny scowled. “Suck a cock, douchebag.”

Bruce’s smile dropped as Dick smothered a laugh. “Watch your mouth,” Dick scolded without any heat behind it. Danny smirked. 

“It’s okay, Dick,” Bruce said, straightening up. “I’m sure Danny’s just shaken up from the sudden change. I’m feel the same, since you didn’t tell any of your friends or family that you were taking in a child.”

“Oh, so you can adopt a child without telling anyone, but when I do it—”

Alfred stepped in. “If you both could contain yourselves a minute longer, I can get the Young Masters settled in. I’ve already arranged a room for you in the family ward, Young Master Danny, if you’d like to rest? It is still rather early in the morning.”

“It might be better to give him a tour of the manor before anything else,” Dick said, eyeing Danny warrily. 

“I’m not going to get lost.”

“Mhmm.” Dick didn’t believe him. 

“I’m not!”

“Just like how you didn’t get lost at the precinct? Or at the morgue? Or at—”

“I never got lost on the streets!” Danny thought that was rather impressive. Besides, it’s not his fault the morgue was just empty hallways that all looked the same!

“The streets are labeled. Besides, you’ll never know where the in-house theater is without a tour.” Dick winked, like that was a big selling point. 

Bruce interrupted them. “Why don't you give him a tour after we talk, Dick? It’s been a long time since we last spoke and I was hoping to ask you about your… recent life change.”

Dick pinched the bridge of nose. “Of course you want to start the interrogation right away,” he muttered, eyebrows furrowed. “Alright, but I don’t want Danny to hear this. Alfie, could you– Tim!” Following Dick’s glance, Danny found a teenager in his fancy pajamas standing on the stairs leading to the second floor. The teen, who looked enough like Dick to be his brother and Bruce’s son, rubbed his eyes like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “Tim can take you on the tour! Come on, Danny.” 

Dick ushered Danny up the stairs to Tim. “Will you be okay without me?” Danny asked, not wanting to leave Dick alone with Bruce.

He got a bright smile in return. Danny didn’t trust it. “Of course I will, kiddo. Don’t worry about me, just focus on having fun with Timmy.”

Tim looked blearily between them. “What is going on?”

“You’re taking Danny on a tour so he doesn’t hear me and Bruce fight,” Dick told him plainly. “Danny, this is my brother and Bruce’s foster son, Tim. Tim, this is my foster son, Danny. You two have fun!”

Ignoring Tim’s protests that he hadn’t had breakfast yet, Dick pushed them up the stairs and into the immediate hallway, closing the door behind him. They stared at each other for a moment before Danny pressed his ear against the crack in the door. “When did Dick get a kid?” Tim asked.

“Like, three weeks ago, keep up.” Tim tried to say something again, but Danny shushed him. After a moment, Tim joined him in eavesdropping by the door. 

Dick spoke. “I’ll start. I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you both I was fostering a kid. I was planning to inform you after the two month mark and Danny had settled in a bit more, but obviously that plan is out the window.”

“I accept your apology, Master Dick,” Alfred said, and there was a sigh of relief. “However, I would still like to know how this happened in the first place.”

“I’m more interested in knowing how you managed to foster him without us being interviewed as character references.”

“...I may have used my boss’ influence to make sure that only my co-workers were interviewed?” Dick admitted.

“Master Richard.”

“I’m sorry, Alfie, but he’s a flight risk! Do you know how many times I managed to get him to come home with me only for him to disappear in the middle of the night!? Fourteen times! Danny’s admitted that he ran away from his previous home, he still hasn’t told me his real last name, and he’s paranoid enough to give Bruce a run for his money! I’ve just barely managed to gain his trust. I didn’t need Bruce being Bruce to ruin it for us—”

“If you had asked me to stay away, I would have—”

“No you wouldn’t, Bruce! You’d pick and prod and try to uncover his every little secret because you don’t trust me to figure it out myself! If Danny had suspected that someone was looking into his past, he would have bolted, B. And I would have lost him forever.”

Danny nodded. He would have. Not that Bruce would have found anything about his past–the perks of getting stuck in an alternate dimension–but some rich asshole poking his nose in his business? Danny would have snuck onto the next bus out of the city.

“You can barely take care of yourself, Dick!” Bruce insisted. “If it was such a dire situation, then you could have contacted me and I would have–”

“–Lost him immediately because he has a strange hatred for billionaires?” Dick scoffed. “He wouldn’t let you get within six feet of him if you tried to take custody.”

“I–”

“He bites too.”

“Dick–”

“Hard.”

“Richard–”

“And it’s pretty bold of you to say I can’t take care of myself. Have you looked in the mirror recently? Because the word hypocrite is written across your forehead in crayon.”

“But I’m not the one who struggles to make rent each month.” Danny flinched. He’d known that Dick didn’t get paid that much, but was it really that bad? Didn’t Dick get a pay increase when he was made detective? Or was Danny taking so much money that it negated the pay increase— “Nevertheless, I’m not trying to take custody away from you, Dick. I’m just… trying to figure out how we got to this point.”

“We got to this point by not trusting each other,” Dick said tiredly. “And I still don’t trust you, not after what you did.”

Dick, I–”

“No, Bruce. This is my life. Besides you were only a few years older than me when my parents died and you decided to raise me on your own. It’s hypocritical for you to complain that I’m doing the same. Look, I’ve known Danny for over a year–”

“You mean you’ve hid this from me for over a year?”

“Bruce–”

“I knew I should have been suspicious when you got that foster license. You’ve been planning this for months–”

“Bruce!” Dick snapped, and Danny had never heard Dick that mad before, not even the first time they met. “Obviously I’ve been planning this for months! I’ve been planning this since the first week I met Danny! The only reason I got that damn license was for him!” He felt… warm. Danny knew that foster licenses were hard to get, but Dick had really wanted him since the week they met. Danny had been so… feral back then, he couldn’t imagine anyone wanting him, not even Jazz. Dick continued, voice barely audible through the door. “He’s a good kid. You don’t have anything to worry about.”

A sigh. “I just… don’t want you to do anything you’ll regret, that’s all.”

“Are you saying you regret adopting me?” The angry voice was back. “Adopting Jason?”

“That’s not what I meant—!”

Tim pulled him away from the door. “We shouldn’t be listening to this. Come on, let’s start that tour you need.”

Danny tried to pull away, but Tim was deceptively strong for his thin frame. Despite his struggles, he was halfway down the hall before he knew it. “Let me go, cocksleeve!”

“You don’t need to hear that,” Tim said. “Trust me, things always get… heated between them, when Jason is brought up. That’s not something you need to witness.”

Jason, huh? That must be the linchpin in this entire investigation. Dick had never mentioned a Jason before, but he was clearly important if the entire family got bent out of shape for him. Did Dick cut contact with Bruce because of this Jason? Did Jason force Dick to do it? Dick would never abandon his family like that, Danny knew this had to be true because of his determination in trying to take Danny home, but if he was forced to stay away… Maybe Jason is an associate of Bruce that Dick hates?

Danny finally managed to jerk his arm away. His entire hand ached. “You don’t have to drag me!”

Shock crossed Tim’s face, like he’d finally realized what he was doing, before it fell. “I’m sorry, Danny. I shouldn’t have pulled you. It’s just… Jason isn’t something you should hear about, at your age. I would appreciate it if you didn’t bring him up, especially around Bruce. Okay?”

Studying the boy, Danny agreed. Sounds like Jason’s some sort of criminal contact, so it was best to behave carefully. Danny kicked at the ground, scraping dirt off onto the carpet that ran in the center of the hall. “So, what do you guys do for fun around here?” He asked. “I don’t need a tour, I’m not a baby.”

Tim rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, I just spent the night in the library, working on a case? If you want to lend a hand with that?”

Danny narrowed his eyes. “I thought you just woke up?”

“...Just because I was in the library doesn’t mean I was awake the entire time.”

Ah, a fellow insomniac. His eyes narrowed further. “I only like interesting cases. What kind are we talking about? Fraud? Robbery? Some dinky school kid project?”

“Multiple homicides. If that’s interesting enough for you?”

“...Carry on.”

A/N: Anyway, I’m using @/jedipirateking’s age chart for the ages of Batman characters. Since we’re right before Under the Red Hood, that makes Dick 24. Danny is roughly a year younger than Damian, but was originally 17 before he was deaged. 

Dick: Yes, this is my feral street child. Danny: *foaming at the mouth, swearing*

Tim, internally: Oh! Dick must have already informed Danny about our identities! They work on cases together too, maybe we can work on one to bond? Danny, internally: Wow, rich people have weird ass hobbies

Danny: *so close, yet so far from figuring out the Jason thing* Red Hood: Did someone just walk over my fucking grave again?

Yes, some things are being kept vague on purpose. That’s for a better reveal in the future.

@starlightcat04 @maeashryver @widderwise @darkstarsapocalypse @sisma @luminanightfall @storm-fire98 @amyheart19 @collectingthegoods @redhoneysugarorange @lordfirecat2004 @screechingnoises @meira-3919 @dannyphannypack @satisfactionbroughtmeback @rowanaway-fromthisbs @i-always-say-yea @avelnfear @some-rotten-nest @ark12 @heirxofxtime @akikkobara @blep-23 @skulld3mort-1fan @markus209 @stargirl1331 @onlyhereforthechaos @inth3world @awkwardmaiden @fantasticbluebirdfan @currant-owo @alice-hazelwood @screamingtofillthevoid @crystalqueertea @gaelicholiday @gmkelz11 @mattybook1987-blog @bytheoldwillowtree @apointlessbox @chemical-pepis @ghostface3100 @idontgetpaidenoughforthisshit @bathildaburp @boo-ghosties @bubblemixer @halfalix @lyra689 @dragon-dancer16 @lunadoll36 @mimilikey @hellomygay @frogs-are-pretty-awesom @overtherose @cyrwrites @your-emo-nightmare @lexdamo @roman4517 @a-slytherinish-gryffindor @raginblastocyst @thegatorsgoose @fisticuffsatapplebees @olivethetreebitch @vixen-uchiha @ae-vixrose @joseph557 @kisatamao @gin2212 @thewondersoflebanon @d4ydr34min9 @malice-of-the-sunrise @tiblii @that-awkward-fae-nerd @aph-mable @dolfay @ghostreblogging @wackyattack @writer-extraordinaire @boo-ghosties @coruscateselene @emergentpanda-blog

[caribbean1989]

Stage Fright - a Baby Lasagna fanfiction

Who: Marko Purisic / Baby Lasagna Request: maybe smt where you work for esc and marko has a panic attack before going on the stage and your there for him calming him down and stuff. just angsty with lots of comfort. Requested by: anonymous. Word count: 2010 Warnings: contains descriptions of panic attack / anxiety / stage fright. Lots of angst, but also some comfort 😇

A/N: I usually write footballer imagines and fandom whump, so writing something like this is quite new to me. Hope you'll like it, let me know what you think of it 😇 If you want me to write more like this, you can always make a request through my Asks 😉

This story can also be found on my AO3 account, here. For more information on my Baby Lasagna fanfics, see this masterpost.

At your job working backstage at concerts and events, you were one of the people making sure everything went smoothly backstage, and that the performers had all they needed. This month you would be working at the Eurovision Song Contest. 

Today was the biggest day of all: the final.  You felt confident. Everything had been rehearsed endlessly, the semi-finals had already gone well, and you had built up a good relationship with most of the performers and their entourages. 

It was a nice group of artists this year, but one still was your personal favourite: Baby Lasagna. At first you were drawn to the Croatian candidate because of the rather unusual name, but you quickly learned he went by Marko off-stage, and was somewhat different from the other participants. He was a flamboyant personality on-stage, which proved to be the complete opposite of how his personality was off-stage. 

You didn’t need long to see Marko was actually rather shy, could be very insecure, and was humble and polite. There was a cheeky side to him as well once you got to know him better. You liked that about him, and, without actively trying to, you already formed a rather close friendship with him in only this short time of working together. 

That was why you immediately knew something was wrong when you found Marko sitting alone on the day of the final, huddled away from everything and everyone.  He sat amongst crates of sound equipment, on the floor, in a dark corner of the backstage maze, hugging his knees. His hands were clamped so tightly around his legs that his fingers had turned white, and he trembled like a leaf in the wind.  Marko had chosen a spot far from the foot traffic from and to the stage, hidden even from his own entourage, and it was a small miracle that you stumbled upon him like you had. 

"Marko?" You lowered yourself onto your haunches in front of him, but mindful to keep enough distance between yourselves so not to frighten him or make him feel more uncomfortable.

He looked disheveled, only vaguely aware of his surroundings, and surely not in control of his emotions.  In this moment he was not the extroverted Baby Lasagna, he was introverted Marko. The eccentric costume he wore on stage was replaced by regular jeans and a black hoodie. The make-up wasn’t applied yet, which might be a good thing, because you saw the tears on his face. The haunted look in his eyes scared you, worrying you even more about his well-being. 

Suddenly your mind went to a line from the song he was performing with here this week. 

My anxiety attacks.

Whilst Rim Tim Tagi Dim had people dancing all over the world, you couldn’t help but notice its darker meaning, too. And it clicked into place for you now. That line about anxiety wasn’t just a line. It actually held truth for Marko, and the proof of that was right in front of your eyes with him having a serious panic attack. 

"Marko?" You repeated softly.  His gaze flickered to you, but he didn’t acknowledge your presence in any other way.  "I need you to talk to me," you nudged carefully.  Marko swallowed hard. He made every effort to get himself to speak, but couldn’t. The words he meant to say got involuntarily silenced on their way to his mouth, and, finally, he just sadly shook his head. Fresh tears fell as he rested his forehead on his knees, shrinking even more into himself. 

Your heart broke for him. It was hard to believe you only met him a week and a half ago, with how much you already cared for him. 

Marko shivered in his hoodie. His breaths became even more rapid and shallow, accompanied by the occasional wheeze or whimper. He was losing more and more control over himself with every heartbeat of his racing pulse. Where first maybe only his hands had shook, there now wasn’t a muscle in his body that wasn’t shaking. He raised his head and looked up at you again, this time really seeing you. 

Marko’s lower lip trembled, and it took effort, but finally he got some words out. "Help me…" "I’m trying," you answered helplessly. You wanted nothing more than to help him, take him out of this panic attack, but you really had no idea where to begin. "Do you need me to bring someone from your team over?" "No!" Marko nearly jumped a foot into the air at the mere idea of that. "They don’t need to see me like this. I’m a mess, I…" "Calm down, calm down," you tried to ease. "We can do this. You and I, we can get you through this."

Having suffered from panic attacks yourself, you suddenly remembered what your sister used to do for you to get you to calm down. "Marko." You got his attention. "I want to try something to help you calm down. Are you okay with me touching you?" He still was in the height of his panic attack, with fear wild in his eyes, but he still nodded his head. He wasn’t sure what you had in mind, but he trusted you.

You scooted closer to him, fully sitting down on the floor by his side. Marko trembled heavier than ever and he was truly hyperventilating now. Tears sparkled in his eyes, but he gave in to you. He wanted for you to offer comfort and take him out of this anxiety. 

"Close your eyes," you said softly.  Marko hesitated for just a second, but slowly closed his eyes. He didn’t know you for that long, yet you felt secure and safe to him. "Whenever you’re no longer comfortable with anything I’m doing, you need to tell me," you insisted, "and I’ll stop immediately." Marko gave you a strained nod, but he surrendered to you. 

You moved slowly, making sure not to make any unexpected movements which would cause Marko any more fright.  You placed one of your hands flat on his chest. Only now you realised how heavy this panic attack actually was for him. His chest heaved and trembled under your hand, and now that you were closer to him, you heard the whimpers that were hidden in the wheezes of his breathing.  With your other hand you picked up his wrist, gently pressing two fingers against the pulse point. As you had expected, his heart was racing. 

"I need you to focus on my hand on your chest." You kept your voice as calm and serene as possible. Marko dipped his head once, eyes still firmly pressed shut.  "Whenever I press into your chest, I need you to breathe in through your nose, and try and press my hand away with your chest," you instructed, "when I release the pressure, you exhale slowly through your mouth." Marko wanted to speak, show you he had understood, but he found his words once again stolen from him by the panic attack. Instead, he dipped his head once again, but it was all the confirmation you needed. 

You slowly and gently pressed the palm of your hand a little firmer into his chest.  Marko took a shaky breath. He did his best to get his lungs to fill properly and get his chest to give counter-pressure against your hand, but couldn’t quite manage.  "It’s alright," you eased him, "take your time. Just focus on the rhythm of the pressure of my hand and try to breathe with that." You felt how Marko was really trying to, but also how he wasn’t succeeding yet. His inhales were broken by shudders, and his exhales disrupted by sudden and involuntary gulps.  "That’s it," you encouraged anyway, "easy does it."

Your hand never left his chest as you gently applied pressure and released it, with Marko doing his utmost best to get his breathing to fall in sync with it. You spoke soft encouragements, yet the silent moments in between were filled with Marko’s quiet whimpers.  It didn’t matter to you how long it would take, you would help Marko through this. 

---

Eventually, you sat with Marko like that for well over 30 minutes. There was no reason to rush anything. Soundchecks for the grand finale of tonight wouldn’t be starting for another few hours, so you gave him all the time he needed to pull himself out of this panic attack.

Marko’s pulse had returned to a regular, calm rhythm, as had his breathing. His trembling had subsided, but he sat beside you looking worn out from everything he had just gone through. 

You gently let your hand fall away from Marko’s chest for the first time again. You kept a close eye on him, but he was able to keep his breaths calm by himself now. "Open your eyes," you said softly. Marko slowly did so. Even though the area where you sat was dimly lit, he still squinted at the light. He ran slightly trembling fingers through his silvery hair, before he finally looked up at you sitting next to him. 

"I’m sorry about that." Marko sounded tired. "No need to apologise." You shook your head. "May I ask what happened?" "This happened." Marko chuckled wryly, motioning his hands to the area around you. "I’ve never performed at an event of this magnitude before. And… well, my stage fright took the better of me, I guess. It does that sometimes."

The airiness with which he spoke of his stage fright was pitiful, almost like it was the most common thing in the world for him. "But it doesn’t often get this bad, I reckon," you said sympathetically.  "No." Marko sighed heavily, running his fingers through his hair once more. "It doesn’t usually lead to a full-blown panic attack, and certainly not like this one, but, apparently, big stages lead to big anxiety." A dark chuckle followed. "That’s not even remotely funny," you scoffed. Marko gave a one-shouldered shrug. "I’m used to it by now."

He shifted his body, grunting softly as he stretched his cramped legs out in front of him. He leaned his head back against one of the crates behind him and glanced up at the ceiling for a moment. 

"But what you did really helped me." He spoke after a few seconds of silence. "I’m not quite sure I would have gotten through this one on my own, so I’m really grateful." You shrugged. "I’ve got a bit of experience with panic attacks as well, I’m afraid. So I know how bad they can get."

Marko’s gaze slowly shifted back to you. "Yourself or helping someone deal with it?" "Myself, unfortunately." You sat back into a more comfortable position, too. "Some events in life leave more scars than you can imagine," you added darkly.  "I’m sorry." Marko shortly rested a hand on your arm in support.  "What I just did with you, my sister used to do that for me whenever my anxiety flared up," you explained, "it always helped me through it, so…" You let your voice trail off.  "Well, tell her it’s a good technique." Marko winked lazily. "And I’m glad you’re the one who found me just now. Thank you." The sincere thankfulness was in his voice and in every fibre of his being. 

The two of you talked for a while longer, before Marko slowly hoisted himself back onto his feet. He looked steady again, ready to go, and a glimpse of the extroverted Baby Lasagna shone through the cracks again. 

"Will you be alright?" You stood back up, too.  "Yes." Marko nodded confidently. "I know it sounds strange, especially after what you’ve seen just now, but it feels like I needed to get this out of my system in order to be ready for tonight." You chuckled, glad to see the sparkle of joy back in his eyes, instead of the sparkle of tears and panic. "Come see me if anything threatens to overwhelm you again." Marko nodded gratefully. "I sure will."

[yuri-is-online]

Crewel fic au:

In this timeline yuu gets the yutu experience! Reader was in twisted wonderland till their late teens to early 20s which is long enough for crewel to boink them at least once.

When they're back to the normal world only then do they show signs of pregnancy; that's how our dear yuu came into existence.

Imagine crewel's perspective

You meet this goody two shoes and butt heads many times. You then learn that the reason why they act like the headmaster's puppy is because the only place they have is the ramshackle dorm. So you keep your distance and mind your business. Over years you get closer, through academic work, even start falling for them. On the edge of graduation, you decide to take them out. You're finally official! Graduation goes by, they move in with you. You guys have sex ONE time and then poof! They're gone the moment you leave for work.

Years later you advance your career and magical prowess and are now a teacher.A kid crashes the sorting ceremony with their familiar, The kid strangely resembles you.

Oh you know I considered doing this when I was outlining the fic. The timeline didn't exactly add up so I decided against it... but oooh you are so close to what I have in mind for Crewel and Reader's relationship dynamic:

It's a rivalmance of sorts... You certainty can't stand Divus when you meet him. He's a chain smoking, class class cutting bully who picks a fight the first time he sees you and then decides you're "friends" after you punch him in the face. You fight, make up, throw each other under the bus, lie to protect one another, and get defensive if anyone else tries to pull the same shit with the other. It gets more playful and less serious as the years go by, enough that if you were still there when someone asked you about how you got together you could laugh about it.

The main difference between Reader and Yuu in the Fyuutere kid Au is that you do still have your memories when you get home. If you came back with a child, you would know exactly why. Yuu learns a bit about their dad, enough that when they crash land in Twisted Wonderland and see Crewel for the first time math starts mathing in their head. Crewel on the other hand... he places a big emphasis on professionalism. Sure, this kid looks like you, says your name and calls you their parent. But he can't think of them as his, sure the math adds up and he sees himself in Yuu, but he is so determined to treat them like he would any other student that he ignores it.

That's not to say he wouldn't want it to be true though... he desperately does. Divus is still not over you, and he's sort of accepted that he probably never will be; at this point it is about enjoying his life and not obsessing over what could have been. When he learns the truth about Yuu that changes, he's very determined not to let them disappear like you did and to find a way to bring you back to Twisted Wonderland. If we keep with what I am planning for the fic he's extra determined to do that when he hears about your current fiancé and how much Yuu hates him. Not because he's jealous, don't be silly it's been years he just doesn't want to have to share custody across dimensions that sounds complicate-

It's because of jealousy, he can deny it all he likes but he's still a hot head deep down.

[nolita-fairytale]

burn your life down | chef luca x fem! reader | part seven

summary: you and luca go to a club opening and take an opportunity to learn more about each other.

warnings: fluff, smut (18+ only), eventual angst not use of y/n, conversations about divorce, slow burn, baby, second person pov, swearing, danish inaccuracies, very little connection to the world of the bear.

word count: 5.3k

listen to: the official 'burn your life down' playlist

a/n: hi cuties. here is a long chapter with a whole lot of juicy content considering i've been gone all week. i'm also hard launching what luca's last name could be in this series -- something i've brainstormed with @arctvrvs and @superhoeva. there IS smut so please be respectful of it being 18+ only content.

also: mild implication on reader/mc having some kind of asian heritage, but you can super not take it that way, which is why i wrote joe's family as japanese-english. let me know if you'd like to be added or removed from the taglist!

part six | masterlist | part eight

“Cool shoes,” you say, your eyes fixed to Luca’s choice of Nikes for the night, instantly chuckling to yourself as you realize how silly the words coming out of your mouth sound. It’s like you’re a kid again, sitting on the back of the bus with her crush, trying to come up with something– anything – to say.

Luca chuckles, stealing a glance your way as he replies, “Yeah I've got a bit of a thing for them – trainers.”

“I… noticed,” you say, exchanging a look with him, your eyes meeting his as the two of you sit side by side on the train.

“Oh yeah?” he asks, with a raised eyebrow. 

“Well, there’s the coffee table book – that and you wore some to the ballet,” you explain, a blush running across your cheeks. 

“You noticed that?” he questions with a hint of amusement in his voice, only a little surprised that you’ve picked up on the little things before he’s shared them with you. 

“I notice you,” you answer, your voice quieter, yet genuine in your admission.”

He smirks. 

“And?”

“And… so far, I like what I see,” you flirt, boldly, this time. 

The right side of his mouth turns up into a small smile, and while you’re too busy reading his facial expressions, Luca’s busy finding your hand with his. You can feel it: the lightest touch that sets off butterflies in your belly, his fingers tangling with yours as you ride the train with him to Vesterbro, the humble beginnings of something good. 

As Luca continues glancing over at you, he shakes his head incredulously, letting out a small laugh in the opposite direction. 

“Hmm?” you hum, inquisitively, stealing a glance his way this time. 

“You just ehm…” he trails off, almost as if he’s not sure how to say what he wants to say next. “... you look… really beautiful tonight.” 

“Uh-, I-, Thank you,” you stumble through, deciding you’ll just accept his compliment. 

It’s not like you don’t know it – didn’t know what you were doing when you put on the barely-there lace bodysuit meant to be a lingerie teddy, that lays perfectly layered underneath your high rise pair of denim. The plunge neckline is cut deep, showcasing quite a bit of inner boob, so much of your cleavage, that you put pasties on just in case. You can tell Luca’s having trouble not ogling you as you smirk, giving his hand a confident squeeze. 

As you get off the train and back up to street level, you discover that it’s not a long walk to where the newly-opened club is located. Luca hasn’t let go of your hand and you savor the feeling of new love as the two of you walk hand in hand. 

“So explain to me again what all the drama’s about again,” Luca requests, recalling something you previously mentioned. 

“Oh it’s a whole thing,” you sigh, as you begin trying to explain yesterday’s gossip. “The guy Jesper is dating is one of the guys opening the club. I don’t think it’s serious, perhaps just a… fling of sorts, but Jesper’s ex-girlfriend who he dated for two years is a… well, she’s a bit of an influencer and it’s a whole thing because she’ll be there too.”

“Ooof,” Luca sounds, giving you a grateful hand squeeze. 

“Yeah. Any ex girlfriends we might run into tonight?” you ask, only half-joking. 

Luca shakes his head, “I doubt it. I don’t get out much.” He pauses. “Think my last serious ex-girlfriend moved to Spain a year ago or so.”

You hum in response, momentarily relieved that the likelihood of running into any of Luca’s exes tonight is low, considering it wasn’t something you’d worried about until the words were coming out of your mouth. You’re ready to wait in the line that’s formed outside of the club until you hear the sharp sound of Jesper calling your name, waving you into the club. You watch as he exchanges words with the bartender, while Luca mutters something to you about how fancy he feels about skipping the line. 

You and Luca follow Jesper down the long, dark hallway, the feeling of pulsating music and a heavy bassline undulating underneath your feet with each step. It feels more like a grungy club in Berlin than Copenhagen, but it seems like it’s what they’re going for, and you thank your past-self for choosing to wear something this sexy. While you feel out of place, at least you look like you knew what you were getting yourself into. 

“I’m glad you made it!” Jesper shouts over the loud music as he leads you and Luca to a table in the VIP area. 

“What? Thought I’d skip?” you shout back with a raised eyebrow. 

This time, Jesper leans in closer, “Thought you and Prince Charming would have a hard time leaving the bedroom now that you two are-.”

“Jesper!”

“What?” he asks with a shrug, looking from you to Luca, who sends you a quizzical look of his own. 

You send him an ‘I’m so sorry’ look before ignoring Jesper’s comment. 

“I don’t think I’m drunk enough for this yet,” you say, and you’re only half-joking. 

“Can I get you a drink?” Luca asks, overhearing your comment. 

“Yes,” you nod, before telling him your drink order. 

“Great. I’ll go,” he offers, though it’s more like a confirmation than anything else. He leaves the sweetest peck on your lips, earning a look from Jesper as you watch Luca disappear into the crowd. 

“Please don’t tell me you haven’t-,” Jesper groans. 

“We haven’t,” you interject, firmly. 

“You’ve got more self control than I would,” Jesper sighs, disappointedly as he shakes his head your way. 

Before you can reply, a pair of arms are wrapping around you as Mathilde’s voice follows with:

“Jesus Christ! Who said you could be hotter than me at my brother’s fling’s club opening?” Mathilde teases you, giving you a big hug. 

“It’s not just a fling!” Jesper protests at the same time as you, replying with: “It’s good to see you too, Mathilde.”

It really had only been a few hours since you closed down the restaurant for the night, but seeing the Mikkelson twins off the clock was a whole other animal. You can imagine a time, when they were both single, that the two of them could have ruled the Copenhagen social scene – two fiery forces to be reckoned with. 

“So have we run into the ex-girlfriend yet?” you ask, desperate to get the spotlight off of whether you and Luca had slept together yet. 

“Ahhhh,” Mathilde smirks. “No sign yet, but my money is on a fashionably late arrival.”

“What’s the drama? Claudio knows you’re bi. You and Sofia ended on good terms. I don’t get it,” you ask, curiously. 

“Because it’s Claudio’s big night. And I don’t want anything to fuck with it,” Jesper begins. 

“And because Jesper’s a big drama queen,” Mathilde adds, as her brother glares at her in response. 

“Who cares about how the night goes,” you chime in, from the perspective of an optimist.

“So you and Luca…” Mathilde solicits, raising her eyebrows a few times cheekily. 

“It’s good,” you guys, a broad smile spreading across your lips. “I mean… it’s really, really good.”

It’s good morning texts. And funny cartoons he sends you from the paper. And using him as a soundboard for new dish ideas.

“I’m proud of you, babe,” Mathilde smiles proudly. “For taking the leap.”

“I-,” you begin, before pausing. “Me too. I’m proud of me too.”

It’s then that you see Luca appear, just at the opening of the VIP area, headed in your direction with Emil following closely behind. 

“Hey!” you greet the both of them as they approach. While Luca has your drinks, Emil carries a tray filled with shots that you're not entirely sure you’re ready for. Your eyes widen. “Shots?”

Emil only shrugs, as Jesper corrals you, Luca, and Mathilde for a round of shots. You all pick up the soon-to-be-yours shot glasses, as Luca scoots over so that he stands closely, next to you. 

He leans in, the feeling of his lips ghosting over your ear sends a chill down your spine as he murmurs, “How much do you want to bet we’ll regret this tomorrow?”

“Oh, so much,” you answer, turning ever so slightly towards him, your lips inchest away from his. 

“To a night of letting loose,” Jesper shouts over the loud music as he begins his toast. “To old friends.” He pauses, toasting his glass towards Luca this time. “And new.” 

“Skal!”

“Skal!” you all echo as you cheers. 

“Eye contact!” Jesper orders, earning a laugh from you and another questioning look from Luca. 

Over the electronic music and flashing laser lights, you take in the sound of shot glasses hitting the table, the faces made in response to the bitter liquid, the whoops and cheers of a triumphant first shot of the night. 

You set your shot glass down on the tray along with the other empty ones as Luca asks you:

“Eye contact?”

“Yeah,” you shrug in response, taking a more flirtatious approach as you continue your explanation. “You’ve gotta make eye contact while you cheers or it’s seven years of bad sex.”

“Huh,” Luca smirks in response as you take his hand. 

“I think I’m ready for a proper drink now,” you coo, a seductive tone in your voice that Luca hasn’t heard yet. 

He likes it. Not just because it’s for him, but because he likes discovering these new parts of you, unraveling you as he goes, finding something different every time. 

And the more he learns, the more he likes you. 

He really likes you.

Luca is quick to locate where he put your drinks down right before you started taking shots. He hands you yours, then goes for his this time, raising his glass towards you. 

“Cheers,” you say with a raise of an eyebrow. 

“Cheers,” he replies, clinking his glass with yours with immovable eye contact. 

You raise your glass to your lips, taking your first sip, as Luca does the same, holding your gaze the entire time as if it’s a damn promise. Before anything can get too heated (because you swear the way he’s looking at you could start a forest fire) you hear the sound of Mathilde’s voice as she saunters over to the two of you. 

“Luca!” you hear her call out. “Come. Have a sit. I want to know everything about you.” 

You giggle, watching her usher Luca away so that she can bombard him with questions, and your heart fills with warmth. He’s here – meeting your friends, meeting your people – and you don’t even feel like running in the opposite direction. 

-------------------------------

In tandem with the loud, pulsating dance music, you move your hips in a swaying motion, against the feel of Luca’s tall, broad body. You’ve got your arms wrapped around his neck and at this point, you’re quite sure you’ve lost count of the drinks you’ve had. 

That anyone’s had, really. 

“Have I told you how absolutely ravishing you look tonight?” Luca rasps, leaning down so that the sound he makes vibrates right against your ear. 

You let out a gasp, the feel of his body pressed up against yours and the sound of his voice all feel too good. 

“I think last time you said ‘beautiful,’” you tease him, playfully. 

“Why can’t it be both, darling?” he asks you, grinning down at you. 

Instead of answering, you pull him towards you, pressing your mouth to his in a passionate attempt, yet very sloppy, drunk kiss. 

Do you want to get out of here? is what you think he’s going to say, but instead, Luca pulls back from the kiss, only to lean in once more as he whispers in your ear:

“Are you hungry?”

You laugh at the unexpected question, and suddenly, it becomes apparent to you that you’re starving. 

“Yes. You wanna get out of here?” you ask back. 

“Lead the way.”

Knowing it’ll take longer than you’d like for it too, you bypass the idea of trying to find everyone to say goodbye, and skip right to the Irish Goodbye, leading Luca out of the noisy club and back out to the bustling streets that are the red light district. The two of you are blissfully drunk and giggly as you sit on the train, on the way back to your place.

You’re more than grateful that you live so close to the train station, since it’s only a quick walk back to your apartment.

“I can’t believe those girls from the train were only just starting their night’s. Can you believe it?” you ask with a giggle, as Luca follows you up the stairs of your walk up. You fidget with your keys, unlocking the door as you continue on about how you’re not twenty five anymore and tonight’s reminded you that you can barely keep up now.

But Luca doesn’t answer your question. 

Instead, as soon as you close the door behind you, he’s pressing you up against it and kissing you like he’s going off to war tomorrow. You sigh his name against his lips as you kiss him back, completely turned on by the brute force of a man as tall as him. Your head spins as you realize that he’s only just started kissing you and he’s already got you this hot and bothered. You can’t tell whether it’s the alcohol, the way his lips move expertly against yours, or the way his hands snake up your torso, inching dangerously close to the exposed skin of your plunging lace teddy. 

“Touch me,” you gasp as an encouragement, impatient with the way your nerves seem to be screaming for more of his touch.

“Oh fuck,” he groans, his large hands moving to cover your breasts, only confirming his suspicions that you’ve been braless this whole time. 

This new discovery leads to another moan from his mouth as his hands wrap around you, pulling you closer to him. Luca presses his forehead against yours, abruptly breaking the kiss, his breath heavier, more uneven now. 

“Fuck, I think I might be too pissed for this,” Luca murmurs, as you try to catch your breath, knowing that he means drunk. 

You giggle, as you admit, “That’s-. Yes. I… too am very drunk.” 

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” he starts up again, leaving a small kiss on your lips. “But I’m not sure that’s quite the impression I want to leave on you either.” 

“That’s… so respectable,” you say on an exhale, in pure disbelief of how perfect this man is. 

“Plus,” he continues, in between kisses as his lips begin to place gentle kisses along your jaw, your neck, your collarbone. “When we do finally sleep together. I want you to remember. Every. Single. Thing. I do to you.”

You’re not sure whether you feel completely sexually frustrated or entirely turned on by how responsible of a decision Luca’s making for the both of you, considering the circumstances. Luca leaves a trail of kisses up your neck once more earning a moan from you as manage to get out:

“Fuck, okay. Just let me cook you something.” 

You both laugh as he agrees to the terms of your agreement. You playfully shove Luca off of you, knowing that you won’t be able to function much longer if he stays pressed up against you like this. 

“Wait here,” you order, holding up your index finger as if to say, ‘give me a moment,’ before disappearing into your bedroom. 

-------------------------------

By the time you emerge from your bedroom, you’ve changed into one of your favorite t-shirts to sleep in – an old, mildly tattered Rolling Stones tee that you once bought at the thrift shop back in college. Luca’s kicked off his shoes and has found a few of your cookbooks that he’s started flipping through as you pull an amalgam of half-full frozen dumpling bags out of your freezer. With your pan on the stovetop preheating, you silently offer Luca a glass of water, before leaving a soft kiss on his lips once more. 

You put a little music on, just something soft for the background as you add oil to the increasingly hot pan. Luca hums along with the song that’s playing, cookbook in one hand, glass of water in the other, as he approaches you, making his way to the kitchen island that sits directly across from your gas stove. He settles in, placing both objects down on the counter top as he sits down on the barstool you have tucked underneath the kitchen island. 

There’s a quiet intimacy about the way you move around each other, so comfortable, so familiar, even if you’ve only just met within the last few months. The sound of sizzling hot oil as you place the first frozen dumpling down into the pan adds texture to the symphony of your evening: your choice of music, Luca’s soft humming, the way the pan slides against the coils of your gas stove as you shake it. 

“Did you grow up cooking like this?” Luca asks, breaking the comfortable silence between you. 

“Uh… yes. And also no,” you reply, cryptically, ready to explain more. 

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” Luca says with a chuckle. “You know… when I met you. When I first came to the restaurant… I was pleasantly surprised.” He takes a beat, taking a quick sip of water as he explains himself. “It’s just that the whole fusion thing got a little tired, a little too played out, but you seem to have given it new breath… new life.” Luca flips the page of the book he’s been examining. 

“And I recall you saying something about an Italian restaurant… so the Asian inspired flavors….”

“Yeah, no, it’s a great question,” you reply, turning to look at him as you let the bottoms of the dumplings crisp up. “So my mom was a single parent – raised me solo. Growing up we ate a lot of easy things… you know, like frozen dumplings… and lots of Stouffer’s lasagnas which… you could say that that combination alone is perhaps the foundation of discovering my culinary voice.” 

You chuckle, recalling your childhood memories as you share more.

“So no, I didn’t grow up cooking with her often. We didn’t do the whole… sit around a table and make dumplings for hours kind of thing, but Mom always has a bag of ‘em in the freezer and chili oil on hand. But yes, I grew up cooking like this, more so than anything I do now.”

Luca nods as he listens, his half smile growing as you so openly share about yourself. The way he responds to you – to learning about you – only makes you want to share more. It’s all true… but it’s not the whole story. 

“Do you have siblings?” he asks, curiously. 

“Nope, just me,” you answer, before deciding that you really do want to answer Luca’s initial question. 

“I actually learned a lot of this stuff – about miso, how to make a proper dashi, how to pleat dumplings – from Joe. From his mom,” you hesitate, before pausing. 

You want to check in with Luca, searching his face for any kind of reaction, before you proceed to talk about your ex husband considering you were so close to getting naked with him just minutes ago. 

“Is it okay… if I talk about him?” 

“Yeah,” Luca answers with a shrug, as if it were the simplest answer in the world. “He was a big part of your life – of you. And I like learning about you.” 

You accept his answer, trying your best to be cool about the fact that the level of emotional maturity it takes to respond that way really impresses the hell out of you. Realizing that it’s time to add water to your fry pan you turn your back to Luca momentarily once more. You add the smallest bit of water from your drinking glass, a white hot sound filling your ears as the cooking process goes from pan-frying to pan-steaming. You cover the pan tightly with its lid before turning back to Luca. 

“Joe’s family… they’re Japanese-English, which is really where I learned to start blending my own stories into food,” you explain, with an honesty that makes you feel incredibly naked right now. “His mom would teach me very traditional Japanese recipes when we first started dating – I think it’s how she knew how to connect with me, how we got to know each other, and I was more than eager to learn. we got to know each other. I… sort of always had a thing for food, for cooking, and learning things I didn’t necessarily learn in my immediate family unit… it was cool, you know? I just, I didn’t think it could really be a career, wasn’t my priority at the time to be an artist as the full-time gig.”

“But the more I learned from her, the more I realized that it wasn’t dissimilar from what I’d learned growing up inside of my best friend’s family’s Italian restaurant. And it all just kind of… grew from there. After Joe and I got divorced, I figured it was now or never, take the leap, do the thing I always wanted to do.”

“Opening a restaurant. That was your dream?” he asks, searching for confirmation. You nod as he smiles proudly. 

“And look at you now.”

“Yes,” you chuckle, taking a breath. “Yeah, somehow I now have a whole new life and restaurant in Copenhagen.”

“You do,” Luca nods, admiration evident in his eyes. 

You take a beat because the way he looks at you sends another rush through you, and this time, you know it’s not the alcohol. 

“While we’re on the subject… What about you? What are your parents like?” you ask, shifting the spotlight over to him this time. 

“Well, like you, I grew up mostly with a single mom,” Luca replies, as a flash of recognition flashes through your eyes. 

“Mostly?” you question. 

“Yeah um..” he trails off.

“We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t-,” you interject.

“No, I-, I want you to know,” he reassures you, a soft look in his eyes that makes you want to trust his word, as if he wants you to know him too. 

“Okay,” you say, softly. 

You’re not sure a man’s ever let you in like this before and it feels terrifying and electric all at once. 

“My full name is Luca Davies-Bernardi,” he starts. “...but I dropped the last part when I turned eighteen.” Luca flips another page over, glancing down quickly before he returns his gaze to yours. 

“My mum had me when she was pretty young. Got a bit of the short end of the stick when my dad left her and me. I was… three or four maybe? A real tosser, if you ask me.”

“Woah,” you sound on an exhale, as you listen. 

“Yeah,” he scoffs, before continuing. 

“He got another woman pregnant. Moved back to Italy instead of staying here with us. Apparently I’ve got a sister, out there… somewhere.”

You wait a beat before asking:

“And he never tried to keep in touch?”

“He tried,” Luca admits, a hint of bitterness in the way the words come out. “But I was a really angry kid. And as I grew older, I just didn’t see the point.”

“I’m sorry,” you apologize, empathetically. 

“No it’s-, I dunno,” Luca shrugs. “I much rather put my energy into my relationship with my mum. We’re actually quite close.” 

“Yeah?” you ask with a smile, because it really is the most darling thing you’ve ever heard. 

“Yeah,” he answers, leaning in to show you the larger forearm piece he has on his left arm. “I got this tattoo for her. She was a nurse… for most of my childhood. It’s what she had to do, so she worked a lot. I had a lot of time on my hands, perhaps why I got into so much trouble as a kid. Really put her through it till I started working in the kitchen.”

“You little rebel, you,” you tease him, with a giggle. Turning your attention back to your stovetop, you remove the lid and the pan for its heat source, before turning off the stove entirely. Giggling again you add, “You know, I’m just trying to picture it. 

“Oh, I’m sure I have a few old photos around my flat somewhere,” Luca laughs, as if it’s a promise that he’ll show you someday.

“Your mom sounds like a badass,” you sigh, making your way around your small kitchen island so that you’re standing right in front of him. 

“So does yours,” he replies, reaching for your hands. 

As your eyes take in the ink that adorns his hands and his arms, you drag your fingertips across the little designs: the A, the scotch bonnet, the nurse tattoo he got for his mother. 

“And I like them… your tattoos,” you finally say, breaking the momentary silence between the two of you. 

“Oh yeah?” he smirks, his eyes catching yours as you look up at him. 

“Yesssss. They are… very sexy,” you smirk in return, biting down on your lower lip as you run your fingertips along his inked forearms. 

“Glad you like ‘em. They’re permanent,” he preens, showing off cheekily

“Oh shut up,” you tease him as you place the gentlest peck against his full lips. 

He chuckles, pulling you in for another kiss, this time deepening it. 

As Luca kisses you, your mind wanders to his choice of words. 

Permanent. 

Of course it’s too freaking soon to think anything else of it other than this: 

If it were up to him, Luca’s not planning on going anywhere anytime soon. 

-------------------------------

As the morning light trickles in through your bedroom window, it dawns on you that you are not alone. You blink your eyes open, taking in the image of the gorgeous man that lays beside you. 

The one who you ate dumplings with on your couch in the early hours of the morning. The one that fell asleep with you in your bed last night, because there was no way in hell you were letting him walk home at 4 am. The one who's making your heart race and your head spin and who reminds you that there is romance in this world. 

Yep, that one. 

You slip out of bed, careful not to wake him as you get up to pee, the massive headache a result of far too many drinks consumed last night. You tiptoe into your kitchen, filling up your glasses from last night with fresh water before heading back to the bedroom. 

“Good idea,” Luca says, as he notices the glasses of water you return with. 

“Sorry, did I wake you?” you ask. 

He shakes his head, “It’s alright.”

“Figured they’d be helpful considering neither of us are 21 any more,” you joke in reference to the water, as Luca sits up in your bed. 

Handing him his glass, he happily takes it before taking a few greedy sips of water. It’s a silent exchange: he hands you the water glass and you place it back on your bedside table before crawling back into bed with him. 

The way you fit curled up against his side feels better than you imagined as he wraps an arm around your shoulders, whispering a soft ‘good morning.’ 

“Morning,” you reply softly. 

You’re not sure how long you lay there, or how long it takes, or who makes the first move, but one minute you’re peacefully snuggled up to Luca’s side, and the next, he’s all over you, rolling you over onto your back as he presses hot kisses to your mouth, to your neck, his hands snaking underneath your favorite Rolling Stones t-shirt as you sigh out his name. 

“Luca.”

“Yes, love?”

You repeat your plea from last night – now that neither of you are intoxicated. 

“Touch me.” 

No longer hesitant, Luca grabs at your breasts, his face buried in your neck as he sucks, kisses, leaves love bites all over you as you arch your chest up into his hands. Large hands cover each breast and you moan as you feel his thumbs graze your nipples, your breathing becoming heavier with each touch. 

“God, you’re incredible,” he murmurs into your skin, one hand making its way down your body at a smooth, slow pace. His fingers play with the waistband of your panties, and he knows that he’s got you in the palm of his hand as you’re more than impatient for him to continue his exploration. 

“May I?” he asks cooly.

You let out a frustrated moan, anticipating his touch like your life depends on it. 

“Please,” you beg, a desperateness in your voice that you’re unfamiliar with. 

“Well when you ask so nicely,” Luca smirks, cockily. 

You wish you had it in you to roll your eyes, to shake your head, to tell him to shut it, but as soon as his fingers slip into your panties, your mind goes blank. He sighs softly at the feel of you, then puts all of his energy into sliding your panties down your legs, the wet heat of you already slick with desire for him. 

“My god,” he groans, as soon as his fingers find the wetness that’s pooled between your legs. “This all for me?” 

And you don’t even have it in you to reply, letting out a loud, keening moan as his fingers slide through your folds, parting them as he explores new territory. They move up a few inches, dragging your wetness up and down your core, expertly finding your clit as you hiss in pleasure. 

“What do you think?” you bite back, letting out another moan. 

Luca smirks, watching as you writhe underneath him, enjoying the way you look at his mercy. 

“I think,” he begins, his fingers rubbing circles around your clit, earning a gasp from your mouth. “I know. That this is all for me.”

“Fuck!” you cry out as Luca pushes his index finger into you. 

The way you feel stretching around his finger elicits a moan from him too this time. 

“You’re so tight, love,” he groans, as if he’s getting off to the idea of you. 

You fall into a haze as Luca begins to fuck you with his finger. One. Then two. And before you know it, he’s moving at a rapid pace, his fingers buried deep inside of you, hitting that spongy spot inside of you that has you calling out his name while his thumb comes up to pay close attention to your clit once again. You’re on the edge, ready to come undone, the coil that’s building in your belly ready to burst. 

It’s all Luca, and fuck, and I’m so close, and yes right there, are met with groans of your name, eyes that look at you like you’re a work of art, and hands that are intent on bringing you to your climax. 

“I want to see you fall apart, love,” Luca commands, his voice low and raspy. 

And that’s all it takes for you to cum around his fingers while they work you through your climax so beautifully. You cry out his name, your eyes snapped shut as you experience one of the best orgasms you’ve had in a long time. 

“Holy shit,” you pant, trying your best to catch your breath as you come down. 

You whimper at the loss of him as he slides his fingers out of you, both hands come up to your torso as he kisses you passionately, deeply, breathlessly. 

“C’mon,” he says as he pulls away from the searing kiss, knowing that he is fully in control here. 

“Let’s get you some breakfast.”

-------------------------------

a/n: IS EVERYONE DOING OK BC WOW THE SEXUAL TENSION

[tanadrin]

Imagine one day a new social trend starts spreading. It’s something unbelievably dumb. Not harmful per de, but truly silly to believe. Let’s say, I dunno, healing crystals start going mainstream. Everybody’s talking about their crystals. It becomes impolite to criticize people who believe in healing crystals. They become a big part of people’s personalities, and people on TV start talking about them, and one day years down the line politicians are debating funding for crystal-based medicine. And through it all you are sitting there going, what the fuck is happening. I thought we were all on the same page on this. You want to get along and be friendly and open minded but you cannot pretend to believe in healing crystals, this is nonsense, and when the topic comes up you refuse to lie about it. This eventually starts to have social consequences—they’re that popular!—but what can you do? You cannot pretend a lump of quartz can cure the flu or whatever. It’s just all so unbearably embarrassing.

I think what the centrist/liberal/center-left reactionary turn driven by culture war stuff feels like. And I think the key emotion is probably cringe. Not hate, not fear, though those emotions may reinforce the turn. I think in a lot of cases people who imagine themselves pretty open minded and flexible have as part of their worldview something they thought was bedrock social consensus—on the level of “healing crystals are silly woo”—so bedrock maybe that it didn’t even need to be a conceptual boundary they actually policed in their minds.

For instance, when she started her anti-trans turn, JK Rowling made a big show of not being really anti trans, just arguing that Some People Had Gone Too Far. She wasn’t a frothing religious reactionary, after all. And I believe that’s probably true! I think Rowling probably did have a mental model of sex and gender with a little bit of give in it—of the “we can humor the odd weirdo” type. But as the discussion of trans rights in the UK got more serious over her lifetime, trans people went from “the odd weirdo” to “a recognized minority,” and eventually this ran against a bedrock belief that on some level men are men and women are women and never the twain shall meet. To act otherwise was just too embarrassing. And she wasn’t going to embarrass herself in the name of political correctness.

Other people whose brains have been eaten by the anti-woke mind virus (as @eightyonekilograms calls it) have something going of the contrarian in them, who enjoys yelling “up yours, woke moralists!” or w/e. Im thinking of ppl like Glenn Greenwald here, or Dave Chapelle, people who seem not to feel alive except when people are mad at them. That’s a separate but interesting dynamic. And there are people like Graham Linehan who become totally unhinged through this process of auto-radicalization, moths drawn ever closer to a particular source of validation within their chosen reactionary subcommunity, until they are truly parodies of themselves. That is also an important dynamic, but it’s one that only takes hold after the initial turn has begun.

I think the role of that feeling of cringe, that refusal to entertain an idea because it is too embarrassing (even if it does actually have a decent body of research behind it, unlike crystals) is important to think about, because I am interested in how to get people over it. I know that feeling has affected my own thinking over my lifetime. I wasn’t raised particularly conservative, but I had to learn not to cringe at a lot of feminist thought before I could appreciate it and learn from it. I explicitly didn’t have that cringe when it came to gay people for whatever reason, so it never entered my mind that it might be a problem. I remember being surprised to learn when I was very young that some boys wanted to marry other boys, but my response was “huh. Go figure.” Because for whatever reason I had not picked up that this was something I was supposed to be grossed out by. A general doctrine of empathy, of trying to understand people on their own terms, can help forestall some of this stuff, but it’s not foolproof in either direction—I don’t want to believe crystals have healing powers if it becomes socially popular to do so, just because it is socially popular to do so! And if they do, I don’t want to not believe they do just because it is socially unpopular!

(Obviously the crystals thing is not a one to one metaphor for the trans thing, so don’t read too much into that. Maybe astrology would have been a better analogy. Also I’m not talking just about people whose reactionary turn is predicated on trans issues—I think this dynamic applies to everything from gay rights to the Tridentine Mass. But trans issues are a handy example bc, as the adage goes, somebody posts once about trans people and they never post anything normal again. I think the classic rapid-onset trans derangement syndrome is closely tied to the fact that gender norms are a really deep element of many people’s social-consensus-based worldview, and so challenged to that worldview are felt as really cringe.)

I’m curious if other people who grew more liberal in their thinking over time had a similar experience of having to overcome what was basically a feeling of embarrassment at certain ideas.

[linghxr]

My 2023 in Mandopop/Chinese music (update & recs)

It’s been too long since I last shared some music recommendations/updates on what I’m listening to! Admittedly, I haven’t been discovering as many new artists because I’m busy listening to 薛之谦 on repeat. But we'll focus on the new.

You can check out my Spotify playlist featuring these songs (plus bonus ones). In addition, I’ve included YouTube links below.

五月天 / Mayday 五月天 is a legendary band, so of course I knew of them and had heard a few of their songs over the years. But I never proactively sought out their music until recently. I still haven’t had time to dive into their back catalog, but I’ve already found some songs I really love.

《我又初恋了》 I actually really didn’t like this song the first time I heard it, but it wormed its way into my brain. It’s just a lot of fun! Non-serious songs can be good too.

《转眼》 My favorite 五月天 song <3. I’m probably too young to fully appreciate the lyrics, but they make me feel so nostalgic and bittersweet, like transitioning to a new chapter of life and leaving the old behind.

《因为你 所以我》 This song didn’t stand out to me at first, but it grew on me! I caught myself humming it a lot. It‘s kind of corny, but it sounds so full of hope.

陈奕迅 / Eason Chan I first started listening to 陈奕迅 a couple years ago after my Album a Day August challenge, but I’ve found that his music has grown on me over time. I believe I’ve only mentioned him once before, so I thought now was a good time to highlight my favorite of his songs.

《之外》 This is probably my favorite 陈奕迅 song. The lyrics convey a sense of hopelessness, but the overall song has a smooth, light sound.

《娱乐天空》 You know a song is good when it’s over 6 minutes long but feels like it flies by! It makes me want to get up, get moving, and be productive.

《烟味》 This song is dramatic, and I love it for that. Also has a hint of orchestral flavor.

《淘汰》 One of 陈奕迅’s most well-known songs—for a good reason. It has big Cpop ballad vibes but is definitely livelier.

白举纲 / Bai Jugang You’re going to notice several mentions of 披荆斩棘 in this post. That’s where I “met” 白举纲. I instantly liked his voice and loved seeing him with his “brother” 高瀚宇 and “dad” 张晋! You may also see his music under his English name, Pax Congo.

《被动失控》 This is the only song on the list you could headbang to.

《Shy Boy》 I love this song because it’s cute and includes a children’s rhyme that I learned as a kid: 找啊找啊找朋友 找到一个好朋友.

苏诗丁 / Su Shiding At some point last year I did a one-month free trial of Apple Music. It was an interesting experience because the recommendations were very different from what Spotify tends to show me. I’m glad Apple Music led me to 苏诗丁!

《LUCIFER（傲慢宗罪）》 All I can say is that this song exudes coolness and confidence. It also has a fair bit of English, but honestly I had to look up the lyrics to tell what some of it was.

《梦幻病》 This song is from the same album. It’s dreamlike but gets more frantic as it builds. Overall, it’s just a bit…unsettling.

队长 / Young Captain I learned about 队长 from a random post on Instagram about his concert in Malaysia. I think these songs might have gone viral on 抖音 or something. I was surprised I liked them so much because they both have some rap (I’m not a rap fan), but it was love at first listen.

《11》 I love how this song builds towards the end. I spend the whole song waiting for the crescendo, and it’s great payoff.

《楼顶上的小斑鸠》 This song is like the slightly mellower sibling of the one above. But I ended up liking this one even more.

金志文 / Jin Zhiwen 金志文 was another artist who Apple Music recommended to me. I definitely need to explore his discography more but haven’t had the chance to do so yet. But he has some good stuff so far!

《自娱自乐》 Smooth and relaxing but in a fun way. Simple and no-frills but will put a smile on your face!

《远走高飞》 This one feels like enjoying the breeze on a beautiful sunny day. I also enjoy the duet with 徐佳莹 version.

163braces 163braces started out as a YouTuber posting song covers. I have watched a couple of her covers, but they didn’t leave much of an impression on me. I was pleasantly surprised by her foray into original music. I look forward to hearing what she does next!

《控制》 The song I would want as my “soundtrack” if I were a video game character. It’s energetic and loud.

《murmur》 Honestly this song is pretty similar to the first one. Sometimes I have trouble distinguishing them. But hey, if ain’t broke, don’t fix it.

小鬼 / Lil Ghost 小鬼 did what I can best describe as “pulling an MGK” by going from more rap to kinda pop-punk? That MGK album was my guilty pleasure when in came out, so I’m all for 小鬼’s new direction.

《Last Day》 This song really gave me MGK vibes. It’s about half in English, but I often don't even notice when he switches between languages.

《不良少年》 I just know I would have loved this song so much in high school. It’s an angsty teen anthem. 

《为明天写封信》 I can totally imagine this song playing at the end of a 2000s teen movie! Maybe while showing a montage of the main characters graduating.

《无所求必满载而归》 by 陈粒 / Chen Li This is technically cheating because I have recommended 陈粒 songs before, but it was at least a couple years ago. I heard this song covered on 披荆斩棘的哥哥 and immediately looked up the original. Honestly I should have known it was a 陈粒 song because you can totally tell it’s her style.

《轻红》 by 曹杨 / Young I keep coming back to this song! It’s from a drama soundtrack. I was super surprised the first time I listened to it because I thought it was going to be a typical ballad based on the first ~45 seconds or so—it wasn’t. There is also another version by 陈雪燃 (the king of cdrama OSTs). But I actually prefer the 曹杨 version.

《时光机》 by 吴克群 / Kenji Wu I was introduced to 吴克群 via 披荆斩棘2. He was instantly one of my favorite contestants after his team’s amazing 《新地球》 performance (check it out). This song is bouncy and a little dreamy. I kinda want to hear a remix with Harry Styles’ As It Was. I just wish it were longer than 3 minutes!

My Spotify Wrapped

I have a tradition of sharing my Spotify Wrapped, and I wanted to continue the streak in some form. So here's a quick rundown.

Top genre: 华语流行音乐 Representative city: Taipei Minutes: 21,750

Top artists

薛之谦 / Xue Zhiqian

林宥嘉 / Yoga Lin

五月天 / Mayday

李荣浩 / Li Ronghao

陈奕迅 / Eason Chan 

Top songs

《木偶人》 - 薛之谦

《狐狸》 - 薛之谦

《骆驼》 - 薛之谦

《转眼》 - 五月天

《后来的我们》 - 五月天

Also, fellow Mandopop fans should check out the Mando Gap newsletter. I stumbled upon it this year, and I know it’s going to be a great resource for discovering new artists in 2024!

[veryblushyswitch]

Tinytello gets Tinytickles

Summary: Leo finds out that Donnie has experimented on himself again and turned himself into “Tinytello.” With the help of his brothers, he convinces Donnie to promise to never experiment on himself again.

Lee: Little Donnie (Tinytello)

Lers: Leo, Raph & Mikey

Authors Note: Based off of this adorable art! 💖 https://www.tumblr.com/snailsnaps/701662135198023680/i-couldnt-stop-thinking-about-this-prompt-from

“No! No! No! No!” The little version of Donnie yelled as his younger twin carried him under his arm. Well, I guess he was the younger one now. Physically that is. An experiment gone wrong had changed Donnie back into a small kid. He was still teenage Donnie, but his form was that of when he was around six years old. And now he was forced to go towards Raph’s room as Leo held onto his squirming figure.

“Oho no, Donton. I know for a fact Raph would love to see this.” Leo chuckled in a playful tone. Donnie continued to kick his little legs and try to escape. The sleeves of his hoodie, slightly longer than his arms, flapped along with his hands with each desperate attempt of freedom.

Leo shushed Donnie then knocked on Raph’s door, hiding Donnie behind his back. He walked in after hearing a “come on in.”

“You’ll never guess what I found dear hermano.” Leo smirked, making sure to keep a good grip on the still squirming Donnie against the back of his shell. Before Raph could guess, he heard a small grunt from behind Leo. “Uhh, Leo…” Raph stood up from his bed. “Please don’t tell me you stole a kid-“

“Why would I- Never mind. Look!” He exclaimed bringing Donnie out from behind his shell and holding him up for Raph to see. Raph gasped, only to then aww at his adorable little brother.

“Daww!! Look at little Donnie!” Raph gave Donnie a pat to the head. Donnie swatted at his hand before giving up and accepting the affection. “But wait, how did this happen? Leo, you didn’t do this to him did you?!” Raph pointed a stern finger at him.

“It wasn’t me! Little Donnie here was experimenting on himself again.” Donnie tried to protest, but Raph was way ahead of him. “You what?! Donnie, I thought we talked about this. This is extremely dangerous. You’re lucky you didn’t turn yourself into some other mutant thing. We don’t need to be more mutated than we already are.” Donnie huffed and crossed his arms.

“Oh relax! I didn’t die or anything. Now if you let me go, I can go reverse this and we can pretend this never happened.” Donnie tried to sound serious with his kid voice. It didn’t work. If anything, it made his brothers smile even more.

“Not gonna happen.” Raph started. “You need to learn to be more careful. Even though this experiment seems to be the most adorable mistake you’ve ever made.” Raph’s baby voice came out in the last sentence as his pupils grew three times in size. Leo nodded his head at Raph’s comment.

“I know right!! He’s just a little guy!” Leo nuzzled his cheek against Donnie’s. Donnie pushed at his brothers face, his legs trying as hard as they could to kick at Leo’s arms. “I am not adorable now put me down!!” Donnie yelled. He yelped when Raph took him from Leo. Leo pouted, but remained where he was, letting Raph have some time to reminisce about when they were little. Raph held Donnie in one arm, the other flapping in happiness.

“I REMEMBER WHEN YOU GUYS WERE THIS SMALL!! I wish you guys could’ve stayed like this forever!” Raph couldn’t help the tiny jumps on his heals. He was having cuteness overload and Donnie would be lying if he said he didn’t find Raph’s reaction to him a little adorable. It was still embarrassing nonetheless, but seeing his brother so happy over his mistake was better than anger. A smile crept its way onto his face when Raph lifted him up and spun around a little. Leo wished he could take pictures with his mind, he had unfortunately left his phone in his room.

“Hey, I heard Raph’s cuteness overload voice what am I missing?” Mikey said as he suddenly entered Raph’s room. He immediately eyed the tiny version of their brother in Raph’s arms.

“OH MI GOSH!!!!” Mikey exclaimed, quickly snatching little Donnie from Raph. “Aren’t you just the cutest little thing!” Mikey cooed as he hugged him close. His brother was just too cute! And the oversized hoodie and glasses weren’t helping Donnie’s case.

“I am not cute!! Now put me dohohown! Hehehehe! Mihihikey!” Donnie burst into squeaky giggles when Mikey started to prod at his neck. His shoulders scrunched up with each feather light poke.

“Oh my gosh- I think my heart is going to explode-“ Leo held a hand against his heart as he stared at the adorable sight. At the same time, Raph brought out his phone to take a video. Mikey moved from one side of Donnie’s neck to the other, Donnie’s small fingers only managing to lightly push at Mikey’s hand.

“Nohohoho! Stahahahahap! Hehehahaha!” Donnie squealed when the back of his neck was targeted. Mikey felt his heart absolutely melt. And that’s when Leo thought of a plan. A plan to make sure Donnie wouldn’t make this mistake again.

“Ohokay. Mikey will let you go…” Leo paused for dramatic effect while leaning down towards Donnie. “If you promise to never experiment on yourself again.” Donnie gasped through a giggle.

“Nehever! I aham a mahahan of sciehehehence!” Donnie managed to say as Mikey continued his light flutters to the back of Donnie’s neck. Leo smirked, knowing that was exactly the answer he was going to get.

“Well right now you’re a man, or boy I should say, who’s gonna get tickled until he agrees with us.” Donnie’s eyes widened. They wouldn’t- not while he’s like this- Oh who was he kidding. Of course they would!

“Noho wahahahay!” Donnie could never ignore the sweet call of the mistress that is science. Even if it did mean getting tickled to death while being in this form.

“I was hoping you’d say that hermanito.” Cue Leo’s classic smirk before he joined Mikey in tickling Donnie. Raph stood to the side, recording video after video and trying to keep his cooing quiet. Donnie’s laughter was proving to be loud enough to cover any comments he made anyway.

“Aww~ Does that tickle, Tinytello~” Leo teased, scribbling his fingers around and around Donnie’s little plastron. He made sure to give pokes to his sides every now and then to hear little Donnie’s voice crack with each squeal.

“Nahahahahahaha! *squeal* Stahahahahahap!” Donnie kicked his legs and switched between trying to grab at Mikey’s fingers and pushing at Leo’s hands. Neither was doing much for his benefit. His glasses were a bit askew on his face and the hoodie was doing little to nothing to protecting his sensitive shell.

“Rahahahahaph! Hehehelp mehehe!” Donnie tried reaching out towards his older brother, only for a sneaky finger to wiggle under his arm causing him to shriek and pull back.

Leheohoho! Knohohohck ihit ohohoff!” Donnie yelped as Leo’s finger remained “trapped” under the little turtle’s arm. Raph giggled before deciding it was time to join in on the fun. He set up his phone against some clutter on his shelf, making sure he was able to get everyone in the shot. He walked over to stand beside Mikey and grabbed onto the tops of little Donnie’s knees.

“NOHO! Rahahaph dohohohon’t!” Donnie was still trying to keep his other two brothers at bay. He knew he would give in eventually if Raph contributed to the antics. Mikey and Donnie paused their assault, giving him time to take a break.

“So Tinytello~” Leo bent down to gently talk into Donnie’s ear, knowing it was a sensitive place for Donnie. “Are you gonna stop being a menace to yourself? Or are you gonna die of adorable squeaky giggles. Your choice.” Leo chuckled at the way Donnie shook his head but couldn’t help but giggle at the whispers.

“Leo’s right, Donnie. If you don’t agree, we’ll just have to keep you like this forever and ever. Tickling you aaaallll night long.” Mikey punctuated his sentence with some squeezes to the back of Donnie’s neck. Donnie snorted and curled up best he could, unable to make any sort of comeback.

“And then we’ll have to tell April. And I’m sure she’d loooove to tickle little Donnie until she feels satisfied.” Raph started squeezing Donnie’s knees. A high pitched squeal followed by louder giggles filled the room. Leo lifted Donnie’s arm that was closest to him and slowly wiggled his finger towards the outstretched underarm. He snickered at how Donnie barely even tried to pull at his arm, accepting his fate and giggling his little heart out.

“All together hermanos!” Leo declared, his finger finally touching its target and wiggling away under Donnie’s arm. Donnie kicked and squealed and snorted and swore. His other arm flapping due to happy stimming and not really knowing what else to do. Mikey gave Donnie a big raspberry to the side of his neck and that’s when he finally brought out the white flag to wave in surrender.

“OKAY! OKAHAHAHAY! I GIHIHIHIVE! I WOHON’T- GAHAHAHAHAHA STAHAHAHAP!” Donnie lost himself in laughter when Raph interrupted him by quickly lifting up his hoodie and blowing a raspberry on his plastron.

“Sorry what was that? Didn’t quite hear ya.” Raph teased, blowing another small raspberry on his side. Leo continued to hold onto Donnie’s arm, the other lightly smacking at Raph’s head with the hoodie sleeve.

“I WOHOHON’T EHEXPERIMENT OHON MYSEHEHELF! NOHOHOW STAHAHAHAHAP! PLEHEHEHEASE!” Raph and Leo finally backed away. Mikey letting Donnie go limp in his arms, cradling his little big brother. Raph went over and grabbed his phone, ending the video and saving it to watch later. He turned back and saw Leo covering his mouth. Looking closer, he saw that Donnie had fallen asleep in Mikey’s arms. I guess staying up for hours experimenting then being tickled by your three brothers really takes it out of you.

“Aww, he’s so peaceful!!” Mikey whisper screamed. He lent down and gave Donnie a kiss to the forehead, tearing up when he saw the smile widen on Donnie’s sleeping face. Leo carefully took off Donnie’s glasses, walking alongside Mikey and Raph as all three of them took him to his room.

“Should we tell dad?” Mikey asked as he gently laid Donnie down in his bed. He grabbed the blanket and carefully draped it across Donnie. Raph shook his head.

“Let’s wait till the morning. Let the little guy sleep for now. Seems like he needs it.” Raph put a stuffed animal next to Donnie’s hands, watching as Donnie unconsciously grabbed it held it close. Leo put his glasses on the nightstand, being sure to check that Donnie was all tucked in all warm and cozy.

“Goodnight, Tinyello.” Leo gently whispered, giving Donnie a small rub to his back. Raph quietly snapped a few more pictures before having to be dragged out of the room by Mikey and Leo. The affects would wear off eventually. But until then, Donnie slept more than he had in a really long while.

[dyadicjustice]

can u do like a hazelxreader best friends to lovers

like they’ve both been secretly in love with each other and pining for years but were too scared to say anything (and maybe smut if u write that but if not that’s totally good)

ooooh let me see what magic i can work, bestie. aged up the characters to be in college, so rockbridge falls high is now rockbridge university. unfortunately no smut this time because i am awful at it 😅 but i hope you enjoy this little blurb instead

ao3 link for if u prefer to read there :)

At 11:30, Professor G's class let out without anyone having learned anything actually in the syllabus. But for you, there wasn’t much room in your mind for history lessons anyway. You were too distracted by Hazel sitting next to you, scrolling on Twitter and excitedly showing you every adorable cat meme she came across. 

You’d known each other since the 3rd grade, and it was safe to say that some things never change— especially not your love for one another as best friends. At least until the end of Senior Year, when you’d started to realize that change was inevitable, and you’d fallen hard for her.

You’d been overcompensating these past couple months. You’d purposely try to fly under the radar, so she wouldn’t notice you pining or the countless lingering looks and lip biting. Desperation was heavy in your bones, settled deep in your core. So when you finally return to your shared dorm, she asks, “Seriously y/n, it seems like you’re not even here most days. What’s going on?”  

You know you can’t lie to her. You can’t lie to those dazzling grey eyes, so warm and sweet and sincere. So you sigh and admit, “Are you ready to receive some potentially devastating information that could change the state of our friendship forever?”

She blinks and lets out a quiet chuckle, “Uh, no promises, weirdo. What’s up?” 

“Hazel, I’m being serious. It’s like... important,” you whine.

She hikes an eyebrow at your nervous demeanor, taking a beat to take in your features. She’s suddenly fully aware you’re uncomfortable when you start to wring your hands a bit. To calm your fidgeting, she slips her hands in between them and intertwines your fingers. You feel her sweet gesture start to soothe you, like when puppies snuggle up to you to help you stop crying.

She whispers, “What’s wrong, bean?”

Your eyes start to water at the nickname. “You have to promise you won’t get upset”, you choke out.

She wraps her arms around your neck in a comforting embrace, and whispers in your ear, “I promise. You can tell me, only if you’re comfortable and ready.” And her considerate nature makes you want to cave and sob right then and there.

“I love you, Hazel. But, I also… I just… I’m in love with you.” You can’t even meet her eyes out of pure embarrassment. You feel her fingers snake beneath your chin, and she gently tugs until you’re looking into her eyes. She stares into yours, into your soul, really. She whispers, “y/f/n, I’ve been dreaming of hearing you say that for years.” You both giggle. You joke, “That’s such a fucking relief because I would’ve shat myself if you rejected me.” 

“I could never reject you, bean! Thank you for being brave enough to tell me.” You can hear the smile in her voice. “But I am curious, when did you realize you felt that way?”

You sigh, “Honestly? I knew I was sure when we went to Senior Prom together, so 6 months maybe? But I also would say, I’d felt something since we were like 10. I just hadn’t realized how deep my love was back then.”

Hazel murmurs, “You made Prom Night so magical. You looked lovely. Not to mention, you just had this magnetism to you that had everybody staring. I was fighting the urge to kiss you the entire evening. It was hardest during the slow dance.”

You admit that you had felt similarly, explaining, “It was hardest for me to resist when you had that little bit of whipped cream stuck on your lip when we went to Denny’s after. I wiped it away with a napkin, but I wish I’d just gone for it.” 

You stare up at her lovingly as a subtle silence emerges between you, your eyes scanning her features before dropping to her lips. Without saying a word, you crash your lips together. Hers taste like… well, like nothing and like everything at the same time. Just chapstick and love. 

And it’s not your first time kissing a girl by any means, But you can already tell it’s your favorite after only ten seconds. 

Hazel pulls away, breathless, “So just to be clear, what does this make you and me?” She smirks.

You hold her cheek with one hand and hook the other around the back of her neck, scratching the back of her head. Her jaw goes slack and her eyes flutter. You reply, “Horny, Hazel. It makes us really fucking horny.”

She smirks, “Maybe we should… do something about that. Your place or mine?” She dopily wiggles her eyebrows. It’s made even more ridiculous by the fact that your beds are just feet away from each other.

You shoot back, giggling, “Yours. I don’t wanna fuck up my sheets right now.”

She scoops you up bridal style and sets you down on her bed. Those months of pre-season training for rugby had made her insanely strong despite her short and lean figure.

She kisses your forehead and replies, “Whatever you wish, Your Majesty.”

[batwritings]

Hi Bat! Merry Christmas, if you celebrate! I feel like it’s been a while since I’ve seen you do group headcanons; can I get Keegan, Ghost, Gaz, Konig, Horangi, and Soap (if that’s too many, I completely understand! you can just pick a few.) on a mission alone with their lover, maybe infiltrating a facility of some sort, when their darling simply just pulls them aside declares they want to give them a quick handjob/blowjob, out of neediness. Maybe the reader’s just a little too into the thrill of them possibly getting caught, or maybe they just can’t wait until they get back. Thanks!!

-Hybrid

Okay but like...I'm fairly certain I would be said reader. >.> Not that I like thrills, I just have ZERO shame. /hj Also, Merry Christmas for those who celebrate, as well as a blessed Yule and a Happy Hanukkah and holidays! Enjoy!~

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Keegan P. Russ Keegan normally took missions as a ghost VERY seriously. He knew communication was essential during these missions, especially when dealing with Rorke back on the loose. So when you pulled him into a nearby closet for a quick little thrill, he was quick to ask what the actual fuck you were doing. Unfortunately, Keegan is weak as hell for you, so the moment you get your hands on his member, his eyes roll back a bit. "Make it quick kid," he growls, switching the channel on his comms so the both of you aren't heard, even on accident. You're true to your word, making sure there's no evidence of your little stint. "Pull something like that again, and you'll regret it once we're home."

Simon "Ghost" Riley Simon Riley is a no nonsense man, even more so on missions. But even you could see how his anger was affecting him and the decisions he was making. As an intervention, you pulled him aside while the team was switching positions. "You need a quick destress," you tell him, getting on your knees and pulling his member out before he can protest. Any argument Simon tries to make is muted the moment you get his cock in your mouth. He's finished as quick as it started as you help him straighten his appearance. "Not a word of this later." He threatens, despite his soft brown eyes telling you that he was thankful.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick Gaz, albeit serious about his work, is much more impulsive than the rest of the task force. Which means he's a bit more amenable to following you when you pull him aside for a moment. He's genuinely confused until you get on your knees, which he gives you a smirk in response to. "Cheeky thing aren't you?" He groans when you get your hands and mouth on his cock. He's so tempted to ask you to leave the cum splattered on your lips and cheek but Gaz knows better. "Next time we should take care of that before we go yeah?"

Kim "Horangi" Hong-jin Horangi has become a lot more at ease with himself over the years, and in that knowledge comes learning when to give into urges. He's never been one to let his relations with you interfere with missions for KorTac, but even a man as strong as him had a weak spot. He'll contemplate if the quickie is worth it before inevitably following you off. "씨발," Horangi would curse, trying his best to cover his noises. He felt lowkey bad for slightly abandoning the mission in exchange for pleasure, but the smile on your face made it worth it. "There'll be more where that came from if you can be good and patient."

König The normally reserved König you knew in closed quarters was gone on missions. As a colonel, he had a bit of a reputation to uphold. And yet...here he was, getting pulled to the side by you for a quick blowjob. "Scheiße, quickly now schatz," he'd groan, head knocking against the metal wall behind him. You hit all the right spots, all the points that normally made him sob in pleasure, whining quietly as he comes across your face. "Good pet...now, let's rejoin the others. We'll talk about this later in my quarters."

Johnny "Soap" MacTavish Probably the riskieset of this group of people. Soap is the type of person who would do it while doing recon and still respond to comms calls. He wants to see how far the two of you could go without getting caught. "He's moving LT," The Scotsman would report to Ghost, immediately groaning when you lick over the head of his cock. Moments after he comes, he'd be on the move, helping you up as he messily puts himself away. "More later yeah?"