#digital single: love all star

[ozataku]

[Youtube] 240116 'LOVE ALL STAR' (Theme of "LAPOSTA")- RECORDING FILM

[cockaiine]

when satoru is on a no-contact mission, his #1 goal is to get everything done as soon as possible to return to you.

but he doesn’t expect the mission to take so fucking long. He’s not used to going for a couple of days without you, let alone a whole month. satoru’s patience grows thin day by day, pent-up tension becoming unbearable.

before he left, he swore not to touch himself and just wait until he came back because your pussy was just ‘that godly’, according to him.

but only 5 weeks in, he caves; picking up his phone and opening a hidden folder full of… intimate pictures of you. he just can’t help it, he misses you so much. he misses your face, your jokes, your hair, your mouth, your moans, your ass… the list goes on. he should’ve passed on this mission.

when he’s back in your arms, though, he makes sure to make up for all the time he ‘deprived you of his love’—not admitting he’s the one who was deprived of your presence.

“fuck– satoru—” your breath comes in short huffs, head pushed into the pillows of your shared bed. He's only been in japan for less than two hours, yet his head is already pressed between your legs as his tongue leapt at your clit, two long digits penetrating your poor hole. 

“s’fuckin’ sweet,” he breathes before going for the sensitive bundle of nerves again. you swear you see stars as tears begin to form in your eyes. so long without a single orgasm made the coil in your stomach form a lot sooner than it did before he left. he feels your walls tightening around his fingers. “gonna cum on my face, pretty? can ya’ do that f’me?”

gasping for air, your fingers pull at his white strands. the forceful sensation causes a grunt to escape him and vibrate through you, making you shiver. his fingers hit deep and fast, finding the spot that sends shocks of pleasure through all of you.

“satoru-! ah- fuck– satoru—,” your moans come shorter, louder, indicating the orgasm you’re about to release. “i’m close– satoru– fuck– don’t stop, please, toru’—”

your orgasm rushes, warm and fast, your body shudders with the pleasure coursing through you. he doesn’t stop, tongue colliding with your cunt as he makes sure to drink all of your essence. your grip on his hair loosens as you come down from your high, legs twitching every time his tongue flicks at your pussy again. “mm… taste so sweet,” he looks up at you, nose and lips glistening with the remnants of your release. he looks into your eyes, shameless cerulean orbs dazed, making you nearly shy away. something about his gaze makes you feel uneasy and aroused at the same time. “one more time for me, princess? missed this pussy.”

[hoshigray]

𝐓𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐭 | fushiguro tōji

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: Toji being a pxssy-eating menace man idk, we all watched the same episode, ykw scene I'm talking about!! like sir put that tongue away before i suck on it :/ @ramonathinks ahemmm, I did it (,,>﹏<,,)

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Toji x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - oral (f! receiving) - biting/nibbling (ankle, inner thigh) - fingering (f! receiving) - clitoral play (swiping and pinching) - overstimulation - impact play (pussy slaps) - pet names (baby, mama, princess) - heavy depiction of receiving oral.

“—Hahhhn! Uhhhn!! T–Toji, stop—Ehhkk!!”

It all happened in a flash, way too fast for you to comprehend. The man hadn’t said a single word to you when he came home; you greeted him sweetly when you saw him from the other side of the kitchen island. You were just about to get ready to cook dinner for the night. Next thing you know, the man brings his lips to yours, surprising you with a squeak when he sweeps you off the floor. 

He brings you to the dinner table, immediately having you lie on your back. His kiss continues to become more passionate, drowning your moans with the thrust of his tongue in your mouth, and his hands prop your legs apart after pulling your bottoms off of your legs. Exposing your panties, you break the kiss with a bashful tone. “Toji, wait! Don’t look at—Nnnmph!”

“Heh, well, look at this,” the older man whistles, noticing the lacy designs of your undergarment. “What’s the occasion, lookin’ all sexy fr’ me, mama?” He doesn’t even give you time to respond to his rhetoric. Toji’s fingers press into the crotch panel of your underwear, teasing and sinking between your folds. To and fro motions of his digits evoke whimpers past your control, and it only takes seconds for a wet spot to come to fruition on the material.

He slips one finger inside your leaky entrance, and a sharp gasp is released from your pretty lips. Toji notices your legs quiver and his touch, bringing one to rest on your shoulder. The space between you two is soon filled with erotic noises coming from your lower region, coating his digit with your wetness as it brushes the gummy walls of your chasm. 

“Ohhhh, ohoooo, Tojiiiii, yourrr fingersss,” You try to say something to him, but it’s to no avail as he slips in his middle finger. The addition of another thick digit has your body jolt upward. He snickers, kissing and licking your ankle as his emerald eyes scan your reaction. 

“Hmm? What about my fingers, baby?” Oh, he knows; he just loves to tease. His hand pulls your lace material off and has it meet the wooden floor, your bare cunt finally freed and wet for him. His fingers slide back easily, his fingertips scraping your velvety texture with precision. The heat on your face makes your ears ring, along with the noises from Toji playing with your pussy. 

Then suddenly, you choke on your spit when you feel his thumb on your clitoris. Oh, it has you seeing stars as he presses the delicate bud down. “Ahhhck!! Ahhaann!! T–Toji, nooo!! I’ll cum, I’ll—OhJesussss…” 

His thumb then swipes your clit, and it has your back curving up to him. “What’s that, princess? Wanna cum for Daddy, huh?” He bends down to observe your blissful expressions fully, massaging your thigh with his free hand.

“—Yessss, please, lemme cummm..” You sound real pathetic with your words slurring out like that, but your brain is gradually evolving to mush. It’s embarrassing, yet worrying about your responses is the last thing on your mind now.

However, he doesn’t use his fingers. No, no. He withdraws them from your slit, and the whine you let out only feeds his ego. Instead, he kisses from your ankle to your inner thigh, nipping and nibbling your skin as he ventures down. And when he approaches your bare cunt, he tantalizing licks your folds and clit, his hands keeping your hips in his stronghold to prevent you from removing yourself.

You can squirm all you want, but it won’t stop him from having his lips stuffed into your swollen lips. His tongue circled and lapped around your folds and clitoris with a vigor that could shut you down. And if you keep trying to escape his feasting, Toji won’t hesitate to correct you with a slap to your cunt, a sharp and choked sob comes along with the quick pain before he returns to lapping your essence. Your climax climbs up tenfold – it hits you before you can even prepare yourself. 

With shaky legs and an elated wail, you come into this man’s mouth. Your eyes begin to water as your body experiences the electrifying shocks crawling up your spine, your chasm contracting through the high. And Toji happily takes it all in, his nose buried close to your clit while drinking your release. It’s all too much to bear, your mind stuck in a haze, staring aimlessly at the dining room ceiling. 

Finally, when your body stops shivering, Toji removes his lips and fingers from you, licking access from his scarred lips and digits. Here, you can finally get some grounding, your breathing falling into a fixed tempo and the fog that clouds your brain up— “Eyaahhhh!!”

Or so you thought. Because Toji then gives your sensitive folds another smack, your cries dialing to screams when his thumb and forefinger return to pinch your clitoris. Tears form and threaten to fall as the man grins hard.

“C’mon, mama. I know ya can cum fr’ me more than that. Be a good girl and keep sittin’ there lookin’ pretty, ‘kay? 

Oh, poor you. It’s a good thing you didn’t leave anything cooking yet.

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2023 – dividers from @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more

[flowersforbucky]

cesium

bucky barnes x reader

just a nasty little blurb!! this is pure SMUT, porn with very little plot, metal arm hyperfixation, minors do not interact, 18+ only, reader is afab, no use of y/n

word count: 700 ish

cesium: the softest metal

“You can touch me,” you whisper against his mouth. “I want you to touch me. You won't hurt me.”

Your lips ghost over his, one hand cradling his jawline in your palm and the other pulling his metal hand to your hip.

“This doesn’t have to be a weapon. This can be used for good," your lips trail against the stubble on his chin. "For pleasure."

Finger by finger, he adds the slightest bit of pressure to the soft skin of your waist.

Testing the waters. Trying to convince himself that your words really could be true - that his touch could bring pleasure and not pain.

That he could possibly be anything softer than what they made him.

He waits for the moment that you would flinch away, realization dawning on you that the hand touching you is the same hand that dozens of people had lost their lives by. Realization that it was the same hand that had strangled the life out of Tony Stark’s parents and pulled the trigger on Nick Fury. Realization that it had destroyed lives - lives of people that you love.

But that moment doesn't come. Every one of your actions is reassurance that you want him, from the way that you pepper kisses down his neck and across his collarbones, to the way that you take his metal hand and place it on your lace covered breast.

Your tongue sweeping along his bottom lip is his undoing. One second he's all restraint and hesitation, the next he's using his flesh hand to tip your head back, giving him the perfect angle to latch his mouth onto yours.

He starts softly, kneading you through your bra as you release a sweet moan into his mouth. Your sounds encourage him, giving him enough courage to pull the restrictive fabric of your bra down so that he can take your nipple between two of the cold metal digits.

You break the kiss - already lightheaded due to a combination of the balmy air of the ramshackle Motel 6 room and the euphoric smell of vetiver and sandalwood on his skin - giving him the opportunity to latch his velvet soft lips to the pulse point on your throat.

His hands trail downwards, one hand cupping your sex and one popping the button to your jeans as you pull the two of you to the creaky motel mattress.

"Lay on your back."

There's a newfound confidence in his instruction that sends a rush to your core as you do as you're told.

He hovers over you, icy hand dipping into your panties where his fingers stroke your soaked cunt. He slips a single finger into you with ease - you grind against his hand and he knows you want more.

You help him shimmy you out of your pants, his lips immediately trailing open mouth, sloppy kisses across your thighs before finding his way to your center.

He adds a second finger, stretching you open with a scissoring motion. His flesh hand comes up to cup your breast that is still spilling out of your bra and you grind yourself against his mouth and fingers, chasing your release.

“Come on my fingers,” he commands lowly, the vibration of his voice against your sensitive flesh sending you over the edge.

A tight warmth coils inside you, starting in your belly and spreading throughout your whole being. You clench around him, coming undone. He fucks you through your orgasm, his tongue and fingers continuing to perform sinful ministrations until you're limp beneath him.

Still seeing stars, you pull his metal hand to your mouth, wrapping your lips around his fingers and sucking your juices clean off.

“See," you pant. He's staring down at you, pupils lust blown. There's a hint of something in his expression that you can't quite decipher in your post orgasm haze, but you think it might be pride. "Told you so," you pull him down to you, his face an inch away from yours. "Are you gonna let me make you feel as good as you made me feel?"

He lets out a low chuckle, brushing a stray hair from your sweat-slicked forehead.

"Sweetheart, trust me, that was as good for me as it was for you."

disclaimer: i wrote and posted this foreverrr ago, deleted it sometime later because i ended up hating it, recently stumbled across it on my a03 account and decided to rewrite it so that i like it again! soooo here ya go 🤭

likes/reblogs/comments are always appreciated, it's been a long time since i've posted any writing on here! 🖤

my masterlist

[vanteguccir]

maybe a chris blurb with reader being really physically affectionate and constantly cuddling each other? I love all your work btw! 🥰💖

hi pretty darling! thank you so much 🥺 here's your blurb!

Clingy | Chris Sturniolo

a quick, small and fluffy blurb

Chris was undeniably clingy, and it was no secret. He needed to be close to Y/N, always. If he wasn't, it felt like something vital was missing. His touch was a constant presence, whether it was holding her hand, wrapping an arm around her shoulder or waist, or sitting so close that the two practically merged into one.

And Y/N adored it.

It was a crisp winter night in Los Angeles, and Y/N was cozily curled up in the living room of her shared home with the triplets, enveloped by the warm glow of the digital fireplace that Nick had installed beneath the television weeks before.

Chris had somehow convinced her to share a single armchair with him, even though it was clearly designed for only one person. Y/N was perched on his lap, his strong arms wrapped tightly around her waist, constantly pulling her closer to his chest, even though there wasn't even an inch between her back and his chest.

The smell of hot chocolate filled the air, mingling with the faint scent of Chris's Dior perfume.

"Y/N, can you help me with this math?" Nathan - who decided to spend some days with them while off classes - called from the floor, where he was sitting with a stack of books, immersed in his studies for the upcoming exams.

"Sure, Nate." Y/N responded with a soft smile, leaning forward to get off Chris' lap.

"No." Chris complained softly, dragging out the letter "O," tightening his arms around Y/N and giving her a pleading look.

"Sweetheart, come on." Y/N scolded gently, turning to face him, resting her hands on his arms covered by the baby blue hoodie that was too big for him.

His blue eyes softened as his lips formed a pout, his bottom lip jutting out in a way that made Y/N laugh.

"Please, don't go?" Chris's tone sounded like a pitiful whine, and Y/N was sure she could see small droplets of tears forming in the corners of his eyes.

"I'm just moving a few feet away. I'll be back in no time, baby." Y/N reassured him, her fingers slipping into the sleeves of his hoodie, her nails gently caressing his warm skin in hopes of relaxing him. But his grip didn't loosen. "You're incorrigible, you know that?" Y/N said exasperatedly, laughing at his stubbornness.

"Chris, let her go. Now." Nick muttered from the big, gray couch, not looking up from his phone screen, where random lights reflected from the videos he watched on TikTok.

Chris sighed dramatically, a loud sound of complaint escaping his throat before he finally let go, crossing his arms stubbornly.

Y/N laughed softly, standing up and feeling a slight chill run through her body momentarily from the lack of his warmth against hers.

"He's completely obsessed, isn't he?" As she moved to sit next to Nathan, she heard Matt murmuring quietly to the oldest triplet.

"Unfortunately." Nick agreed, rolling his eyes and locking his phone screen, resting the device on his lap.

"Chris should give her a break." Nate joined in, his tone sounding serious even though his eyes sparkled with amusement.

"She is mine." Chris responded indignantly, his voice firm and his eyes widening comically as his arms crossed tighter.

"So possessive." Y/N muttered, shaking her head as Nate laughed nasally.

"I'm not! I'm careful. What is this, a plot against me?" Chris protested, opening his arms in exasperation.

"Yes, you are. A possessive and obsessed idiot." Matt confronted, rolling his eyes and adjusting his slouched position on the couch, retrieving his phone from the pocket of his gray sweatpants.

Chris just shrugged, giving in, a satisfied smile resting on his face as he watched his girl from across the room, his blue eyes shining like stars around his dilated pupils.

Y/N couldn't help but smile back as soon as she noticed it, feeling warm inside thinking about how much he loved her to the point where he couldn't stay away.

As she settled down on the cold floor to help Nathan with his studies, she mentally prayed that he wouldn't take too long to understand that equation, and that soon she could be back in Chris's arms, right where she belonged.

~ taglist:

@lustfulslxt @ladybunny44 @worldlxvlys @earth2starkey @remussbitch @freshloveforthefit @sturniolowhore @luvr4miya @alorsxsturn @urfavgirllyyyyy @hearts4chriss @cupidzsq @dracoflaco @junnniiieee07 @lightsgore @gidgett11037 @ksskianshd @soimightlikeoldmen69 @ldr-sl0t @its-jennarose @sainzzsturns @ecliphttlunar @soso-scarlettolivia @bitchydragonparadise @freshsturns @h3arts4harry @patscorner @strnilolo @bernardsbendystraws @mattsneezing @poetatorturadaa @meg-sturniolo @orangeypepsi @jnkvivi @chrisactualwife @fratbrochrisgf @elordilover @somegirlfromasgard @hpyjw @annamcdonalds67 @colorthecosmos444 @dej4vhs

[dollcherray]

✮⋆˙ DIGITAL SILENCE ୨୧

YANDERE MR.PUZZLES X READER WHOS IN SMG4'S CREW.

A/N:Yahoo! im back babeyyy,way better now and, btw ik smg4's fandom isnt that famous and this will probably only get 2/3 views, but im doing this anyways, this is NOT PROOFREAD edit: this aged like milk

Type: Headcanons, romantic, fluff/light angst.

Tw/Cw: Yandere topics, he hypnotizes you, obsessive behavior, paranoia, delusion, possessiveness, overprotection, suggestive(?), he literally worships you so much, emotional dependence .

Song recommendation: Creative control - Mr puzzles

୨୧ He got so hooked up on you, and he doesnt know how or why, but he just knew he needed you when he first landed his cameras on you, you were so captivating, he had to understand why.

୨୧ Before he hypnotized everyone, he kept a big eye on you, that were blissfully unaware of his obsession or existence, sometimes he got so excited of looking at you that he almost got to capture you to himself, but he had to control himself, he could do that later.

୨୧ When puzzles finally hypnotized everyone, he needed to see you first than EVERYBODY else and my god, you were so precious and beautiful in person, he couldnt get enough from looking at you, he was so glad he finally got to see your pretty face in person.

୨୧ During the shows, whenever you were on screen, he would display you always as the most perfect character in the story and sometimes he would even insert himself in them just to be more close to you or to be your love interest.

୨୧ He enjoys watching your performances so much, you were just made for the screens! you easily highlighted yourself in every show, even if you were just standing, or staying in the background, he would pay attention to you everytime, every single move you do or word you say, he is paying full attention.

୨୧ He would be extra touchy with you, since he was very lonely when a child, he would take all the years of him wishing there was someone to hug him and etc. On you, he would be soo touch starved.

୨୧ Puzzles would get a bit paranoid and feared when you get your conscience back, he tried to comfort himself with the "they'll never know" mindset, protected by the delusion that he did the right thing of hypnotizing you.

୨୧ Puzzles would panic when you got your conscience and memories back, but relieved that you wouldnt remember the stories where he inserted himself in so he could be creepily more close to you.

୨୧ But when he heard you also wanted to leave, he was furious, how could his own darling try and leave him?! hes the one who can make u a real star, the real deal, and the others are just... second characters, how can you want to stay with such pesky brats?! they were nothing compared to you!

୨୧ But he didnt blame you, you were with those weirdos since the beginning consequently making you not even know half of your potential since you were brainwashed by that pesky crew, so, he had to show you that your place was with him, on the big screens with only him, nobody else.

୨୧ If you wanted to stay with him or not didnt really matter, you were in his reality, he could make you his whenever, he just felt like giving you the illusion of a choice in hopes you would "choose" the right decision. (hes not insane at all! hes just silly!)

୨୧ You were his precious puppet, his puppet, his companion, he couldnt let you leave, no, he couldnt, he needs you and you will need him, he would show you your place, he eventually would.

୨୧ "When i saw you, i instantly knew that you were a natural star, so be good and stay with me, okay?"

[anantaru]

loser bf kuni or rockstar bf kuni? 🎤

cw. he's a loser, but our loser </3 while rockstar scara? he's a vibe, fem! reader

loser! boyfriend kuni whose dick gets hard whenever he thinks about you, a single thought about being buried inside your warm cunt and he's throbbing, painfully so, his pants tight when he decides to pull them down at last, honestly fed up with all of this, leaving the roughened garment to lazily dangle around his knees, imagining your lingering tongue on his wet tip.

he starts slow now, easily wrapping his slender digits around his thudding shaft before draping his head forward a little, just a bit, so a globule of his spit can hit his achung tip as he hisses out at the contact of the slippery saliva, it's so painful to him, it almost makes him tear up from it— so, he rolls his hips, grinding deep into the little opening and sending a shiver through his flesh and blood in a hot sizzle of shockwaves.

and you? well, you've been fairly busy today, whilst barely able to see him at all and it‘s so frustrating, fuck, kuni cannot stop rolling his eyes in annoyance!

yet he permits himself a chuckle, thinking about what he‘ll do once you‘re finally back.

because in this moment in time, a sliding second gone by, there was nothing, and i mean nothing, he longed for more than having your pretty, wet lips sealed around his cock as he fucks your throat raw and greedy, your mouth in a slow, sucking kiss leaving him be.

his hand was now pushing up and down his dick, nothing more but a clear vision in his mind, the sinful fantasy being about you— your eyes doused and glowing, lashes wet with your mascara filthily smeared around your face, cheeks all cutely hollowed as you drink him up— everything.

ugh, he's such a loser, it's so embarrassing, but he's your loser, right? and that's all he needed to be.

rockstar! boyfriend kuni who gives you his all, his entire heart, to always make you feel the absolute best, treating you as the princess that you are.

whilst yes, there‘s a ton of quite taxing groupies that were only waiting for a single chance with the world star— but, quite frankly, he doesn‘t give a fuck, because in his enchanting eyes, there was only one individual that had captured his heart.

and he melts right into you, tongue twisting into your own as probes his cock to the rim, your pussy swallowing him so fucking wonderfully that it makes his cheeks all sweet and round, being sucked in by a warm, puffy cunt such as yours.

"there you go." he coos, placing a little kiss on the tip of your nose, "don‘t hold back for me, okay?"

and you instantly whine at the sugar coated tune, lifting your hips next only to have them forcibly pushed back by his bare hands, "i won’t! i‘m so close— so‘close."

kuni pushes in, slow and steady movements drilling past your wet folds, letting more of his weight rest against your body as he mouths a needy kiss against your throat— and the way you shifted under his touch was maddening to the rockstar, something that could not be compared to anything, not even a sold out concert and loud, worshipping fans would come close to this.

he loves you so much, and each thrust easily slides the length of his cock over your walls— tasty, perfect heat surrounding your sweaty bodies as you tense down your core at the raw pleasure, muscles clamping down when you at last, climax at his stuttering thrusts.

©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[hannyoontify]

little stars - kwon soonyoung

member | non-idol!hoshi x illustrator!reader

genre | fluff, newly est. relationship

word count | 2k with some change

synopsis | soonyoung sees you without makeup for the first time, and he notices something he’s never seen before

warnings | reader wears makeup, reader has freckles on their face, reader is implied to have insomnia but it’s not prevalent to the plot, reader is ticklish, soonyoung has an extensive vocabulary of terms of endearment that borderline make me wanna hurl if they were used unironically, soonyoung makes a shrek reference

notes | i have freckles on the back of my hands and have always been insecure of them but i remembered how my ex used to kiss them and say they were beautiful

Soonyoung’s not a criminal. He knows that. The last time he committed a serious crime was back when he was seven years old when he stole a new pack of crayons from his sister’s friends’ house after a play date.

(Two seconds after leaving said friend's house and he could no longer handle the overwhelming and crushing guilt and ended up running to his mom and crying, calling himself a “tiger thief.”)

So when Soonyoung urgently texts your best friend to ask for the password to your apartment, he can’t help but feel a dull pang of guilt in his chest as he inputs the numbers he sees into the digital keypad. His hands are shaking as the door unlocks and he fumbles through the doorway and upon your quiet and dark apartment.

It’s well past noon now and yet, there wasn’t a single hint of you in the living room and kitchen. The sink was still empty, the drying rack was full, the throw pillows on the couch looked too pristine, and the curtains were still closed. Fearing the worst, Soonyoung quietly made his way to your closed bedroom door, his sock-covered feet padding along the floor. 

He softly knocks once. Then twice. “[Name]?” No response. 

“[Name]? Baby? Are you awake?” When he doesn’t get a response, Soonyoung pushes the door slightly open. “I’m coming in…” 

In the dark room, all Soonyoung could perceive was a lump amidst the lush pile of stuffed animals and blankets, your sleeping form slowly rising and falling. “Baby…” He pushed the door wider, letting the minimal light from the living room stream past your doorway, shedding light into your dark room.

The lump under the big fluffy duvet stirred, squirming around as Soonyoung approached the side of your bed. He turned on the mushroom lamp you had on your bedside table and you let out a loud groan. 

While you stirred in your sheets, Soonyoung glanced around your room. He’d only been to your apartment a couple times in the past few months but he was already familiar to the layout of your bedroom. In the corner, next to the window was your desk with your extensive, impressive PC set-up. Sheets of half-drawn and unfinished pencil drawings were strewn across your drawing board and your desk was a flurry of paper, reference photos, and pencils.

Soonyoung felt a pang in his chest at the realization that you had probably stayed up until ungodly hours trying to finish your illustrations. You were an artiste and you had a bad habit of working until you practically dropped dead when you were struck by a lightning of inspiration.

“[Name], love, it’s time to wake up. It’s already past 3 in the afternoon. Sleeping is for the nighttime.” You poked your head out of the blanket, the edge of the fluffy duvet resting right below your eyes and covering the rest of your face. 

You stared at him blankly with bloodshot eyes and Soonyoung swore he saw—and heard—the gears turning in your head. It took you a couple seconds to recognize your boyfriend. “Soonie?” You croaked out, your voice still hoarse having woken up just seconds before.

Soonyoung smiled at the nickname and affectionately patted your head. “Time to wake up, sleepy head. Don’t wanna ruin your sleep schedule. Late night, huh?”

You nodded and rubbed an eye. “Deadline was…” You yawned. “Last night. Couldn’t sleep either.”

Soonyoung nodded sympathetically. 

“What- what time is it?” You blinked at him with the blanket still covering the rest of your face. Your hair was a tussled mess that was fanned out on the pillow behind you.

“3 pm, baby. C’mon. Let’s get you out of bed.” Soonyoung gently pulled the blanket away, revealing the rest of your face and your matching tiger pajamas. Your boyfriend stared at your clothes, an ambiguous look in his eyes that made you unsure of whether he found your pajamas adorable, or if he simply coveted your clothes and hence boosting you up to top 3 on his rob list, next to his model friend, Joshua and his tiger striped patterned button-up.

(That button-up wasn’t even his, it was something his stylist had just put on him for one of his magazine photo shoots.)

Meanwhile, reality had finally begun to settle in for you as you just realized that your new, hot boyfriend was standing in your bedroom, fluffy hair galore. He was standing over you with a twinkling look in his eyes, clad in a pair of black sweatpants and a white tank top, his muscles flexing and rolling as he tugged the blanket off of you.

You then suddenly became painfully aware of your appearance. You were in your embarrassing tiger character pajamas and your face was painstakingly bare. Your hands flew up to your hands and you flipped over, burying your face into your pillow with a loud groan. 

“Soonie, can you wait outside for me?” Your voice was muffled by the fabric of your pillow. 

Soonyoung reached out for your shoulder and his eyebrows scrunched up with worry. “Why? What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

With your hands still covering your face, you rolled back and peeked at your boyfriend through your fingers. “I’mmph mmm wmmph any mammphup.”

Soonyoung chuckled and gently grabbed your wrists. “Baby, I can’t understand what you’re saying.” 

“I’m not wearing any makeup,” you whined. “You’ve never seen me barefaced before, I’m embarrassed.”

“Nooooo, baby, lemme see your hot and sexy face,” When you wouldn’t budge, Soonyoung sighed in fake exasperation. “Then you leave me no choice.”

He crawled into the empty spot next to you in bed and wrapped his big arms around you, prying your hands away from your face. 

You giggled and wriggled away from Soonyoung, using everything within you to try and hide from your boyfriend who was now currently pinning you to the mattress jiu-jitsu style. You shrieked when Soonyoung’s cold fingers dug into your sides, causing you to writhe around under him, like a fish without water. You gasped for air as Soonyoung tickled you but your hands still firmly covered your face.

“Baby, babe, pookie bear, my sweet sugar plum, my snookum bear, honey bunch, sweet cheeks, pooh bear, pudding pie, my cutie patootie, snuggle bear,” Soonyoung gently grabbed your wrists again. “I don’t care if you’re the pretty princess version of Fiona or the ogre version. I’ll be the Shrek to whichever version you are, because,” Soonyoung placed a hand over his chest and spoke after a dramatic pause. “It’s the heart that truly matters.”

You snorted. 

“Are you laughing at me and my Shrek analogy? You know it took me a long time to think of that.” Soonyoung seemed to deflate and he pouted.

“Of course not baby. I think your Shrek analogy is genius,” You peeked through your fingers, just in time to see his chest swell again with pride–you had complimented his Shrek analogy! “But I’m still not showing you my face.”

“BABY NOOOOO,” Soonyoung dramatically threw himself against you, his fingers seeking refuge in your armpits this time, causing you to erupt into a fit of giggles. “LEMME SEE YO FACEEEEE.”

“Nooooo,” you whined. Despite your protests, you couldn’t help but giggle as Soonyoung tried different combinations of kissing and tickling to try and get you to open up.

Thanks to his stubbornness and his iron grip, he was finally able to pry your hands off your face and pinned them against the pillow next to you. In the midst of wrestling you, Soonyoung had ended up on top of you, his legs straddling your waist and he looked down at you with a triumphant grin. “Gotcha.”

His eyes were roaming around your face, evidently studying you as you tried to avoid eye contact. Your giggles slowly subsided, and you heard Soonyoung trying to catch his own breath. When he finally managed to lock his eyes with your own, there was a softness in his eyes in the way he looked at you that you had never seen before.

Breathless, Soonyoung spoke softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “You… have freckles…”

“H-huh?” You felt your cheeks burning as your boyfriend timidly brought a hand up to your face. His fingertips softly grazed your skin, his touch so light and gentle, you would’ve thought it was just a light gust of wind if you hadn’t been paying attention. Soonyoung’s eyes stayed trained on your cheeks, his eyes examining each and every individual freckle with a gentleness you had never seen from him before.

You’ve always been aware of the freckles on your face, but they’ve never received this much attention from someone before. It felt awkward, but it also felt… intimate. It felt nice for your beauty marks to be appreciated, and your heart swelled with affection at the sweet gesture from your boyfriend. 

Soonyoung continued to study the freckles, his fingers lightly tracing your skin with a feather-like touch. As if he was trying to commit every single detail of you to memory. Finally, his eyes meet yours and the corner of his lip tugs up, hinting a smile. “You’re beautiful.”

You feel the heat on your cheeks spreading across your face to the tip of your ears and you become unsure of how to respond. Sure, you’ve received compliments before, but not like this. No compliment you’ve ever received has ever been this intimate or vulnerable. The way Soonyoung said those two words made it sound like a secret. A secret that he uttered quietly into the void, whispering it into existence, just for you to hear. A secret only the two of you would know.

You thought your heart was about to burst. 

Soonyoung cupped your face with both his hands and his thumbs rubbed gently against the soft skin on your cheekbones. You blinked up at him, watching his big, dark eyes roam around your face. The light of your mushroom lamp reflected in his eyes, sparkling and shining with a child-like wonder. 

Your room was dimly lit, the muted colors in your room solely provided by the small lamp on your bedside table. It had begun to rain at some point, the dull pitter-patter of the rain against your window replicating the beating of your heart. 

After what seems like forever, you finally speak up. “Soonie?”

Soonyoung begrudgingly tears his eyes away from your freckles and looks into your own, shining eyes. “Yes, baby?”

“I–” you faltered, unsure of what to say. You pursed your lips and stared at your boyfriend who gave you a soft, loving smile. “Are my freckles that interesting?”

Soonyoung’s grin grew into a boy-ish one and he reached over and pressed a soft kiss to your cheek. “Yes, honey. I want to commit every part of you to memory. I want to learn the story behind every freckle and scar. I want to learn all of you.” 

You felt an unfamiliar warmth stir in your heart, that soon spread throughout the rest of your body, through your fingertips and every cell of your being. Your heart fluttered. Was this what poets and lyricists meant when they wrote of love

“They’re like… I mean, I’m not a poet but-” Soonyoung fumbles as he searches for the right words to describe the immeasurable admiration and love he felt for you. 

Your freckles were strikingly beautiful and Soonyoung felt the wind getting knocked out of him when he first saw the sweet brown sugar sprinkled on your nose and cheekbones. They were like April rain showers that sprinkle the green grass with yellow flowers and Soonyoung thought your face mimicked the night sky, your freckles glinting and gleaming like countless stars. 

“Your freckles… they remind me of beautiful constellations. They can create illustrations in the night sky by connecting the dots and they tell stories, your stories.” Soonyoung paused. “And I love them.”

Your breath catches in your throat. Was he-?

“I love you.”

Soonyoung gazed down at you with an uncertain look, his eyes searching your own for some kind of response. His heart hammered against his chest as he wondered if you felt the same way yet. 

You did. 

“I love you too, Soonyoung. And baby?”

“Hm?”

“That was so much better than your Shrek analogy.”

reblogs and feedback are always appreciated ^-^

[nyashykyunnie]

˗ˏˋ Jinwoo x Fem! Reader ◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ ˎˊ˗

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚𝕊𝕦𝕟𝕘 𝕁𝕚𝕟𝕨𝕠𝕠˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

・┆✦ Entry : 045 ✦ ┆・

╰┈➤ ❝ [ Only If You Say Yes ] ¡! ❞

Jinwoo was the type of boyfriend who never forced himself on you. He was too much of a gentleman you can't help but think maybe you're the toxic one in this relationship.

But he wouldn't give you the opportunity to let it sink in on how good he treats you because he would just bombard you with lovely kisses and gifts.

In the past, he always lacked the funds and time to spoil his precious beloved. Now that he has the means to shower you with luxury, how could he not?

Your lovely and brilliant smile would always be the first memory that plays in his head whenever he feels like burnout and exhaustion is about to swallow him whole. Those precious eyes of yours that never failed to glimmer like twinkling stars are in his mind as he pushes through a hard labor day.

His beloved's face that is like a tender flower blooming at the peak of springtime, his lover's blinding unparalleled beauty will never cease to make his heart stop.

So how could he, a man who is nothing more than a fool in love, not treat you tenderly as if he is handling the more fragile piece of gem?

Every single thing about you is so loveable.

The elders say that the honeymoon phase of a relationship comes and goes quite fast, but Jinwoo begs to differ.

He never really got out of it.

Nor is the fool willing to change his ways.

After all, would you really call it love if you can restrain yourself?

"Sarang, careful there" Jinwoo cooes gently, holding your hand as you curiously took one step in front of the other while playing atop a fallen log. "We wouldn't want you to be hurt."

"I'll be fine, my boyfriend is the scariest hunter after all!" You say proudly, like a proud puppy showing off its toy plush.

"I'm not that scary," Jinwoo hums, the corners of his eyes curling.

"You beat up Thomas Andre like a thug, are you not scary?" He immediately laughs nervously, embarrassed to hear his troublesome history with the fellow hunter.

"...It was justified, sarang, he pissed me off"

"Mhm," You skip, landing playfully on the ground with a soft thud, "So like a thug."

"Sarang...." Jinwoo sighs, relenting in this small banter knowing you will probably not shut up unless he gives in.

And that was the thing about you, you made Jinwoo instantly obedient. Sure, he always considered being polite with other people before but on particularly bad days, he secretly spat and cursed at those people while maintaining an insincere half smile while doing the facade. With you? You can bully him all you like and he would still love you.

Arguements? Rarely ever happens because he is always wrong unless we're talking about safety.

Why is there a need for a fight? Just tell him and he'll correct himself immediately.

Jinwoo just wants to devote himself to you.

That's all he wants.

To see you happy.

"Jagiya?" He calls out, gently tucking a strand behind your ear. "Can I hug you?"

"What's with that question?" You raise an eyebrow but still stretch your arms out for a hug.

Jinwoo's strong arms would immediately.

"Nothing just..." Jinwoo sighs, burying his nose on your hair to inhale the lovely scent he can never grow tired of. "Feeling a bit clingy."

"You know you can always hold me whenever" You say, rubbing his back which prompted the hunter to hold you even closer to himself.

"I don't want to make uncomfortable" He chuckles dryly, "What if I hold you while you're not feeling it?"

"You holding me will always make me happy"

"I still want to ask," Jinwoo smiles, kissing your cheek affectionately. "Just because"

"Jinwoo, you're being sappy, you can't even get drunk yet you're acting like you're drunk" You say, pinching the man's cheek which earned you a soft bite at your digit.

"Well... I cant blame you for saying that" He simply says.

He just wanted to cherish you, really. He really does. The trauma of war can never really be taken out of his system. It's only through you and his family that he can feel sane. If it weren't for that, he would as well be a hollow shell of a human being forced to be a vessel of war by his predecessor.

So don't blame him for being a bit weird sometimes.

He's just a little fucked up in the head after the war.

He'll come around.

But Jinwoo will always, always, cherish you.

꒰ 🪼 A/N: I am still in the process of having writer's block so please excuse this very bland story qwq. I'm mind blocked with Jinwoo and I feel so overstimulated. I might do different characters for now until I get my woowoo juices back. For now, please forgive me guys qwq꒱

ʚ(੭´͈ ᐜ `͈)੭ .｡✧･ﾟ: ~♡ — All stories written by kyunnie; translations, reposts, plagiarism are strictly forbidden.

[ozataku]

[X] 240116 from_INI

[wardenparker]

The Stars Re-Align, part 1

Frankie Morales x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Rating: M for Mature, but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 12.1k Warnings: Reader is given an age and a grown daughter. Starts out as Santiago x reader. Cursing, food/alcohol, meddlesome friends, mentions of military service (obviously), glancing mention of Tom's death, past drug use, off-page abusive relationship, panic attacks, complicated relationships, family drama. Summary: When your daughter and your boyfriend talk you into having a birthday party, you are not prepared for all of the surprises that come your way. Notes: A little love triangle and 'one that got away' vibe for your Feral Frankie Friday!

“Rachel!” Calling from the kitchen is an old, unbreakable habit by now, but dinner is almost ready and you know your daughter is in the living room studying. She has plans with her boyfriend tonight which means she’s getting her reading out of the way, and you’re proud of her for having such good habits and steady resolve. It’s not at all what you were like at her age, and you’ve worked hard to make sure that she has opportunities that you never could have. Being a young single mom was rough, but every second you have with your little-girl-turned-young-woman is worth it. “Supper’s ready, honey. Find your bookmark!”

“Sure thing!” There’s no point in reminding you that her book is a digital copy, no bookmark needed, but she dutifully saves the spot and closes her laptop. “It smells good.” She compliments, walking into the kitchen and over to the fridge to bust out the bottle of wine that had become a habit with dinner since high school. Nothing fancy, just a cheap sangria, but it was a ritual that both mom and daughter enjoyed. “Are you going out with Santiago tonight?” She asks as she gets down the glasses to pour.

“He might come over to watch a movie since you’re going out.” Your two-month-old relationship isn’t deeply committed or deeply anything yet, really, but you like him. He’s attentive, handsome, and funny, and deeply — okay there’s one deeply — good in bed. “Do you want the good parmesan, or the shaker can? We have both.” Spaghetti with onions, peppers, and sausage isn’t necessarily gourmet, but it’s a family staple. Something your dad used to make you when you were growing up in New York City and you have made for your daughter her whole life afterwards.

“Good parmesan.” She hums. “Let’s be fancy tonight.” Bringing the glasses over to the small kitchen table, she moves on to set out the silverware. A chore when she was younger, it’s now just become habit when you eat together. ‘Working together as a team’ is how you always phrased it and it’s something she loves about her relationship with you now. You’re a team. “I’m going to stay at Ben’s tonight, so you and Santiago can have wild sex.”

“Be safe.” She’s twenty-four, so you’re not going to quibble about her sleeping over with her boyfriend, but you do give her a meaningful look when you set down the plates on the table. “Don’t make me a grandmother and I won’t make you a sister.”

Rachel laughs, it’s the same statement you have been using since she was first dating boys after puberty. “But Mom!” She pouts playfully. “I really want a baby sister!”

“Think I’m getting a little too old for that option, honey,” you huff, but laugh anyway. “Ask Santa for one at Christmas.”

She grins at you, bringing over the basket of breadsticks that are an Olive Garden copycat. Plain frozen ones that you brush with butter and garlic salt. So many of the meals you have together are mocks of the restaurant meals she had wanted when she was younger and you couldn’t afford. As an adult, it’s humbling to see the lengths you went to in order to make her happy.

“You’re coming back tomorrow, though, right?” Though you typically aren’t one to make a big deal out of such things, Santiago had offhandedly mentioned to your daughter a few weeks ago that it was a shame you weren’t doing anything for your birthday and Rachel had jumped on board with talking you into a party. The backyard barbecue will be small, but a chance to meet your boyfriend’s friends and have a few of your own friends from work come over. “It was half your idea, after all.”

“Yeah, I’m going to be there.” She promises. “Oh, is it okay if I bring Ben?” She asks. “He’s got another party to go to if not, but he said he would rather spend time with me.”

“Yes, you can bring Ben.” He’s a few years older than Rachel and has had a very different life experience, but you like Ben Miller. He’s doing his best to make an honest way in the world and he treats Rachel with love and respect. And probably in ways that you want to know absolutely nothing about. “There’s going to be plenty of food. Santiago and I are managing that end.”

She snorts and shakes her head. “Of course you are cooking for your own party.” She huffs.

“Get sassy with me and I’ll send every stitch of leftovers home with other people,” you threaten, though it’s hollow and comes with laughter.

“Not like you won’t make enough to still bring home food.” She shoots back with a grin. If there was ever a party, you always made too much food. It might be pasta salad, but you and she would be eating it for a solid week after everyone had gone home.

“Nothing fancy,” you assure her even though you know she’s right. “Burgers and dogs. And veggie burgers for the few people that skip red meat. All the accoutrements. Santiago is in charge of the grill, which he’s very happy about. And I’m making that cheese dip you like along with my guac. Salsa is coming out of a jar despite protests.”

“Let Ben bring the salsa.” She volunteers immediately with a grin. “He’s got some recipe he got from friends he used to serve with.” She explains. “He was going to make it for their party but we can hijack it and bring it to yours.”

“Deal.” That’s one more thing off your checklist and you’re fine with that. ��And the cake is coming from an actual bakery, not a supermarket. I do listen to your protests most of the time.”

“The buttercream is far superior.” She huffs happily and lifts her glass when you are both sitting down at the table. “To a wonderful birthday weekend.” She offers. “One you never forget.”

“Thank you, sweetheart.” You tap your glass against hers and smile. “Forty-two feels like it will be a good one.”

******

“We have the cake, the burgers are all ready to throw on the grill. Fish is bringing the baked beans, Ironhead is bringing the potato salad and you said Rach’s boyfriend is going to bring the salsa?” He arches a brow in concern. “What do you know about this guy? Is it good salsa? Because I’m going to be offended if it’s Pace.”

“I was told he has a recipe from somebody he served with.” The Pace is in its jars in the cupboard where Santiago can’t be offended by it, and you slip past him to look at your checklist taped to the cupboards one more time. “Coleslaw is made, cheese dip is made, and you filled up the outside fridge last night so that’s all set. I think we’re okay. The last thing is the guac and that only makes a few minutes.”

Santiago slides behind you and wraps his arms around your stomach and hums. “So we have time to go back to the bedroom?” He asks playfully, even if he would haul you back there if you said yes.

“Only if you’re planning on disappointing me,” you tease, knowing he never has and never would. Not on purpose. Still, you twist to kiss away the pout that has certainly formed there. “People are going to be here any minute.”

“We could always tell them to go the fuck away.” He laughs as he suggests it and then the doorbell peels out right afterwards. “That’ll be Ironhead.” He predicts. “Will’s always early.”

“Is that his real name? Will?” You call back when Santiago goes to open the door. You can make guacamole with your eyes closed due to the fact that you’ve had this recipe longer than your daughter has been alive, and you go to the fridge to get the ingredients.

“Yeah!” He calls back over his shoulder before he opens the door to find his friend on the doorstep. The smiles are genuine, almost guilty considering the shit they’ve gone through for the past five months since South America. Grief and sorrow have pulled at them, but it also has finally started to let them live again. “You made it!”

“Of course I did. You didn’t think I’d miss out on seeing your ass do something domestic, did you?” Will ‘Ironhead’ Miller slaps Pope’s shoulder. “Nice place she’s got. You tried to move in yet?”

Pope chuckles quietly and shrugs. “Maybe in another month.” He jokes. “Gotta get in good with the kid first.”

“Right, the kid.” With another friendly slap, Will Miller steps inside the house. It’s well-appointed, clean, and obviously loved. “She coming today?” He thinks so, but he can’t remember. Although a barbecue and pool party seems like a kid thing. But somehow Will remembers the kid not being kid. Teenager? He can’t remember now.

“She spent the night with her boyfriend, but she’ll be here.” Pope nods. “Although she’s already said she won’t call me daddy but I can take her for ice cream.”

“Nobody ought to be calling you ‘Daddy’,” Ironhead huffs.

Santiago laughs and shrugs. “You’re right.” He admits, knowing that he’s not father material. One of the reasons you were an attractive option was that your kid was grown. He didn’t have to play daddy, although from what he’s understood, the dad was your first love and was too immature to stick around. “Benny didn’t ride with you?”

“His girlfriend’s got a family thing today.” Will shrugs slightly, but honestly he’s impressed. His kid brother is crazy about this girl. It’s six months in and he’s starting to use some very committed language — which is fucking thrilling to Will as it signals Benny finally starting to grow up where sex and relationships are concerned. “He’s gonna come by later.”

“That’s good. I want him to come and have a few beers. Fish should be here shortly.” Pope will be happy to see everyone, it’s better than just checking in and having a beer. This will be a good time to really catch up. “How’s things with Marie?” He asks Will softly, knowing that Frank has been a little closed mouth about things between him and his lady. South America hadn’t been great for their relationship, although no one really likes her, she’s the one who was dabbling in drugs and got Fish hooked on coke.

“She was throwing some fit last night about Fish being out with another woman.” Which is obviously bullshit. Frankie would never step out on the mother of his child. But living in the apartment next to Frankie and Marie means he overhears plenty of bullshit. “All he was doing was asking if she wanted to come today. So who knows what kind of mood he’ll show up in.”

“Shit.” Pope sighs and shakes his head as he escorts Will though the living room and towards the kitchen where you are. “He needs to just bite the bullet and leave her.”

“We all know that. But it’s Fish. Too loyal for his own fucking good.” Will hadn’t been expecting to see anyone standing in the kitchen, let alone you, and he clears his throat. “Um—sorry, ma’am. Soldier’s habit,” he apologizes.

“It’s fine,” you promise him, actually laughing at the sheer display of manners. “I survived my daughter’s teenage years. You want to know who swears more than soldiers? Teenage girls.”

It’s been a long goddamn time since Will has been around teenage girls, but he just nods politely and offers his hand. “Will Miller.” He introduces himself. “Santiago has talked you up to be some kind of Wonder Woman, and it looks like he was underestimating your worth.”

"That's very kind of you, Will." You take his hand and introduce yourself easily enough, reflecting momentarily that Santiago has pretty friends. Blonde and blue-eyed isn't your type, but good looking is good looking. "Would you mind helping us get the last few things outside? And the pool is open, I hope Santiago told everyone."

“Absolutely, ma’am.” Like any good solider, Will is going to follow orders and he immediately picks up the heavier items to carry outside. “You have a beautiful home.”

"Thank you." It's something you worked hard for, and you continue to work hard for every day. Everything in your life has been to make sure your daughter is healthy, happy, and well taken care of. It was a lucky break that you got a well-paying job in your field to boot. "And you don't have to call me ma'am. Though I appreciate the manners."

“We need to give her a nickname before Taz does.” Will snorts.

"Taz?" You haven't heard that name before, and it piques your interest as Santiago helps you set things out on the table on the deck.

Will chuckles. “Youngest in our team.” He explains. “Short for Tasmanian Devil. Brother’s like a whirlwind of stirring up shit.”

"Got it." The Army nickname thing had taken you a second to get used to, but you're on board now. It's a brotherhood thing, and you like that Santiago has such a tightknit group of friends still. It's not something you've really had much of in your life, so you're glad to see when it happens for people you care about it. "Well, I told Santiago, but whenever your friends get here just let them into the backyard. The bathroom is off the living room, but everything else worth getting at is outside."

“Yes ma’am.” He smirks slightly when he says that again before disappearing out of the sliding glass doors.

"Are all your friends polite and helpful?" You glance back at the man you've been seeing for the last few months and crack a smile. "I'm glad you invited them. It's about time we started to meet each other's friends."

“Until they are assholes.” He jokes, giving you a bittersweet smile. “We lost a friend half a year ago and it seems like we’ve had a hard time getting back in the routine. Thought this might be the little jolt we needed.”

"Then we'll make sure it's a fantastic day." He hasn't confided too much about his years in the service or about where he was before moving back to Florida a few months ago, but this is probably a large part of the reason why. Either way, you slip your arms around him for a comforting hug. It's the least you can do, when he's gone through something terrible and is willing to open about it a little.

“It’s your day.” He protests, turning and kissing your lips. “It’s supposed to be good for you, not me. We will have a few drinks, have a few laughs and then…” He waggles his brows. “Well kick everyone out and I’ll make you cum until you pass out.”

The hum that forms in the back of your throat is as pleased as it is dirty, and you kiss him once more before your doorbell rings again. "I'll get it," you nudge his nose with yours and step back, albeit reluctantly. "Go hang out with your friend."

People trickle in little by little. Friends from work, mostly, and the one mom from Rachel's school days that you stayed friends with despite Rachel and her son never actually having been friends. Eventually the text comes through from your daughter that she's a few minutes away and that makes you smile brighter than just about anything else today.

Pope pulls out his phone and texts Frankie, wondering when he’s coming – or if he’s going to come at all. He is worried about him, knowing that he’s under a lot of pressure. Marie blames him for losing his license and then going down to South America for two weeks when it was only supposed to be one. He couldn’t even tell her what happened and that was causing issues.

Had to wait for the babysitter. On my way now. Says the text that comes through a few minutes later, but there is a temporary distraction from waiting for Catfish: Rachel's car pulls up and parks outside the house, expelling both your daughter and her boyfriend onto the front lawn.

“Come on, Ben.” Rachel grabs his hand and rushes him towards the door. They are running behind because of the pre-party activities he had talked her into and while she’s not regretting that in the least, she wants to get inside and wish you happy birthday.

“Sounds like everybody’s out back, baby,” he steers her toward the fence surrounding the backyard instead of the front door, but when that brings him closer to the actual driveway of his girlfriend’s house he frowns — deeply — in confusion. He shouldn’t recognize the two vehicles sitting behind Rachel’s car and her mother’s, but there they are: Pope’s slick vintage Corvette right next to Will’s jacked up picked up truck. There’s no denying the two vehicles, he’s seen them together far too often. “The hell?” Benny breathes, but Rachel doesn’t hear him. She’s too excited to see her mom and moving them through the gate before he can hang back to do a double take at the cars.

“Mom!” Pope looks up at soon as he hears a familiar happy cry but then he’s immediately frowning. Watching as Ben Miller moves through the fence gate with Rachel. “What the fuck?”

“I told you she was bringing her boyfriend, didn’t I?” Santiago’s level of confusion is confusing in its own right, but you ignore it in favor of meeting your daughter at the edge of the porch to give her a massive hug. “Hey sweet pea!”

It helps that Benny looks just as stunned as Pope does, Will stopping short when he sees his younger brother and doesn’t hesitate to call out. “You made it!” He huffs out and shaking his head at his brother’s fickleness. “Girlfriend’s family already kick you out?”

“Nooo…” Benny blinks against the sunlight, having left his sunglasses in his truck. “You’re at the wrong party, assholes.”

The ball busting smirk immediately slides off of Will’s face, due to the knowledge that there is no way they could be at the wrong party. “Benny…” He glances at a stunned Pope and sighs heavily. “We’re at the right party.”

It only takes about a second more, but by the time Benny breathes “Ohhh shit.” He’s also cackling with laughter. “Are you telling me—” The younger Miller brother looks around and drops his voice for the sake of not embarrassing the girl he adores. “Are you telling me Pope is banging my girl’s mom?”

Will snorts and shakes his head. “Looks like.” He agrees quietly. “Hell of a birthday surprise.” He hopes that it won’t change your daughter’s mind on dating him, Rachel has been fantastic for Ben.

“Fuck….” Pope snickers quietly, shaking his head at the irony. He should probably go spell this out for you so you don’t take it the wrong way. No one knew. Even after hearing about Benny’s girlfriend for months, only Will and Fish had met her so far.

Rachel pulls back and gives you a beaming smile. “Happy Birthday Mom.” She hums, winking at you. “Santiago spend the night last night since I was with Ben?” She’s not been paying attention to the guys, too focused on you.

“We fell asleep watching our second movie.” It’s mostly true — true enough that you can play it off as innocent because you did technically nod off during the second movie — but the empty bowl of popcorn and wine glasses in the living room had waited until this morning to be cleared away once you hauled each other off to bed. “Did Ben have a fight last night or did you guys just go out?”

“No fight.” She shakes her head. “Next weekend, so we just got to go out. Although he wants to know if you would like to come to the fight.” You’ve met Benny and she thinks you like him, but she wants you to get to know him better. Which is why she had suggested they go to your party today instead of his friends’.

“If you want me to.” You don’t feel too excited to watch your daughter’s boyfriend get beat up, but you do want to get to know him better. Rach is so obviously head over heels for him.

“It’s up to you.” She smiles and looks back at Ben, curious to find Will here. “Um— what’s his brother doing here?”

“Whose brother?” Turning to follow her eyes, your head tilts slightly in interest. Santiago and Will are deep in conversation with Benny already. “That’s one of Santiago’s friends. Will.”

“Mom…” Rachel’s eyes widen slightly. “That’s Will Miller…Benny’s older brother.”

“That…” You swallow, slowly registering the situation as you watch the men interact. “That makes things interesting…” You’re dating a man who served with your daughter’s boyfriend…this is going to get complicated…

“Oh god.” Rachel bites her lip as Benny and Pope quickly break away and come over to the two of you. “So…”

“So, this is interesting.” You repeat the phrase almost disbelieving.

“Kind of a funny coincidence, huh?” Benny wraps his arms around Rachel and plants a kiss in her hair.

“I didn’t know.” Rachel promises you with a small shake of her head. “Shit, Ben. I can’t believe I didn’t know it.”

“I think I know why.” You observe, clearing your throat and accepting the comfort of Santiago’s arm around your waist as you look up (and up) at Ben. “I’m going to guess that your nickname while you were serving together was Taz?”

“Yeah.” Benny nods and looks back between all the other men. “Oh fuck, we’ve been just using our nicknames and they didn’t know.” He groans. "I'm sorry baby." He turns to Rachel with an apologetic look. "Pope was talking about his new girl and spending as much time as possible with her, so he missed the last fight you were at."

“It’s a little unconventional,” you admit, wondering what Santiago thinks of all this. “But not terrible, right?” As close in age as you and Rachel are, it wouldn’t be the first time you have had mutual friends. Just the first time you were ever dating mutual friends.

"He's a good guy." Pope assures you, like it's the first time you've met Benny. "And we can kick his ass if needed."

Benny snorts and rolls his eyes. "You wish, old man."

“Rach?” Your fingers run through her loose curls gently and you give her a questioning look. While this isn’t the day you want to have — after all, you do like Santiago — it’s ultimately up to her. Everything is and always has been in your life, and you made that decision for a reason.

"I don't think that you need to stop seeing Santiago just because he knows Ben." She rationalizes. "I think it's fine, what do you think?"

“Just as long as you’re comfortable with it.” That goes for the men involved, too. But they don’t seem to mind beyond being apologetic.

Rachel snorts and shrugs. "Just as long as they don't share sex stories." She giggles and shoots Santiago a smirk. "And we won't either."

“I was not planning on it, sweet pea.” You might be close, but that’s a step too far even for you. “Never ever.”

Agreeing completely, she walks up to Pope and gives him a hug. "So if you make my mom cry, I'll have my boyfriend beat you up." She teases.

“Got it.” She’s a grown woman, but he can’t resist the urge to mess with her thick hair, watching her face wrinkle in disapproval before she moves back to Benny, who smooths the familiar curls with care. “Now we just need Catfish to get here and we’ll have everybody.”

"I'm here!" A hand appears over the fence before he opens it, hat pulled low, and he grunts when he picks up the cooler full of ice and beer that he had stopped and picked up on the way. "Sorry I'm late."

“Fish!” Benny kisses the side of Rachel’s head before peeling off to grab the cooler from him and take it to the porch so his friend can catch his breath. He doesn’t see the tick in the tilt of your head or the way your eyes widen just a second later.

'Fish', or Francisco Morales, looks up and smirks at Benny when he grabs the cooler. Thankful, although he wouldn't make too much of a fuss about it. Getting older sucked and he's still feeling the effects of that workout he helped the other man do just two days ago when his normal sparring partner was sick. "'Bout time you made yourself useful." He huffs playfully and looking towards Pope to wave. Freezing with his arm halfway up in greeting when he sees someone that he had never expected to see before – you.

The way you shrink into yourself immediately is instinct. As much shock as anything else. But within seconds you’re stepping forward to block Rachel from view and shakily a demand an explanation. “What the shit is going on?” You hiss, though you’re not exactly sure who you’re talking to, you just don’t want to make a scene in front of your coworkers. They consider you to be such a calm, collected woman.

Frowning, Pope turns towards you, reaching out to touch your arm and stepping closer to you. "Babe— what's wrong? What are you talking about?" He follows your gaze back to Fish and he grunts in confusion. "Fish? He's another teammate. One of my best friends."

“Fuck.” Deflating on the spot, you feel like you could just collapse where you stand but that wouldn’t help the situation any. “We—we, um—know each other,” you explain quietly. “But it’s been a long time.”

Feeling like he's been kicked in the chest by one of those fucking mules, Frankie stumbles forward and murmurs your name softly. "I— what are you doing here?" He asks, frowning slightly.

“This is my house.” You wonder if Santiago even explained where he was inviting him, or if you have a nickname to their group just like they all do to each other. “I wouldn’t expect you to still remember my birthday.”

All the blood drains from his face and it falls into a wounded look. Realizing that you have to be Pope's girl. "I— remembered." He murmurs quietly, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Seven billion people in the world. Figured someone else would have the same day too." It's almost a kick in the teeth, that comment of yours. Considering he had a fight with Marie because he had said your name this morning when he was talking to himself after waking up. You were the reason he had fought, again, with the mother of his child and she had pitched a fit and left. Making him wait on a babysitter so he could come to this party. To find out that it was for you. He's so fucking lucky that Marie isn't here. He clears his throat roughly and bites his lip. "Happy birthday, gatita." He uses the nickname from a million years ago and steps back. "I should go."

A press of overwhelming guilt and the instinct to stop him makes you reach out, grabbing his arm before you can stop yourself. “No. You shouldn’t.” You admit, even though it hurts.

"No," He shakes his head and gives you a wry smile. "I should." He sighs softly and looks over at Pope. "This is your girl, huh?" He asks, confusing the other man even more. "Keep her and take care of her." He tells him. "You'll regret it if you don't." He reaches for your hand and pries it off his arm gently, squeezing it before letting it go.

“Where’s Fish going?” Benny returns from the deck just a second too late, but just in time to watch Frankie leave again and see the bewildered looks on his friends’ faces.

"I don't fucking know." The entire day has been one big bag of surprises and Pope doesn't particularly like surprises. He turns towards you for some kind of explanation, although the nickname gatita sounds familiar, like Fish has mentioned it before. "You know Frank?"

“We grew up together.” It’s the best you can hiccup out before you take off like a shot, following Frankie through the gate. “Frankie!” He’s already down at the street, but he pauses when you call his name and it gives you time to catch up.

Waiting for you as you rush towards him, Frankie takes off his Standard Oil hat and scratches his hair. Struck by how nostalgic the moment is, waiting for you to catch up to him so many times once upon a lifetime ago. “Look, I’m sorry.” He sighs when you are closer. “I didn’t know, okay? I’m going.”

“I think you should stay.” Not as fit as you once were, you puff a little and put your arms around your waist. “We, uh—for Santiago, if nothing else. You’re his friend and I—I’m somebody you used to know.” And there is so, so much to tell him…

The idea that you might want him there makes him pause and he frowns slightly as he stares at you for a moment. “Only if you’re sure.” He still hesitates. “It’s your birthday after all.”

“It is.” And you’re not sure. You’re really not. But since he’s reappearing in your life almost twenty-five years later, the lump in your throat is winning over logic.

“Last time I saw you was on your birthday.” Frankie frowns, wondering how he could have been such a shit head back then. “Seems like the circle is complete.”

“Eighteen was a long time ago.” It was right before he left for boot camp, and you’d been pushing him to commit to you before he left. A stupid thing to do at such a young age. You know that now. But you were so stupid in love with him back then and there was so much going on.

“Yes it was.” He can admit that, biting his lip and shuffling slightly. “And I was an asshole.” He had broken his own damn heart, even if he hadn’t known it at the time.

“I shouldn’t have pushed you so hard.” Squeezing your eyes shut makes you feel like your heart is going to burst, but the universe has decided that it’s time to finally time to come clean. “I was scared. And I’m sorry.”

“I was stupid.” Frankie has so many regrets from that time of his life, just compounded over the years and he almost steps closer to you, but he doesn’t. He can’t, he doesn’t have that right anymore. “I proved you right. I didn’t come back.” The argument is still confusing in his memory, just as much as it had confused him then. You had pushed to get married before he left and he had wanted to wait. It had become a sticking point and in his stubbornness, he had broken up with you.

“You didn’t come back and you didn’t have a cell phone…and then your parents moved.” With their only child moved on, Frankie’s father had accepted a transfer upstate from the Standard Heating & Oil Co that both of your fathers worked for. “I had—I had no way to talk to you. To—to tell you—” Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, surprising you since you thought you had cried every last tear you had over Frankie Morales.

“Tell me?” Frankie frowns and he does step closer, hating to see tears in your eyes again on a birthday. Especially because they seem to be because of him again. “Tell me what, gatita?”

“Fair warning.” Wiping at the corners of your eyes, you can’t quite look him in his even when you straighten out again. “You’ll hate me. And you probably should, at this point.”

“I don’t think I could hate you.” Frankie admits quietly, unable to even imagine a world where he would.

“You might.” Wiping your hands down your face and breathing out a deep, frustrated groan, you look up again to see the eyes of the boy who was your first everything looking back at you, and you crumble. “I didn’t have any way to contact you,” you repeat again, knowing you could and should have tried harder anyway. “And I was scared of losing you because — because I was pregnant.”

The way his brows pull down is instantaneous and he immediately puts his hands on his hips and twists around as he absorbs your news. “You— you were pregnant?” He chokes out, looking back at you with a wounded expression. “I— what? No? What— pregnant?”

“That’s…that’s why I was pushing you so hard to propose.” You admit, eyes cast down at the ground.

“You didn’t say a word.” Frankie shakes his head. “Why— why didn’t you tell me? If I had known—”

“I thought if I told you that you’d only run away from me faster.” Which, at eighteen years old, had seemed like pretty sound logic to you. “By the time I was scared enough to just want you there regardless, it was too late. You were…you were gone.”

“By the time—” he shakes his head, eyes wide and he swallows harshly. “What happened? Don’t— I— what are you saying?”

"I'm saying that you have a daughter." A fact which sticks in your throat now like you had tried to swallow a pinecone. "Who is smart, and kind, and headstrong, and stubborn as hell. But she's doing so well for herself that a lot of that stubbornness just slides right by."

Frankie blanks out for a minute, staring at you before he turns away. Grappling with his emotions as he bends over and tries to take a breath, groaning slightly in disbelief. “No.” He shakes his head, turning back to you. “No! Don’t tell me that!”

"I'm sorry." It isn't worth much, as apologies go, but you kneel down beside him on the grass and wonder if he'll be mad enough to strike out if you put a hand on his back. "I really am. You should have known a long time ago."

“Twenty-four,” he chokes out. “You are telling me I have a twenty-four year old daughter?” His face screws up in the regret and tears. “Please tell me you’re fucking joking.”

"I had no way to tell you." It's a lame excuse, or at least it feels lame, and you do rest your hand on his back but it's so gentle you don't even know if he can feel it.

“Oh fuck….fuck, fuck, fuck…..” Frankie moans, closing his eyes and his fists bunch against his thighs. “I-I-I— don’t— I can’t –”

"Frankie?" His breathing sounds panicked, and you soothe one hand in circles around his back. "Breathe, okay? Just breathe. Everything's okay. She—she's grown. She's raised. No one is asking you to do anything."

“I—I missed it.” He manages. “I missed everything.” Closing his eyes as he realizes that his trajectory of his life would have been vastly different if he had known.

Oh. It's the opposite. The exact opposite. He's not panicked that you're going to expect him to stay, like you thought he was. He's upset that he missed Rachel's childhood. "There's...there's still the whole rest of her life ahead."

“I— I should have been there.” He drops his head down even more. “Fuck— you must hate me. She must hate me.”

"It's my fault you didn't know. Why would I hate you?" As much as it has ever hurt to lose him, you've never actually hated him. Just missed him. Which isn't the same although they can be confused for each other. "And Rachel— Frankie, she knows the truth. That we were young and lost touch."

“Rachel.” He shakes his head, focusing on her name and it’s so goddamn familiar. “Her name is Rachel?”

"My aunt Rachel died right before she was born," you explain, wondering if he even remembers meeting your mother's sister a million and a half times at different family functions while you were together. He was always invited for every holiday.

“God.” He closes his eyes and shakes his head, hating that he had been such a fucking idiot back then. “I’m so sorry.” He whispers.

"I am, too." More sorry than you can possibly say, but what else can you do at this point but try to move forward?

“So I managed to ruin another birthday of yours.” He pushes aside the grief and sorrow that is threatening to overwhelm him and locks it down. Compartmentalize, shutting down, it’s what he knows best. He can freak out about this later when he’s left.

"It's not ruined." It's awkward, and it's uncomfortable, and you're not really sure what to do now. But it's not ruined. "It's—it's not—I don't know what today is, but it's..." you sigh heavily and stand up again. "I don't know, Frankie. If you want to leave that's up to you. But our lives cross now, and I know...I know Rachel would want to meet you."

“Oh god. Is she— is she there? Here?” He asks, shaking his head. “Can I meet her?”

"If I wasn't going to let you meet her, I would have just kept my mouth shut about the whole thing," you needle him gently. Just wishing he could or would do as much as crack a smile. It seems desperately needed.

The huff, the quarter of a smile is almost involuntary. Almost in disbelief and he looks over at you with a heavy stare. “I want to meet her.” He tells you quietly. “If I had known, things would have been so different for us, gatita.”

"No use crying over spilled milk, I think." Twenty-four years of regret is a lot to process, but you nod in acknowledgement. Just a small motion of thanks that he is at least saying out loud what you suspected.

“Fuck.” He huffs again and uncurls his hands to wipe them on his jeans. “I’m nervous.”

"Telling you not to be seems cruel," you huff, though you're not sure what else to say. "No one planned this. No one saw this coming. It will be as much of a shock to her as it is to you. As—as it was to me to see you."

“Forty-two.” He shakes his head and looks back over at you in awe. “You don’t look a day over fucking eighteen.” It might be a small embellishment, but you look amazing and so much like the girl he has loved for so long.

"You're not so bad yourself." Santiago may be on the other side of that fence, but a part of your heart has always and will always belong to scrawny Frankie Morales from Brooklyn. Even if he isn't scrawny anymore – which is a thing you can't help but notice.

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, centering himself before he nods. “We should go back.” He murmurs.

"I promise she's not scary." Although you'll understand when it is a complete shock to her. And to the others. "Just...let me tell her first? I ran after you so fast that I didn't explain to anyone else yet."

Both of you stand up and he scrubs his hands on his jeans again. “Sure, sure.” He agrees, knowing that it could be sort of a shock, even if she’s known about him her whole life.

"Remember to breathe," you advise him with a wry chuckle, even though it's good advice for you too.

“When I remember how.” Frankie snorts, slightly pacing in place as he glances towards the back yard gate.

"Come on." Nodding toward the yard, you take a step in that direction to see if it will spur him on. The urge to offer him your hand is misplaced, and you have to quell it by putting your hands in your jeans pockets. "We've kept them waiting long enough."

Frankie exhales roughly and trails along behind you, wanting you to take the lead. He has to tell you about Luna at some point, but he will do that after he meets the daughter he never knew he had.

“Sorry about that.” Once you’re on the other side of the gate again, you see Rachel standing in the midst of Santiago, Benny, and Will all looking concerned. “That was…unexpected? Shall we say?”

“Mom?” Rachel moves closer to you and frowns as her eyes slide back to where Frankie is hanging back. “Why are you upset with Fish?” She asks softly, looking back at the other three men and then back at you. “You said you knew him? When? I don’t remember you dating him.” Your dates had been few and far between, even rarer that she had met them, but she would have remembered someone called Catfish.

“I’m not upset, sweet pea. I’m just surprised.” It’s a lie, but a prudent one. You are upset, and it’s because your little slice of peace has been disturbed. But no one did that on purpose, so you’ll just have to live with it. “Why don’t we—we should talk about this inside.”

“No. Here. Now.” She has inherited her stubbornness both you and Frankie. And she’s eyeing the man she had met a few months ago and hung out with suspiciously. He looks like he’s about to be sick and she’s not above taking a baseball bat to his knees if needed, whether or not she had liked him before.

“Rach, I really don’t think that’s a good idea,” you murmur, looking around the backyard. Most people are milling about and a few are in the pool, but they obviously all know something is up.

Rachel stares at you for a minute and then she shoots Frankie a glare because you look so upset before she turns around and marches towards the house.

“You guys, too,” you decide, figuring it’s probably best to get all of this over with. Santiago is dating you, Benny is dating Rachel, and Will is bound to find everything out soon enough.

There’s not a lot of hope for him with the glare shot his way, so Frankie hangs back for a moment. Reconciling the fact that Rachel is the girl that Benny has been dating. His daughter is dating his friend. His friend who has been bragging about his girl to him. And their sex life. He’s going to throw up or punch Ben in the mouth.

Once everyone is inside, you check to make sure the bathroom is empty and close the sliding doors tightly. Everyone outside can wait. This is far more important. “Everything is okay,” you start, making sure that right off the bat Rachel knows you aren’t mad and Santiago understands you don’t hate his best friend. His best friend. Fuck. “It was just—as surprising as it was to find out Santiago and Ben are friends…this is an even bigger surprise.”

Frankie leans on the side of the wall, staring at the tip of his boot as he tries to wait for you to tell Rachel. He can’t blurt it out, she’s your kid. Not his— not really. He hasn’t done a goddamn thing to help raise her, but he has to admire the job you’ve done.

"The thing is, Rach." Blowing out a breath, you reach out for your daughter's hand and just pray she won't hate you. "You wouldn't remember when I dated Frankie. Because it was before you were born."

“Hermano.” Pope’s eyes widen and the nickname clicks. He knew he had heard it before. “Gatita? This is—” he whistles quietly. “Mierda.”

When Rachel still looks confused, you breathe deeply and try your best not to shake. Or to chicken out. "There are a lot of blanks to fill in along the way, but...sweet pea...Frankie is—" Oh god, you're going to throw up. You're absolutely going to throw up. "He's your father."

You could hear a pin drop, or a mouse fart, the room is so quiet. Every head snapping towards Frankie in judgement and he doesn’t pay them any attention, focusing on the one person right now that matters. His daughter.

"I don't understand." Rachel stands bog still, clutching your hand with eyes as wide as saucers as she looks frantically between you and Frankie. She had liked this man. He is a good friend to Ben. But now she doesn't know what to think.

“Your mom and I were high school sweethearts.” Frankie isn’t sure what you might have told her, but he’s going to tell her what he knows to be true. “More like middle school, but you know?” He shrugs. “I didn’t know she was pregnant.” He promises. “I swear I didn’t know.”

Will sighs from the other side of the room. “Oh shit.”

"Everything I ever told you about him was the truth." You had worked hard to always be fair to Frankie when you were raising Rachel, even if it led to never telling her very much about him unless she asked. "He didn't know, and I had no way of telling him. It's been...it's been twenty-five years since we even spoke to each other. So you can understand why I was surprised to see him walk in today."

“And he’s friends with your boyfriend and mine.” There’s a note of disbelief in her voice that Frankie doesn’t blame her for.

“We were on the same team for years.” Frankie explains. “I was their pilot.”

“That’s why we lost touch,” you remind your daughter gently. “He left for boot camp.” Considering Ben isn’t the first Army boy that Rachel has dated, you have always sort of had a suspicion that she was subconsciously searching for her dad in these men. It just never occurred to you that it would actually work.

She looks at him, almost accusatory in her gaze. “Why did you never come back?” She demands. “If you loved her, why did you just walk away?”

That makes Frankie wince, and he shoves his hands in his pockets again. “Have you ever done something dumb and been too goddamn proud to admit you were wrong?” He asks quietly, and Pope, despite his own feelings about the entire situation, won’t let Frankie’s daughter twist in the wind.

“He used to talk about his gatita.” He interjects. “Regretting not making up with her and wishing he could get in contact with her.”

“It was harder back then, honey.” The gentle reminder is important, because Rachel might not have grown up in a world of luxury but she’s definitely never known a world without cell phones or social media. “When I told your grandparents that you were coming, we moved. It was just a little further outside the city, but the place was bigger and the neighborhood was safer. Your grandma found a better job and— and with neither of our families still in Brooklyn, we couldn’t have found each other. Even if your dad had come back looking for me, or tried to call our old apartment? We wouldn’t have been there.” At least she hasn’t ripped her hand out of yours yet. You’re considering that a good thing “We were kids, and we made mistakes. Very big ones. But you know he didn’t leave because he didn’t love you.”

“I would have never.” He promises, his voice thick with emotions. He shakes his head and frowns slightly. He doesn’t know why he didn’t realize who she was to him now that he knows. She looks just like a perfect combination of you and him, with your nose, thank God. But her ears curl just like his.

“Oh god…” In trying to process everything, Rachel glances up and looks at Frankie’s hat again, groaning to herself and wiping one hand at the bottom of her neck just like he does — but neither of them ever noticed the simile gesture. “I always just thought the hat was a funny coincidence,” she admits with a huff.

“My hat?” He takes it off and scrubs his hair quickly before putting it back on his head. “Had it since I was a kid.”

The Miller brothers look confused, and you offer them a wilted smile with your explanation. "Both of our fathers, Rach's grandfathers...they both worked for Standard for forever. That's how Frankie and I met."

“Oh shit.” Benny frowns slightly and moves over to Rachel’s side, squeezing her hip supportively.

"I know this is a lot." It's a lot for everyone, but you're mostly just talking to Rachel. Your whole adult life has been lived for your baby girl and now emotions are unraveling at light speed. "But nothing has to change. You're a grown woman, sweet pea. And whatever relationship you want with your Dad is up to you."

“I’ve spent time with him.” She admits quietly. “After a fight of Benny’s.” She looks back at Frankie and bites her lip. “But I’d like to get to know him as my dad.”

"I know this just got sprung on everybody," you murmur again. The fact is that right now you have a yard full of people and all you want to do is disappear under your comforter and pretend it isn't happening. "But...life throws you curveballs, right?"

“Yeah.” Frankie huffs, crossing his arms over his chest and feeling like his entire world has turned on its head. Wishing like hell he could snort a line but he promised himself he wouldn’t touch that shit again.

"We should give you guys some privacy." When Will finally speaks up, it's to motion to his brother and to Pope that maybe they should step outside. There are a lot of emotions creating tension in this room and they're not going to be made easier by having an audience.

Pope shuffles slightly, wanting to stay, but he also needs to think about this entire thing. The situation is blowing up and he doesn’t want to make things worse.

"Maybe you could throw the burgers on the grill? And we'll be out in a few minutes?" He had offered to be in charge of the grill today but that was before everything had gone to hell and now you have no idea what he's thinking. "And I promise we'll talk through everything, too."

“Of course.” He nods and doesn’t lean in to kiss you like he might have just a few minutes before walking in this house. Feeling almost guilty for the entire situation right now.

That missing kiss is enough to tell you that everything has changed. Santiago has never shied away from affection or from public displays, and this is exactly the time that a partner might have offered that kind of comfort. Whatever you end up talking to him about later, you're now prepared for him to end things. But you can't fault him for that. You had a baby with his best friend – even if you didn't know each other then.

“Baby?” Benny looks at Rachel, checking with her before he leaves.

"It's okay," she promises him, going up on her toes to kiss the corner of his mouth. "I'll find you when we come back out." And she's going to find a White Claw or six in the garage fridge, too. Fuck.

“Okay.” He shoots Frankie a worried look, not liking the despair on his friend’s face and shuffles to the door.

"I figured it might be easiest to just tell them the facts up front and then let all of us talk," you tell them both, now wondering if that was the right move at all.

“Yeah.” Frankie nods, understanding why you did it, but he looks over at Rachel with regret and waits for her to say something.

"Do you, actually...do you mind if I talk to Frankie—" Rachel hums awkwardly over it, before reconsidering. "If I talk to my father alone for a few minutes?" She sort of feels like they're ganging up on him, and while she has questions and she's sure that you do, too...hers are going to be very different from yours.

“I don’t mind.” Frankie glances back over at you for approval.

"I should go make the rounds outside." As much as you don't want to, it is your party and they are your guests out there. Most of whom noticed that something odd has happened even if they don't know what. Still, you nod and lean over to hug your daughter. "Come back out when you’re ready. Ben looked like he'll worry until you do."

“I will.” She promises and Frankie catches your eye as you glance over at him.

“Thanks.” He murmurs, thanking you for the opportunity to talk to Rachel. He knows you could have been very different with this entire thing. Blowing out a breath when you walk out and shut the door, he looks back at his grown daughter. “So hit me with it.” He tells her.

For a second Rachel is dumbfounded. She just stands and stares at him, but then her shoulders slump and she shrugs and she blows out a long sigh. “I guess I know the real reason my middle name is Francine,” she poses, shaking her head. “Mom said it was because The Nanny is her favourite show and I completely fucking believe that because she worships Fran Drescher, but I’m willing to bet that’s one of only like six lies she’s ever told me in my whole life and it’s actually because of you.”

“Francisco Alberto Morales.” He introduces himself to her quietly, nodding and trying not to be humbled by the fact that you gave your daughter a version of his name. Something to connect the two of you.

“And you guys were…you were together for a long time?” She knows the story. She’s heard it from you over and over again. But something in her feels like she needs to hear it confirmed from him.

“Seventh grade until her 18th birthday.” He frowns at the way that makes him sound, how callous it could be construed. He has just walked away after so long.

“And she wanted to get married.” Rachel prompts, needing these landmarks of the story confirmed for her.

“We had a plan.” He shuffles slightly and looks around the neat and well decorated home. You’ve done well for yourself and it shows. “I was going to get through boot camp and my ‘A’ school while she started college and then when I got to my first duty station, she would transfer to a school nearby.” His shoulders round when he remembers that last fight, the missing piece now clicked into place and with maturity, he can see that you had been terrified, not overbearing. “Her birthday, she blind-sided me with getting married.”

“She wanted to skip forward and get married first, and you didn’t agree.” She can see it from both sides, now. As an adult it makes sense why an eighteen-year-old planning his life would think his girlfriend was just trying to trap him — or even that she wanted the wedding more than she wanted him. “But…you never got married at all? Even after Mom?”

“No.” Marie isn’t married to him, he couldn’t do that even if he had been inclined to. She was still technically married to some guy in her past, or so she claimed. “But….”

“Oh god, don’t say Marie.” Rachel bursts out, talking before she can even think. “She’s awful, and I’m not the only one who thinks so. I didn’t feel like I had a right to say anything before but I totally do now and she’s abusive and terrible, and I will absolutely help you leave her if you need help. I’ll babysit Luna anytime and — oh my god Luna is my sister—”

Frankie shuffles and looks down at his feet. Marie hadn’t been at her best the first time that Rachel had come to the bar after the fight. She had been pissed off because his hearing had been postponed again and he wasn’t closer to getting his pilot’s license back.

“Look, if you’re happy, it’s whatever.” Rachel shuffles, not realizing she’s moving the same way as Frankie, and shrugs. She senses she’s hit a nerve. “I’ll still help with Luna whenever you need. I—I always wanted a baby sister…”

“She’s not bad.” Frankie had dealt with her for a long time and it seemed harder to leave than it was to stay. “That was a bad night.”

“If you say so.” She doesn’t believe him, but the very first day she meets her father isn’t the day to push too hard.

He doesn’t know what to say, so he looks around the house again. “Did you and your mom struggle?” He asks quietly.

“My grandparents helped.” The short answer is yes, but she doesn’t want to make him feel guilty. “We lived with them when I was little, then we moved down here when I was about thirteen. Mom got a job with Disney.”

Frankie nods, frowning slightly. He has his retirement and his Thrift Savings Plan from the military, which he will hopefully be able to not use once he gets his license back. He’s not in the best position to offer any kind of help, but he will. “You’re in school, right?” He asks.

“I’m getting my masters at UCF.” Rachel nods again. “I still live with Mom. Here, I mean. She didn’t make me leave or anything when I started college.”

She’s dedicated. Frankie knows that college, especially graduate programs, are expensive. “That’s good.” He bites his lip and wonders if the offer would offend her. “I have my G.I. Bill.” He mentions. “I can gift it to a spouse – which I don’t have.” He shrugs. “Or a child.”

It's a very sweet offer, but that doesn't really surprise her. She already knows Frankie is a sweet guy. "Save it for Luna," she tells him. "I have great scholarships, and that way she'll be able to look forward to school without worrying about student loans."

It’s feels like a rejection, even though he knows it’s not. He nods and clears his throat. “That’s good.” He has an odd sense of pride for her achievements, even though he had done nothing to contribute.

"What do you want to know about me?" There's probably plenty, but now Rachel feels a bit self-conscious. She's at least heard stories about him. All he knows about her is whatever Ben has told him.

“Everything.” The word tumbles out before he can stop himself and he looks embarrassed. “I— I want to know everything.”

"Everything is a lot," she laughs, but understands. She wants to know everything about him too. She's wondered about her father forever. "What if...what if we did some father/daughter stuff? I could come over and spend time with you and Luna or we could grab a drink sometimes? Just...exist together. And all the get to know you stuff will come in time?"

“Yeah.” He nods eagerly and smiles at her, his eyes crinkling and his face lighting up at the idea. “I like that. Any time. Any time at all.”

“Okay.” She’s feeling bone tired by all of this so she can only imagine how you and Frankie feel, but as Rachel moves over to the notepad on the far table to write her number down for him, she purses her lips slightly and tilts her head. Her thinking face. “Don’t…please don’t be too hard on Mom?” She asks, holding the slip of paper out to him a second later. “She doesn’t ever say it, but I know she’s missed you. And she worked so hard to raise me alone, she just…she deserves the world.”

“I’m not mad at your mother, querida.” He promises, taking the paper and looking down at it before he folds it up carefully and tucks it into his pocket. “I’m mad at myself.” He explains. “Too goddamn proud to admit I was wrong, and I apparently missed out on a hell of a life.” He looks up at her with pride. “And a hell of a daughter.”

“Well shucks, Paw,” she laughs, obviously very touched by the sentiment. “I guess we both have a bunch to catch up on. But we can do that.”

He snorts and huffs out a grin. “By the way, I’m going to punch your boyfriend in the mouth.” He warns Rachel. “So don’t go screaming at me when it happens.”

“Benny?” She makes an audible huffing sound. “What did he do?”

“You’ll find out.” He won’t say now, but he shrugs. “He deserves it, and he’ll know it.”

“Seems weird, but okay.” Men do weird things sometimes. She’s not so young that she doesn’t know that.

He chuckles and sweeps his head off his head again. “You look like your mother when you wrinkle your nose.”

“It’s funny.” She wrinkles her nose again but consciously, wondering if she really does look like you that way. “She always said I had your smile. And your ears.”

Frankie reaches out and brushes her curls back behind her ears and smiles. “You do have my ears.” He admits.

“Is it weird? She asks, stifling a laugh. “To realize that?”

“Surreal.” He admits with a sigh. “I don’t know what to think. I went from being too old to have a six-month-old, to being the dad to a grown ass woman.”

“I was teasing Mom about wanting a little sister last night,” Rachel admits with a groan at the irony. “Shows me right.”

Frankie smirks slightly and shrugs. “Isn’t life sometimes a kick in the teeth?”

******

“What a Fucking kick in the teeth.” Will pushes out a sigh in the backyard, cracking open the beer he grabbed from the cooler Fish brought.

“Yeah.” Pope frowns at the grill, pushing the perfectly aligned burgers with the spatula. “Who would have thought?”

"What are you gonna do?" It's not as though Pope has had a lot of time to think, but Will knows him long enough to know that the wheels are already spinning. They have all heard Fish talk about his gatita, and now that they know who she is? It at least warrants a reaction.

Pope glances over at Will before he looks back at the grill, his movements a little stiffer than just a moment before. “What can I do?” He asks rhetorically. “She was his first.”

"Just because she was his first doesn't mean that he has to be her last," Benny offers, not quite sure what else to say. They all know that Pope had been starting to fall for you, even if it had never been said. Now he is very obviously pulling back.

"No, but she would want him to be." He admits quietly. "She had told me about her first love. She didn't tell me his name." He says pointedly when Benny opens his mouth to ask the obvious question. "But she told me enough to know that she's still in love with him. And we know that Frankie never got over her."

"So it's not about stepping back," Will observes, sipping his beer in the hot Florida sun. "It's about letting them be together."

Closing the grill, Pope sighs, hands on his hips as he looks around the backyard and comes to his decision. "Don't you think Fish deserves to be happy?" He asks quietly.

"Of course he does." The idea that Will might think otherwise practically makes him clutch his proverbial pearls.

"And fuck knows we want Marie gone," Benny huffs under his breath.

"His gatita is the one to make both of those wishes come true." He's sure of it and he will bow out like a gentleman. It's the least he can do since the last half year of hell in his personal life is partially his responsibility. He had pushed Fish to come to South America. Pope looks back at both of the other men. "Want to help me fix Fish's life?"

Benny is the first to smirk, clapping his hands together and rubbing them dramatically. "You gonna pull a binder out of your ass or are we talking this one through?"

"First, I'm going to get really drunk and pretend like I'm not falling on a sword." Pope snorts, snatching the beer out of Will's hand and taking a drink. "Then, we're gonna figure out how to get Fish custody of Luna." He tells them quietly. "That little girl is the reason he's still with Marie."

"We just need proof that she's the one with the drug problem." Will mumbles, not wanting to say those words too loud. "And we need his hearing to go through so he can get his damn license back."

"Yeah." He sighs and points at Will. "Can you talk to your ex?" Pope asks, knowing it's a big favor. "She's still working in the DA's office, right? Maybe she can help us? Or know someone who can?" Being a paralegal isn't the same as being an assistant DA, but she knows people.

"I'll see if she can at least point me in the right direction," Will nods in agreement, knowing that as uncomfortable as talking to his ex-fiancée will be, it's definitely the right course of action. "She always like Fish. It shouldn't be too hard to get her to give an e-mail or phone number of who can help."

“Marie isn’t going be happy learning about Rachel.” Pope glances at Benny. “You know that.”

"She's going to be furious." Ben agrees, wiping his hand through his hair and blowing out a raspberry. "She's gonna think Fish kept it from her on purpose."

“Poor bastard looked like he was about to fall over.” Pope sighs. “I hate this.”

"We're gonna make it work," Benny promises him. "Sorry you got shoved into the middle of it, though."

“It’s okay.” It wasn’t and it actually really hurt that he was going to have to end things with you and pretend that he’s just friends with you, but his brother is worth it.

"Better to find out now than a year from now," Will offers, knowing it isn't a whole lot of comfort. But at least it's honest.

“Yeah.” You walk out of the house and he immediately turns to watch you. “Better now.” Santi murmurs, his heart aching.

******

Most people leave around dinner time, splintering off to nighttime plans or to go home to their families. Santiago, Frankie, and the Miller brothers stayed long enough to help you clean up and Rachel is loading the dishwasher when you realize Santiago has gone temporarily missing. On a hunch, you go down the hall to your bedroom and frown to see him there, tucking things back into his duffel bag.

"Decided not the stay the night?"

He hates that you caught him and he stands tall after shoving in a t-shirt and tamping down the guilty feeling. “It’s been a…surprising day.” He tells you. “Figured it might be better to change the plan for tonight.”

"Just for tonight?" You have a feeling you know the answer, but you want it out in the open. No questions or doubts.

His eyes slide away from you and for a moment, he falters. Wondering if this is the wrong thing to do. “No.” He admits, walking over to you and cupping your cheeks in his hand. “I am— was— falling in love with you.” He won’t lie to you. “But you’ve been in love with Frank for far longer than you’ve loved me.”

It's enormously frustrating for him to be both presumptuous and right. The last thing you want is to admit it, especially as tears press at the back of your eyes, and so a protest comes out of your mouth instead. "He's with someone else," you point out, knowing that someone mentioned it earlier. One of the Miller brothers, you think. "He's—he's—it's so complicated, Santi."

“I know it is.” His brow pinches together and he leans forward to kiss your forehead. “And if it’s too complicated, I won’t let you twist in the wind.” He promises. “But you deserve to find out if your love for him is still there.”

"This isn't how I saw today ending." Overwhelmed and next to tears was definitely not on the docket, but you're not going to beg him to stay. That's not the kind of girl you are anymore. You haven't been in a long time. "What a shitty birthday."

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” Pope closes his own eyes and leans his forehead against yours. “I can stay if you want.” He offers in a whisper, feeling guilty all over as his resolve crumbles.

"You'd feel guilty if you did." He's a good man, that's why. It's part of what you liked so much about him when you met, and part of what's grown on you. "Like you were betraying Frankie."

“I would still stay.” He promises.

"You'd feel guilty and then you'd start to resent me." The defense mechanism of crossing your arms over your chest might guard you in spirit, but it doesn't stop you from feeling like utter dogshit in this moment. "Just...know that this isn't how I wanted things to go between us. That's all."

“I know.” He murmurs softly, the slight smile on his lips ironic. “I know, baby. I didn’t want this either.” He admits. “But I’m still going to be here for you. That won’t change.”

“Could I just ask you one favor before you go?” All things considered, it’s very minor and sort of the least you could possibly ask.

“Anything.” Pope would do anything for you, he’s proving that, but he wouldn’t deny you simple request if it’s in his power to take care of it.

“I don’t know if you’re going to see them at all tonight or not but just…don’t tell Rachel yet? She’s going to spend the night with Ben again and I know her. She’ll come straight home to be with me instead. I don’t want to ruin her night.”

He chuckles softly, aware of what that says about you as a mom. “You are a good woman.” He murmurs, leaning in kissing your forehead again. “I won’t say anything to her.”

“I’ll tell her tomorrow.” You promise him. It’s not that you want to hide things from her — it’s that you know she’ll act rashly out of loyalty to you if she finds out tonight. She might even break up with Ben, which is the last thing she actually wants or that you want for her.

“When you tell her is up to you.” He would never think that he should have an input on your relationship with Rachel or when you tell her. “Whenever you are comfortable.”

“Well…” A shrug and a half sigh are the best you can do, not really sure of what else to say. Maybe you’ll get on Pet Finder tonight and look for a cat. Or three.

“Oh…” Pope reaches into his bag and pulls out your gift. “I didn’t want to give this to you in front of everyone.” He tells you quietly. “But this is for you.”

“You didn’t have to.” Especially now. Especially with everything that’s happened today. But you still smile weakly and accept the bag. Yup. It’s gonna be me and three cranky, elderly cats. That’s my future. “I—um, thank you. It’s…very sweet of you. You’re a very sweet person.”

“No, I’m not.” Pope snorts as he steps back. “But you are worth the effort.”

Impulsively, it does make you want to ask why he’s leaving, then. But you know the answer. You know this is about you and Frankie having a past and that nothing is going to change Santiago’s loyalty to his best friend. What’s even more annoying is that you like that about him, it hits harder and hurts more. All you can say without letting the emotions through the floodgates is just to excuse yourself to grab the book of his that you borrowed because it’s downstairs in the living room.

Staring at the door, Pope sighs and pulls his phone out of his pocket to text Will. Deciding that he needs a drink after the emotional rollercoaster of the day.

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon   @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer

My Masterlist!

[iovetecchou]

Alone With You ⧸ Nikolai Gogol

༞ Contains..! smut, very vanilla and soft and fluffy, established relationship, fingering, slightly rough lovemaking, slight!oral fixation, overstimulation, gentle kisses, dacryphilia, creampie, aftercare, cuddles

༞ AFAB Reader.

༞ 1,051 words.

You love Nikolai best when he’s in your arms. Free from the outside world, letting his mask slip. The second you are alone with Nikolai, his demeanor softens and he becomes putty in your hands. Nikolai loves it when you drag your fingers through his hair, your nails gently graze his scalp-pulling a tiny hum of approval from your him.

You can’t help yourself when your hands trail lower, tugging on the perfectly placed hair ornament that keeps his braid in place. Your fingers gently card through his silky locks. Undoing his perfectly-kept braid. The feeling of Nikolai’s snowy strands of hair passing through your hands is heavenly.

Once you are satisfied with your undoing of his braid, Nikolai allows you to take his signature playing card off his face. Revealing his mesmerizing emerald orb. His gaze is soft, half-lidded, and swirling with desire for you. A look you came to cherish because only you get to see him like this— and be the sole person he lets his guard down with.

But what you love more than anything else is when Nikolai is buried to the hilt inside you. His fingers worked wonders when it came to stretching you out. Always getting you nice and slick for him after the third release he granted you just from his deft digits alone. Nikolai only caved when you pleaded for him to fill you up. He desperately yearned to feel you cum all over his gloved fingers once more- but he knew the sensation of your warm, inviting walls hugging his cock would feel all the more remarkable.

Nikolai's thrusts were rough and shallow. The head of his cock nudged your g-spot with each sharp snap of his hips. You were drunk off the overstimulation he gave you, yet your body greedily craved more. The way your legs wrapped around his hips- pulling him in impossibly close as he made you see stars, was proof enough.

Nikolai’s brutal pace didn’t match his gentle face at all. It made your head swirly the way he kissed you so delicately, barely making any noise as his tongue slipped past your parted lips. Meanwhile, you were a whining mess. Drool seeped out the corner of your mouth and down your chin. Which your lover gladly lapped up for you. His soft smile only grew tenfold when you clenched impossibly tighter around his throbbing cock from such a small gesture.

Nikolai always put your pleasure before his because he loved you more than anything. So when one of his hands slipped between your bodies, thumb drawing quick, tight circles into your clit- you sobbed. Tears of pleasure trickled down your cheeks as your lover fucked you through another orgasm. He would whisper, “You are doing so good for me, my precious dove,” His perspired forehead flush against yours as you gazed at him. Tracing over every little detail of his face; an attempt to stay grounded.

The telltale sign that Nikolai was finally reaching his end was when his jaw clenched. Half-lidded eyes fluttered shut as he took a sharp breath through his nose. His rough thrusts would start to falter before he would ultimately still inside you. Your legs would tighten around his waist as his balls kissed the underside of your pussy, filling you up with his cum.

He would whisper, “Don’t waste a single drop my precious dove,” peppering your face with gentle kisses. His slate locks cascaded around your face like a veil. All that mattered in moments like these were you and your lover becoming one. Your shaky hands would come up to caress his face, eyes darting to his mouth as your thumb swiped across his bottom lip. You would pull his face into yours with ease, capturing Nikolai's lips. You always poured all your love into the warm embraces, smiling to yourself as his wispy strands of hair tickled your cheeks.

You wished to stay in moments like these forever with him. Nikolai was one in a million and yours, all yours. He would smile against your lips, too. Pulling back moments later to admire your countenance with pure unbridled adoration as his cock began to soften inside you. You were always sure Nikolai and yourself made a huge mess of the sheets, but you couldn't care less. That would just have to be a problem for future you.

But right then and there, all that mattered was Nikolai. Being able to hold one another so tenderly was something you knew you would cherish for eternity.

When Nikolai would pull out, his gaze would be fixated on where you were still joined. He would be gentle about it, rubbing soothing circles into your hips as he pulled back inch by inch. He wouldn't even think twice before rising, fetching a warm washcloth and a glass of water. Nikolai would carefully wipe you clean, watching your face intently- in case you felt discomfort as you sipped the cool beverage.

You felt like the luckiest person in the world at times like these. Basking in the tenderness Nikolai held for you. Once he cleaned you up, your lover would dress you in one of his favorite shirts. Quickly tugging on his favorite red-heart patterned boxers. Nikolai would join you, making himself comfortable beneath the duvet before dragging you in close.

Your back was tightly pressed against his bare chest as his arms snuggly embraced your waist. Nikolai would whisper a faint, "Goodnight my sweet dove, sleep tight- and don't let the bed bugs bite." A nightly tradition of his. One that always brought a smile to your face.

Nearly every time, you would respond with, "I don't think I have to worry about bed bugs biting, but you on the other hand..? No wonder I wake up with hickeys on the back of my neck." Which always pulled a small chuckle from your charming lover.

As you dozed off, you reveled in the warmth Nikolai's frame emitted. You couldn't imagine a night without being in his arms like this, and you wished you would never have to find out what that would be like. For now, you would focus on the outpour of love Nikolai always showered you in the comfort of one another's presence. Being alone together was far from lonely.

for the lovely @stinkyme thank you for the brain rot ehe

[servantofthefates]

How to Ask Tarot If Your Relationship is Hopeless

More often than not, you already know the answer. But if you need official confirmation, see tarot’s declaration.

STEP 1: Shuffle your deck.

Invoke your gods, your ancestors or your higher self, and ask if you should keep hoping or forget everything.

STEP 2: Draw three rows of cards.

First Row

Dealing from the top of the deck, get as many cards as the number of letters in your first name. (If it is Samantha, your first row will have 8 cards.)

Second Row

Continuing to deal from the top, get as many cards as the number of letters in your lover’s first name. (If it is Bradley, your second row will have 7 cards.)

Third Row

As before, deal from the top. Get as many cards as the single-digit number of the day you met. (If that is August 7, 2019, your third row will have 9 cards. Because August = 8; 7 = 7; 2019 = 2 + 0 + 1 + 9 = 12 = 1 + 2 = 3. Add them all up: 8 + 7 + 3 = 18 = 1 + 8 = 9.)

STEP 3: See the answer.

If, in each of the three rows, you get at least one of the 13 cards below, then your relationship is doomed. Otherwise, hope is still alive.

The Magician

They see you as competition, not as a companion.

The High Priestess

You will thrive better alone than with this person.

The Chariot

Your lover will leave you behind sooner or later.

The Hermit

They would rather grow old and die alone than be with you.

Justice

This person only entered your life to teach you a lesson.

The Hanged Man

You will be waiting forever for this person to love you back.

Death

What the two of you share will never evolve for the better.

The Devil

This person’s passion will always be less than yours.

The Tower

The damage to this relationship can never be undone.

The Star

A happy ending with this person is nothing but a fantasy.

The Moon

Honesty will forever be an issue between the two of you.

Judgement

There is no space for this relationship in your destiny.

The World

The world will end before this person truly commits to you.

STEP 4: Express your gratitude.

Thank the ones you invoked for their advice, as well as your cards for speaking with their voice.

[uravitypng]

𝐈 𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐊 𝐓𝐎𝐎 𝐌𝐔𝐂𝐇: 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑

pairing: denki kaminari x reader, (hanta sero x reader)

word count: 4.9k

content warnings/things in part four: one paragraph of a sex dream, drinking, petnames(babydoll & pretty girl), reader cannot be trusted keeping secrets when drunk, jealous denki(?), written with a chubby reader in mind, i think that's it for this chapter! /// minors do not interact (in later chapters there will be more smut and more explicit content!!)

a/n: this part took awhile to come out and i'm sorry about that but aaahh this chapter had me squealing at multiple parts while writing! i hope you all enjoy!

summary: it's terrible when you're in love with your best friend. it's terrible that he's in love with someone else.

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"Does that feel good?" You whimper and nod your head. His dick is so big that with every single slow, teasing, torturous thrust he's hitting that special spot that makes you see stars. Your back is arching as you try to get closer to him. He sticks two of his fingers in your mouth and you suck on his digits like they're his cock, he grins that signature grin of his and takes his fingers out, running his hand along your body making you shiver as you feel the cool metal from his rings. Afterwards taking his hand and going back up towards your neck. He's holding one hand to your throat, squeezing gently, and with the other hand he's grabbing onto one of your thick thighs tightly, he chuckles, "need words, pretty girl." Pretty girl? Where have you heard that before?

Your morning alarm wakes you up at that moment and as you wake up you can still picture that dream so vividly. Did... Did you just have a sex dream about Hanta?

That has certainly never happened to you before. You can only remember having a couple sex dreams and they were all when you were younger, you've had three in life up until this point, all about pro heroes, even now it's hard for you to look Hawks in the eye. You've never even had a sex dream about Denki in the past and you hope to god you don't. You wish you didn't have this one either. You know sex dreams don't necessarily mean anything and hopefully you'll be able to brush it off when you see him tonight. It was just a dream in the end, that's all.

It's Friday, the 30th, meaning it's Mina's birthday. Mina's house is massive, it's basically the size of a mansion, the opposite of your quaint flat. You shiver just thinking about how cold it must be in that house and if it isn't cold the heating bill must be huge to keep warm all those empty rooms.

Everybody has tried to take time off to spend the night to celebrate and no doubt get very drunk if Mina gets her way.

A few people from her agency are going to be there but she said she mainly wanted to keep it as her close friends from UA. When she told you that you felt less than thrilled about Friday knowing how close she is to Jirou, you've just seen her last month, do you and denki really have to see her again? It turns out though that Jirou is one of the people who couldn't take time off. Momo tried to get time off as well but she couldn't.

You spend your day leisurely getting ready. You shower when you wake up to try and get rid of the dream you've just had from your mind, after you decide to put a movie on while applying expensive strawberry scented moisturiser that you own for special occasions.

You leave yourself some hours to get ready in the evening. There is a few hours until you're suppose to be at Mina's and a couple hours until Denki's home. You know it's not some fundraiser or charity event and you know that there's not going to cameras or judgemental looks from anyone, you're going to be surrounded by friends but you still want to look nice so you start getting ready, giving yourself plenty of time in case your make up goes wrong if you decide to wear any or your outfit doesn't look right on you.

By the time Denki's home it's later than you expected, he was held up at work, and you're all ready to leave at this point but you stay in your room out of Denki's way knowing that he'll probably be rushing all over the place. You don't want to be in the living room if he comes out half dressed, not after your less than innocent dreams last night. You scroll on your phone aimlessly until you hear a knock on your door, "you in here 'doll?" Denki calls out.

"Yeah, just a minute," you reply back and grab your bag, opening the door. You and Denki unknowingly coordinated, black clothes and a leather jacket, combat boots and matching friendship bracelets that you made out of string when you where children that you both still wear to this day, the friendship bracelets colours influencing your future hero costume colours. You leave the house on time, knowing that if you get there late Mina will complain.

When you ring the doorbell Mina hugs you immediately, "oh my god, babe, you look so good, you're the best, let's get you a drink." You chuckle over the fact she completely ignored Denki. She's already tipsy and it's only seven thirty. She drags you both inside and kicks the door closed behind her.

Ochako is already there sitting on the floor in the living room holding a cocktail in her hand. You grin knowing that you get to see drunk Ochako. 'She's so fun when she's drunk.' You didn't know you spoke out loud until Denki responded back, "you're fun drunk too but that's mainly because you're loose-lipped when you've had a few."

"Hey! I take offence to that y'know and I don't even know what you're talking about." You sit down next to Ochako and Denki sits on the sofa.

"Hi guys," Ochako says smiling at you both. "What are you taking offence too?" She asks curiously.

"How when she's drunk she's loose-lipped," he says back to Ochako while laughing causing her to laugh too.

Mina comes backs to you three, overhearing the conversation, with some drinks in her hand for you and Denki to take, plus another one in her hand for herself.

"Denki is right though. You're not very good at keeping things to yourself when you're drunk. Remember when you admitted that you thought Aizawa sensei was attractive?" Mina says, cackling at your dismay.

"Please let's never talk about that again." You bury your head in your hands, they all laugh.

With the coaxing of the others you end up having a drink, beforehand getting Denki to promise to not let you get too drunk. You make idle chat while nursing your second drink by the time you hear the doorbell ring. Mina gets up to open the door and in walks Katsuki and Toru. You all perk up seeing the two together, you knew Hagakure was coming but you never guessed she'd turn up with Katsuki.

Katsuki turns to you all, scowling, already having his arms crossed, knowing exactly what you're all going to say. "We met each other at the door dumbasses," he explains ahead of time before you even get the chance to question him.

Toru comes up to you and starts talking animatedly. Her energy is so contagious it's impossible not to match her energy as you say hello and ask each other about your day. You don't notice that Denki smiles as he watches you catch up and look so enthusiastic talking to everyone. Soon everyone is sitting around, all settled and talking when some people from Mina's agency come in. Not that long after that Hanta and Eijirou arrive last.

Hanta comes around the sofa to the floor right where you're sitting and sits in between you and Ochako. "Hey ladies, what are you drinking on this fine evening?" He asks peering into your glasses. You and Ochako reply and Hanta grins, "oh what a treat, we get to witness you both drunk tonight."

Denki takes note that straight away Hanta came to you and his knee jerk reaction is that he doesn't like that one bit. Mizuki, one of the people from Mina's agency swoops in and comes into the living room looking for a seat. "You can have my spot if you want. I don't mind sitting on the floor," he responds having his own private short interaction, using it as an excuse to join you on the floor.

"I know right Sero! I can't wait until they get really drunk and they both start spilling all their secrets," Mina says eagerly.

"I don't do that." you defend yourself once again, this time Uraraka nods her head agreeing with you as now she's been lumped in with you.

Hanta grins mischievously after seeing you get defensive at the statement, "I don't know about that remember that time when you told us about how you thought a certain pro hero and old teacher of ours was attractive," he teases you. You tell him to shut up but he carries on, "and didn't you once also admit that you kissed Monoma prior to graduating and then there was that time you-"

You cut him off, "you're all the worse," you groan, "and that was a moment of weakness," you add on referring to your kiss with Monoma. You don't know what he was going to say if you didn't stop him from speaking more and you don't want to.

Laughs fill the room at your mistakes and misery. "You might have to fill us in on some of that guys," someone from Mina's agency announces and Kiri starts filling them in on any of the missed context.

"Sayaka isn't there this perfect girl who just started at the office who would be just right for Sero?" Mina sits up to momentarily kneel leaning towards her, giddy, before sitting back down down.

"That new secretary? She is very cute. I don't know about perfect but I think they'd be good together," Sayaka responds and it's clear that she's the more rational one out of the two.

Hanta stretches out, "what's she like?" He inquires and you vaguely pay attention to what he says and the way his top somewhat lifts up as he stretches but still converse separately with Katsuki about the new issue of a manga that you both are a fan of.

Mina tells him about her hobbies and her appearance. She's thin, with sleek black hair and bright vibrant green eyes. She likes baking, singing, going to the gym and going on walks and hikes, when Mina's explaining all this it sounds like it's been ripped off a dating profile. Following Mina's description you then heard Sero say, "she might just be the one Ashido."

If you were paying full attention to them you would of noticed his kidding tone but you didn't. You whip your head around in shock, "what?"

Hanta's signature grin get's impossibly wider, "I'm only joking but I'm curious why you're so invested." He rests his chin on his palm, smiling toothily.

Denki downs the rest of his drink.

"It's not like I'm interested Hanta. I'm just surprised that you were talking about settling down." Maybe he does want to settle down, you suddenly remember that you'd forgotten to ask Kiri if he knew if Hanta wanted a relationship or not.

"I'm surprised too if I'm honest Sero. I thought you'd be that playboy type forever." Kirishima agrees with your opinion.

"Really?" Hanta looks perplexed. "I go on dates all the time."

"I never thought they were serious. I just assumed that Mina convinced you to go on them," Kirishima explained.

"Mina does convince me but that doesn't mean I don't want a girlfriend."

"I never knew that," Uraraka comments.

"I've got many layers," he responds playfully.

"Like an onion," Denki adds on making you snort and push his shoulder.

"Does that mean I can give her your number?"

"Yeah, if you want. She doesn't seem like my type at all though Mina but you never know."

"Ugh what is your type then?" Mina complains.

Hanta chuckles as replies, "not her."

Hanta flicks his eyes over to you and grins as you catch his eyes you grin back. "I expect another date story Hanta."

He leans close to you and hums tipsily, "of course pretty girl," before leaning back to his original position. Your face flushes fleetingly as you hear the petname he has said to you twice now, three times if you're counting your dream.

Denki shuffles towards you and holds up his drink, taking your attention off what Hanta just called you. You look at him questioningly. "Try it, it's nice. It's some drink that Yaoyorozu brought back from when she went abroad. I think you'll like it," he beams at you and you feel your face heat up at the proximity, you're definitely tiptoeing on the line of drunk now. You doubt you'll like whatever's in the cup, you and Denki have drastically different tastes when it comes to alcohol. Either way though you take the straw and take a sip pleasantly surprised that you like it. Denki lights up even more as he watches your reaction. "See, I knew you'd like it. It's not really my thing, I think it's alright but I knew you'd enjoy it. You should trust me more."

"I always trust you Denks," you take another sip from his drink.

His eyes soften and his voice sounds more sincere and less humorous than before, you're too busy toeing the line to notice his sincerity, "yeah you do, don't you." He softly smiles at you and offers you the rest of his drink.

A little later on in the night most of you are completely drunk, Katsuki, Sayaka and Yukio are the only completely sober ones out of the group. Even Hanta is still buzzed which is uncommon as he's got a fairly high tolerance for alcohol.

"I heard through the grape vine that you hooked up with Tsu," Mina asks Uraraka with a mischievous glint in her eye. That is complete news to you, the last you knew is that Ochako was still hung up on Midoriya, forever waiting for him to make a move.

Uraraka hums while smirking, "a girl doesn't kiss and tell."

"Boooo!" Mina responds and you giggle.

Toru speaks up trying to get more information out of her. "What about the last person you had any kind of sexual moment with?"

"Sexual moment?" Sero snickers.

"I'm trying to be broad here Sero, I'll start, mine was kissing Ojiro." Hagakure states.

"That's not very shocking he's your ex," Mina deadpans.

Toru hushes her and starts speaking again, "do you want to know about Tsu or not?"

"I'll tell you mine as well if you tell us," Mina promises.

"I'll tell you if you all say it."

"No way," you speak up after listening into the conversation but putting in no input. 'Sexual moment?' Would that include what happened to you last night and if it did it is rotten luck. You don't want to admit that you thought about Hanta last night but you know that you've drunk a fair amount tonight and it's plausible that if someone goads you on the matter you would let it slip.

You get up from where you were sitting and wobble while trying to stand up straight, you fetch another drink from the side and plop back down to where you were sitting. Hanta grins while watching you sway. "You alright there?" He says with a teasing tone.

"Shut up," you say, slightly slurring your words.

Hanta looks back at everyone else after looking at you and grinning for a couple beats, "I'll tell you Uraraka. I don't know what counts as a 'sexual moment'," he puts sexual moment in quotation marks and gleefully continues the sentence like previously said and says, "but I had a one night stand about a month ago." Ochako excitedly questions who it was while stumbling over the sentence drunkenly. "Someone from a nightclub."

"Boring," Ochako elongates the 'o'.

"You tell us if it was Tsu then."

"Not telling," Ochako replies cheekily.

"Boring," you copy what she previously said, laughing because of that though her attention switched over to you.

You thought you were able to leave unharmed by her questioning by getting a drink and Sero answering but apparently not, "what about you?"

You play dumb, in hindsight it wasn't the best idea you've ever had but you had three shots at this point, you had drunk whatever denki had given you and you were currently on your fourth usual drink. "About what?"

"You know what."

"I really don't."

"Sexual moment." Ochako replies. This causes Hanta to chuckle again.

There's no way out of it this time. "Oohh, that... I'm not telling." You respond and stick your tongue out.

Ochako doesn't approve of your answer, she keeps asking you and you're too intoxicated to realise that she's being hypocritical.

Because of her constant demanding that you tell her people who previously weren't apart of the conversation look over to you wondering what was happening. Out of panic you quickly mumble, "I had a sex dream last night."

"Who was it about?" Mina and Denki respond at the same time. Mina was practically bouncing with joy wanting to know who it was but Denki's tone was different, his was curious and cautious.

'No one important, it doesn't matter. I answered your question about my last sexual moment.' You thought you answered them out loud when you said that but it seems that instead your mouth said something wildly different to what your brain wanted to say. "Someone here," your eyes widen and you slap your hands over your mouth.

"Oh, really?" Sero smirks at you.

You down your drink and avert your eyes from everyone. "What about you then, huh, Sero?"

Sero laughs, "I've already told everyone."

You pause for a second, furrowing your eyebrows, "oh yeah." Everyone laughs at your expanse and you pout. Your response has piqued everyone's interest. Picking up your drink and going to take a sip of it you remember that you finished it in one go, you look back at Denki and take his drink out of his hand. "I'm in serious need of this Denks." You're unaware of this but he is in serious need of that drink too, he lets you have it of course but his brain is going at a hundred miles per hour. You had a sex dream and it was someone here. He's here... he's not the only one who's here though. His palms are sweaty and he tries to wipe his hands on his jeans inconspicuously as he see's how close you're sitting to Sero. Sero's here too.

"Come on," Uraraka whines. "You've got to tell us!"

"I really don't Ochako." you say flatly.

"If you tell us I'll tell you."

"It could of been about any of you, you're all attractive. Is that an efficient answer?"

"You think I'm hot?" Mina says gleefully.

You groan and lay down on the floor. "You're all terrible people."

"Kaminari! What about you?" Even though she's invisible, Toru is practically gleaming as she gazes at him.

"Yeah, come on. You're just as much of a playboy as Sero, always flirting," Ochako presses.

"Hey! I don't do that anymore. Sero is way more of a playboy than me. I don't even know what my last sexual moment was, it was so long ago."

Hanta smirks against the rim of his glass before drawing it away from his lips, "I don't believe that for a second if it was 'so long ago' you'd remember what it was."

Denki yields, "I guess mine was also a sex dream, I get them sometimes."

"'Sometimes' huh?" Hanta smirks.

Denki's cheeks become tinted red and the tops of his ears are the same as he sheepishly rubs the back of his neck. You can't help but think how cute he is when he's all red. Your inebriated brain is trying not to think too much about who those dreams might be about because if you did find out it would be hard to swallow no matter who they're about, even if you know he has no control over the dreams and they don't explicitly mean anything, just like yours didn't.

Your inebriated state can only do so much though as while you try not to think about who they are about you picture yourself in their place. You blink a few times briskly in an attempt to not remind yourself how Denki looks when he's shirtless around the house or at the beach or when he's just come out of the shower, water dripping down his chest, lean body that you've gazed at more times than you'd like to admit and his happy trail that matches the colour of his hair. Faint freckles that dust his shoulders and surprisingly built upper arms. You've never seen the rest of his body though, you wonder what- you shake your head rapidly to try and stop thinking about him, this time more successful than the excessive blinking.

You opt to save Denki from any more further teasing from Hanta, even if your decision was mostly a selfish one to take your mind of his answer. "What about you Kiri?"

He makes a sound of confusion, "huh?"

"What was the last time you did something sexual with someone?"

"A sexual moment," Hanta adds on with an easygoing smirk, subsequently making you laugh.

Kirishima responds by telling you all it was his ex-girlfriend. You're not particularly stunned by this but others are even if they broke up close to a year ago. Kiri has never liked the idea of flings or sex without feelings, he's always labelled himself as a romantic.

Bakugou vehemently refuses to answer the question when directed at him.

Later into the night you and Yukio are discussing the last gala, both of you attended but neither of you saw each other. Yukio was only drinking water tonight and because of that he was still more put together than others, including yourself, whose outfits were all askew by now and hair in disarray. Yukio has a very comforting presence with his warm smile and snow white hair. His slate gray eyes making him look half a decade older than he really is due to all the stress of hero work. Maybe that's one of the reasons why he notices the same things you do, perhaps you're both equally overworked and need a break.

"There was rather a lot of photographers that night, wasn't there? More than normal I thought, it was fairly odd." You nod your head in agreement, you thought the same thing. Maybe you should both take some time off at your respective agencies. "Hopefully they caught my good side though," he jokes and you share the same sentiment, only this time it's genuine and not a joke like him. You'd hate if they took bad angle photos that showcase your insecurities. Your body self esteem has been decent of late, you don't want some paparazzi to make it lousy.

After more alcohol and even more gossiping and chatting somehow you get dragged into doing karaoke, singing duets with Kirishima and Hagakure at the top of your lungs. They're better singers than they let on, you on the other hand not so much. At the best of times it's not your forte but when you're slurring your words the skill set difference becomes even more noticeable.

"Has anyone told you that you look beautiful tonight?" Sero grins at you, always the flatterer. Mina was the only one to mention your outfit and your appearance. After spending so long on it it's wonderful hearing someone else compliment you and also say you look good.

"Not as beautiful as you fine gentleman," you say play along, laughing. Hanta does look good, just like everyone else, wearing a grey button up with jeans and an orange and silver chain link drop earring, really tying in the whole casual alternative look that he normally has outside of his hero persona.

"Thank you I try my best," he teases you. You lean on his shoulder and snicker calling him a dumbass. "Careful there you're starting to sound like Bakugou."

"Oh goodness anything but that!" You joke.

Katsuki and Toru are standing pretty close together and you wonder if it was truly a coincidence that they came to the door together. Coincidentally your intoxicated brain ignores the fact that Kirishima is standing even closer to Bakugou on his other side.

You don't know what they're talking about but you caught a couple words 'group, beach' however you may have misheard because it also sounded like 'grope, bitch.' You believe it's likely the first set of words you heard because you highly doubt they'd say the other words, unless they were quoting something someone said, like Mineta.

No one's doing karaoke anymore but music is still playing in the background, not too loud to not have conversations but loud enough that you can still dance and sing to the songs. "Denkiiii, dance with me!" You grab Denki's wrist and try and pull him up with you so you can dance.

Denki chuckles and doesn't move, "you'll fall over if you dance babydoll."

"That's not true!"

"Yes it is."

"Well that's more of a reason for you to dance with me so you'll catch me," you giggle trying to pull him up again, unsuccessfully.

Instead of letting you pull him up, he pulls you down making you shriek. You land right next to him so close your foreheads almost bash into one another and he laces your fingers with his while you were falling down. "Meanie," you pull a face. Unlinking your fingers from his, you wrap your arms around his neck and whine trying to convince him against the crook of his neck, "come on! Dance with me." You try and pull him up again while still holding onto him but from where you're sitting the only thing you manage to do is to get Denki to wrap his arms around you. You're currently still draping your arms around him and he's wrapped his arms around your plush waist tightly like he's afraid to let you go.

You stay like this for some time, holding each other, you can't tell if the hug lasted for five seconds or five minutes. When he separates from you he makes sure you've also separated from him so he can look at you properly and make eye contact. Denki smiles at you fondly, "promise you'll try not to bump into anything or fall over? I've been drinking as much alcohol as you, I might not be able to catch you. We might just end up falling down together."

"Sounds perfect," you reply happily pulling him up by linking your hands again, this time he lets you pull him up and you successfully and safely dance together, without falling over, until you're out of breath, him spinning you around and the both of you dancing up and down.

When it gets even later in the night you're getting more and more drunk and because of that you are in fact becoming more talkative and more likely to blab about your secrets and feelings like everyone said. You should leave soon before you spill anything but you're talking to Ochako and tell her that you thought she still liked Midoriya.

"I'm just stunned that's all. I didn't realise you were into Tsu." You grab hold of her hands and slightly shake them up and down, leaning close to her so she can hear you over the music. "I'm so pleased. I thought you'd like Deku forever," you whine at her and pout. "You're the best. I love you, you know, and you deserve better than to wait years for Midoriya to confess."

Ochako giggles and shakes your hands up and down with you. "I know," she whines back. "Deku's great and all but I'm so glad I've got Tsu now."

"So you and Tsu really are a thing?" You gasp. Ochako beams at you and nods her head. You squeal in giddiness.

"If we're here telling secrets you've got to tell me about Kaminari. It's pretty obvious that you're dating but I still want to hear you say it," she tells you. "I don't want you to ask me to be your bridesmaid before you even let me know you're together."

"What are you jabbering about?" You grumble starting to fiddle with your fingers bashfully.

"Come on, it's not fair if you don't tell me otherwise. I don't know why you were acting so elusive earlier about the sex dream you had, it was clearly about Kaminari."

Your face heats up at the implications and drunken images flash through your mind about Denki in bed for the second time tonight. Is it that obvious about your true feelings? "I swear there's nothing going on. He's my best friend. That's all."

"I don't believe that." Uraraka crosses her arms and looks at you.

"I'm telling the truth, Denki's been into Jirou since UA and my dream last night wasn't even about him."

A smirk appears on her face at this new founded information and the unfamiliar tone you used that she didn't recognise as you spilled. "ooh, who was it about then?"

"This might be the worst drunken experience of my life," you mumble.

Ochako laughs, "I'll get you to tell me one day. I'll get you to tell me everything."

"I'll never tell," you respond adamantly.

You turn your head to look at Hanta, Denki, and Eijirou who are all engaged in conversation. A gentle smile appears on your face.

taglist: @stabbygabyy @boreaswrites @cherribxio @st4r-girl-official @xnorthstar3x @kelly-fushiguro345

[renthony]

Lost in the Remaster: Star Trek, Vintage Special Effects, and the Charm of Old Media

by Ren Basel renbasel.com

Originally created by Gene Roddenberry, Star Trek is a franchise that spans decades. From the original series of 1966 to current shows such as Lower Decks, it stands as a titan of television and pop culture. The real world has undergone incredible change since Star Trek’s first appearance, yet nerds everywhere still find entertainment, inspiration, and hope in its classic episodes. Recently, along with my husband and best friend, I decided I wanted to attempt the gauntlet of watching the entire franchise from beginning to end, revisiting favorites and finally checking out the ones I missed. Media and fandom studies are my passion, after all, and Star Trek is a foundational part of modern American nerd culture.

Starting with the original series proved more difficult than expected. Living in a tiny apartment, we don’t have much space for DVDs, so Star Trek wasn’t in our existing collection. The local public library didn’t have copies, either, and putting in a purchase request doesn’t guarantee it will be made available. My family doesn’t have the funds to pay for every single streaming service on the market, and Star Trek isn’t available on any we do have access to. Piracy was starting to look like the only option, but even that fell flat when we couldn’t find a version with subtitles. Finally we dug it up officially and with subtitles, for free via PlutoTV, but there were still limitations: PlutoTV only streams season one, and season one is only available in the remastered edition that replaced the original special effects with new visuals.

It wasn’t ideal, but, hey, it was Star Trek.

Watching just one episode a week gave us enough time to scrape together savings to get what we really wanted for seasons two and three: the official BluRay release, which includes both remastered and original-release versions of each episode. The remasters are fine, but as a lover of media history and practical effects, I’m always disappointed to lose a chance to appreciate the originals. It doesn’t matter how good it might look, remasters are never as much fun to me as matte paintings, camera tricks, and whatever the prop department could pull off with ten dollars and some glue.

Finally having the BluRays in hand for season two only affirmed my love of vintage practical effects. Seeing the Enterprise in her original glory, before she was ever rendered in digital form, felt like opening a time capsule. I love time capsules. My favorite pieces of media are always those which capture a moment in time, showcasing the aesthetics, concerns, and culture of the time and place they were created. Star Trek: the Original Series is rooted in the late sixties, when mainstream culture in the United States was experiencing immense upheaval and social change. That context is written all over the show. The vintage effects add to it, grounding it in a very specific time and place. Updating the show’s effects takes away some of that 60s aesthetic, and while some may see it as making the show more timeless, I don’t care for it. To me, seeing what they could pull off before modern technology is half the fun of watching old shows. The ingenuity and creativity of propmakers, makeup artists, and set designers working on shoestring budgets is unparalleled.

To be clear, digital effects are also done by skilled professionals who deserve much more respect and many more labor protections. There are some truly stunning works created with digital tools. That said, I hate when digital effects are used to cover up the practical effects that came before. It feels disrespectful to the original artists, as if telling them their work wasn’t good enough; as if their work was just a placeholder until something better could come along and fix it. Practical effects aren’t a placeholder, they’re an art form in their own right, and that art form is one for which I have deep appreciation.

It frustrates me that the original, non-remastered episodes were such a pain for us to access, but I’m very glad to have added them to my personal media collection. No matter what future tweaks Star Trek’s rights holders might make, I can always pop in our personal copies to enjoy the Enterprise and her crew in all their vintage, “outdated” glory. If you’re also too young to remember the show’s original airing, and you have the opportunity to watch the unedited version, I highly suggest you do. Watching the version that aired in 1966 gives the show a charm that no amount of remastering can ever match.

_

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[tinydefector]

lovers amongst the stars

Megatron × GN human

Small post smut, after-care fic

No real warnings: naked bodies, craving each other.

because I love soft megatron falling even more in love.

1K words

Request and ask open, read pinned post

Megatron Masterlist

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Megatron watches in the dark shadow of the hub suite, optics flickering in the low light that filters in from the flickering stars. A Soft naked form is silhouetted against the starlight and darkness, his optics traces his lovers form in true contentment. His human lover gracefully moving against the piles of silk and satin soft pants falling from their lips.

How Megatron longs to close the distance between them again, to take their fragile flesh into his powerful servos and hold it close, to feel skin pressed against his haul, listen to the soft music that falls from kiss swollen lips.to hear the angelic frequency when they call his name in extasy, he remains watching, gazing his fill of their stunning form,

He feels his spark stutter as his lover turns, optics meeting those delicate eyes sparking with the red glow of his own. now gazing upon him. A soft smile curves his human's lips, and Megatron is undone wishing to have his lover pressed back against him in the most intimate manner possible.

Before he can beg forgiveness for his voyeurism, they moves to him, taking Megatron's battle-scarred servo between both hands. Megatron holds perfectly still, vents catching, as they presses gentle kisses along the seams and lines of his digit joints, tracing each line and curve.

No weapon of war has ever been treated with such tenderness, nor from one so small and delicate. Megatron's chains suddenly feel unbearably tight. This human, this mere organic, sees not a conqueror or tyrant of worlds - only sees Megatron, their lover. Megatron thinks that perhaps, just perhaps, he too can settle for an easy life if it was ever granted to him, but only with his sweetspark, he would damn himself just for them.

"Megs?" Falls from his lovers lips lightly as those eyes stares into megatron's ruby coloured optics. Turning more to come megatron's faceplate with a small hand tracing the lines that had worn into the plating over millennia's of war, soft fingers move against hard metal with the most delicate touch as if afraid they would hurt him.

Megatron's optics shutter briefly at the intimacy of the act and that single word, his nickname. He leans into the gentle touch on his battle-scarred face,his own servos tracing familiar curve of their hip, side and legs. servos itching to pull that fragile form close, to feel them wrapped around him again.But still he remains motionless.

Onlining his optics again, Megatron finds them gazing up at him searchingly, as if tracing far more than mere plating, how megatron wish it could be his spark in this humans hands. hand continues its path undaunted, and Megatron feels his chains loosening one link at a time. This human accepts him - all of him, past and present. And in those arms, Megatron believes he has finally found a home.

Megatron feels his sparks swell at the sound of giggles. He had not meant to let his gaze linger. megatron's thumb presses against his lovers chest, the soft beat of their heart, still races, metal against skin, Both existing in the silence of the hub suite only the two of them and flickering star light. "Didn't realise you enjoyed listening to my heartbeat" they teases. leaning into the giant metal hand as if it were made to fit again the organic form.

In this moment there is only them - two beings from separate worlds joined in the simple meeting of metal and flesh, spark and heart. Truely they were starcross lovers. Megatron lets the steady rhythm wash over him, that despite all odds somehow one so fragile has found the will to keep his spark beating. "I had not realized either, little one," Megatron rumbles softly, optics dimming in contentment, "but its song is sweeter than any chorus of Cybertron. I could listen to it every night and never tire of it, a song that sings for me in such a delicate manner, my sweet spark singer" He bends slowly to touch his helm to theirs, surrounding and surrounded by the life and light and love that has cracked through his armor at long last.

Megatron's optics dim fully as press forehead to helm together in the most intimate of gestures. For a gladiator built only for destruction, the simple contact feels like salvation, crackling through his circuits like the riches high grade energon. They are everything.

Megatron never thought he could have - redemption, compassion, unconditional acceptance of his marred and stained past. In his sweetsparks presence, all of Megatron's eons of hardship and conflict seem to fade, leaving only the glow of their mingled life-forces, one metallic and eternal, the other warm and fleeting. Megatron vows silently to shield this fragile gift with his very spark. As long as it beats, he would love them until the stars took him.

They may come from different worlds, but in each other they have found home, and that is well worth fighting - and living - for. Megatron folds them carefully against his chassis, embracing this divine fragile frame.for the heavens that have seen fit to bring them together if only for a moment in time.

A low, resonant hum rises from Megatron's chassis in response to the sensuality of the moment, vibrating through the plating against thier cheek. One small hand covers the gleaming silver armor guarding Megatron's spark, and he aches to show the glow within, to bare that most vulnerable part of himself without fear of its light extinguishing.

optics shuttered in blissful tranquility as Megatron's armored hand comes up slowly to cradle his lover closer. finds himself humming a nameless tune, some half-remembered melody from his time in the mines. his spark has stilled to a soothing tide. Here is absolution, amnesty, and above all else - love, freely given without demand for anything in return. Megatron marvels at the simple beauty of it, the soft skin of his human lover drapes over him in the most tranquil way possible.

This was one of the things the Ex warlord loved the most about his Conjunx.