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#frankly I don’t want that role here!
stayathome-ts · 1 year
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This is getting increasingly messy.
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mostly-imagines · 19 days
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Still Wanna Play?
jason todd x afab!reader
aka jason puts you back in your place
warnings: explicit sexual content (18+), soft!dom jason, (attempted) soft!dom reader
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When Jason returned from patrol last night you were in a mood. The second he walked in your bedroom you’d given him those eyes, those sweet, wide eyes. The ones that let him know you want him to do whatever he wants to you, as long as he does something.
He’d settled on pinning your wrists to your stomach and holding them there as he ate you out, only breaking away to tease you about how desperate you were for him to take care of you.
And you were, to be fair.
But now, as you lay in bed next to him hours later, your mind starts to drift into what-if territory. But not your usual, worst-case scenarios. Something new. Something…interesting.
What if he was that desperate for you to take care of him? Would he even let you push him that far?
You’d never really tried to reverse your roles—you’ve been on top plenty, but always with his hands around you, controlling your pace or his words of direction.
But you really wanted to know.
You turn your body to fully face him, making quick work of removing his book from his hands and setting it open on the bedside table.
Your proximity returns quickly, nustling up against his side, placing scattered kisses along his bicep.
“What’re you doing, sweetheart?”
“Nothin’, Jay. Just wanna be close to you.”
He hums, skeptical. You’re not usually so forward with initiating, especially after you’ve already had your fun that night.
You shift up onto your knees, climbing across him to sit on his lap.
He grabs your waist and you break away from your stream of kisses. You place your hands on his wrists, though barely able to wrap them halfway around, moving his hands off of you.
He looks at you funny, unsure of what exactly you’re going for here. You guide his hands down to the bed, pressing down on them lightly before returning your touch to the sides of his face.
You lean further into the kiss, forcing him to lay back on the bed.
He pushes himself up on his elbows and moves a hand up to find your body again. You move it back down by his side again, not halting your kiss this time.
He pulls back from the kiss and looks up at you, studying you.
“What are you playing at?”
You smile, shaking your head lightly, “Just wanna play.”
You start to roll your hips on him, making him groan. He starts to shift under you again and you nip a light bite on his neck that makes him still.
“Ah.” He clicks his tongue, “You wanna be in charge? Is that it?”
You pull back to meet his eyes and. nod, your lack of vocalization not helping your mission. Still though, he’s not making any moves to take over.
“Think you can do it? It’s a big job, baby.”
You nod your head quickly. “I can, Jay.” You assert. “I will.”
He tilts his head at you, smiling. “Alright then, sweetheart. Go ahead.”
This feels like a trap. Maybe it is, but you’ll be damned if you’re not going to jump at the opportunity.
In any case, you lay your body fully on top of his and trail kisses across his collar, starting to leave bruises in your wake.
You take his wrists in your hands once again, this time moving them up to pin them beside his head. Now you know he’s just letting you play your game, if not just to see where it goes. Frankly, you’re surprised he’s let you go this far.
It’s a bit silly though, you have to imagine. You, holding down this massive man by his wrists, as if anything you did could do anything to stop him from moving if he wanted to.
You continue to nip at his neck, making sure to pay extra attention where you know he’s sensitive.
He makes a low sound in his throat, something that sounds close to a warning.
“It’s alright, baby. Don’t gotta be so tough all the time.”
The look he gives you lets you know he’s biting his tongue, giving you your chance to play man-in-charge. And you are just playing, really. You don’t know it yet, but he sure as hell does.
“I know it’s hard, but you can let me take care of you for a change, can’t you?”
You start to grind down on him, earning you a low exhale from him. But you want more.
You relax your grip on his wrists and rub soothing circles on his palm, nuzzling your face further into his neck.
It’s enough to make him relax under you, which for him, is a clear sign in him placing his trust in you here. It’s what you’ve been waiting for.
“That’s my boy.” You whisper, kissing his forehead. It’s half condescending, half true to what you know he likes. He loves it when you call him yours, it makes him shut right up and go all heart eyes on you.
You’re basically making out with the sweet spot under his jaw as you move your hips back and forth over his growing hard-on.
With the way his wrists keep flinching under your hand, you can tell that he’s having a hard time keeping his hands to himself. Usually when you ride him, he’s all over you, hands caressing your body everywhere he can reach.
If you weren’t testing the limits so much here, you’d reward him for listening to you so well, but you’re not about to bide your time under these circumstances.
You lift up your hips and pull down on his boxers, freeing his length. You don’t do anything yet though, simply ghosting your lips across his cheek.
“Baby…” he groans, but this one’s less of a warning, closer to a plea. Okay, we’re making progress.
You sink down onto him slowly, adjusting to his size proving to be no easy feat from this angle.
He closes his eyes and bites the inside of his cheek as you lower yourself, inch by inch.
Admittedly, this is a lot easier when he’s kissing you and touching you and exactly where you need him, whispering in your ear how good you’re doing for him, what a good girl you’re—no. No. You can do this on your own. You can do this for both of you.
He finally bottoms out and you’re able to begin moving your hips up and down, up and down.
And you try. You really do try, but he’s just so big and even when he’s helping you (which he pointedly is not), riding him is a difficult task.
On a good day it’ll take you out of commission for walking for at least the next few days. Now, you’re not even five minutes in and you can already tell it’s going to be at least a week. Maybe you should’ve waited to do this on a night when he hadn’t already made you come three times with his tongue.
You put your weight into holding his wrists down, hoping it’ll help you gain some traction. It doesn’t do much.
It’s a big job, he said. At the time, you may have been a little idealistic about how this was going to play out. Though, were you even the one who decided to ride him, or did he put you on top? You struggle to pull back the memory now, your body giving the choice of movement or thinking—you can’t have both. Movement it is.
It’s not long before your thighs start to burn and you have to battle just to hold yourself upright. The movement you are able to make just isn’t enough. You can’t go fast enough or take as much of him as you want on each bounce. Though at this point, ‘bounce’ is generous.
Jason’s smile just grows the whole time he watches you struggle, eyes roaming shamelessly up and down your body.
“Aw, poor thing. Can’t do it?” He asks, hand coming up to stroke small circles on your hip with his thumb. This time you don’t stop him—you can’t.
“Jay…” You whine, not ready to endure his teasing. Too bad.
“What, hm? What d’you want? You’re the one in charge sweetheart, do it yourself.”
How the hell did he manage to flip this around? Actually, if you were thinking more clearly right now you’d realize that you never really managed to reverse your original roles at all.
You move your hands to lay flat on top of his chest, a position that isn’t doing you any more favors than the last one.
You throw your head back in frustration, movements halting.
“Not so easy, huh?”
You pout down at him, brows furrowed. He smiles wider and sits up all the way, giving you a sweet kiss. Okay good, he’s going to be nice about this. You hope.
His hand comes up to comb the hair out of your face, forehead resting against yours.
“Tell me what I want to hear.” He whispers.
Oh. You don’t want to. Not after all that game you talked.
You shut your eyes. “Mm…”
“Can’t hear you, baby. Speak up.” He pinches your waist for emphasis.
What are the odds he ever lets you live this down if you give in? What are the odds of him letting you finish if you don’t say it?
Cost. Benefit. Cost. Benefit. Cost…benefit…
Fine.
“You’re in charge.” You mumble defeated, but still making sure to be clear enough that he won’t make you repeat it. Though that’s never a guarantee.
“Oh yeah?”
You open your eyes and meet his teasing gaze through a lowered brow, willing him to go easy on you.
“That’s alright, baby. I can take things over for you.” He says sweetly, kissing the side of your head before pulling out of you.
You gawk at the sudden emptiness in you and move to complain before he flips you on your back, head hitting the pillow with a light thud.
He takes hold of your wrists this time, raising them above your head, pinning them together with one hand.
He uses his other hand to caress up your side, up to the underside of your breast, brushing his thumb back and forth.
“Thought you were my good girl, hm? What happened?”
You stare up at him, not quite able to formulate an answer and not quite sure if he wants an answer.
“Don’t wanna be my good girl anymore? That it?” He asks, brow furrowed with a light pout on his lips.
You shake your head fervently, you do, you really do. You are.
“No, I just—”
“Just wanted to play? Yeah, I remember.”
He lets his hand drift back down your side, dipping past your waist. His knuckles ghost over your clit, not kind enough to grant you any pressure. The teasing brush makes you whine and squirm.
“How ‘bout now, baby? You still wanna play games?”
His hand brushes past again, slower.
“Answer me.”
“No, I’m done. I’m done. Please, Jay…”
“Please, Jay…” he mimics, a small smile playing on his lips. “You’re lucky you’re so cute.”
He positions himself at your core, sliding back into you tantalizingly slowly. With you as wet as you are, you know he’s not doing it to help you adjust so much as to torture you.
Once he sinks all the way in, he lets out a small groan and squeezes his eyes shut. He begins to move, the return of the sensation feeling like a saving grace.
He starts to pick up his pace, entering a rhythm that you couldn’t have dreamed of achieving when you were on top.
As he continues on, it doesn’t take him long to find that spot, meeting it with accuracy on every stroke.
You let out a broken moan, his hand once again grazing your clit back and forth in reward.
“That it? Right there, baby?” He knows damn well he’s hitting the right spot, he could draw a fucking map at this point.
“Y—yes, Jay. Please, please. Just let me—”
“I know I don’t hear you trying to give orders.” He says, hand snapping away from where you need it.
“No, I—I’m just…please.” You sound honest to God desperate and it’s enough to push his already light resolve to its end.
“I know, baby. I’m sorry. I’ll take care of you, don’t worry.”
His fingers finally touch your clit with intention and that alone is enough to leave you gasping.
He draws circles over your clit just exceptionally, making your breathing speed up and your legs shake in anticipation.
You look up at him, eyes pleading. “Please?” You whisper, breathless.
He squeezes your wrists, gaze still focused on where your bodies meet. “Yeah, baby. Yeah. Go ahead.”
And it sure is a good thing he said it when he did because you were over the edge like that.
His eyes snap back up to your face the second you start to tighten around him. “There she is.” He mumbles, eyes scanning your features carefully. “That’s my girl.”
His head drops into your neck, releasing your wrists above your head in favor of holding your hand. “Oh, fuck,” he groans, grip tightening as he comes right after you.
Your free hand comes down to caress the back of his head as he finishes, short hair fluttering between your fingers.
You lay beneath him, chests heaving, bodies both lax.
“Was—was I…” you trail off, still thoroughly out of breath.
He kisses your neck once and nuzzles his face in further. “Yeah, sweetheart. You were such a good girl for me. So good.”
You close your eyes and smile, because fuck does that feel good.
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sexlapis · 6 months
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Ho! I loooooooveeee your actor toji fics! Is it possible to get added to the taglist? Thank you ~
Also an idea: a bts scene of reader getting sick on set(perhaps even collapsing) due to fatigue and toji taking care of them- I feel like that'd be such a hit ship moment irl :D
thank you for liking my fics <3 you can be added to the tag list 🩵.
and omg yeah i love that idea of reader overworking themselves and toji looking after them :’). and yeah i didn’t make it a behind the scenes clip i made a short fic abt it bc i do not know when to stop.. like give me an idea and i will fly away w it like a bird liek..i don’t even think this is what you asked for srsly…i hope you don’t mind (but i’ll add it to my tojiyn headcanons hehe)
cw: actor toji x actress reader, hurt/comfort, angst to fluff, swearing, petnames (‘kid’, ik people don’t like this one but i think it’s so sweet & so toji :)), collapsing, mentions of skipping meals/not eating, poor sleeping habits, feelings of loneliness & inadequacy, crying, toji taking care of reader, i made this way more angsty than you asked sorry :(
wc: 2k+
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you dragged yourself through the doors of the studio, immediately bombarded by directors, stylists, scrip writers and other cast members on your way to the dressing room, only fuelling your fatigue and stress.
sleep was a foreign concept at this point. five hours at most. so were healthy, filling meals - the last time you ate was yesterday at noon, and for breakfast today all you had was a cup of coffee, not helping your nervous, exhausted state.
admittedly, you were not doing very well. you felt that your acting was subpar and you felt lonely and isolated on set. while everyone went with their friends for a break or lunch, you sat by yourself in your dressing room, your only company being the silence.
sure, toji was also on set too, but he played a very minor role, so he wasn’t always there. and even when he was sometimes, he would hang out with the other crew members, which wasn’t a problem of course, but it did sting a little when he chose them over you.
you just felt so lonely, anxious and quite frankly upset at yourself and the circumstances you find yourself in.
there are a few knocks at your dressing room door and you weakly tell them to come in.
toji peeks is head in. “hey, kid. we start in five..” he takes a look at your weary face, dark eye bags prominent even through the makeup the stylists caked on and the frown on your lips and just knows something is wrong.
“are you ‘right?” he asks quietly, like you’re a deer who’s about to run away at the slightest of sounds.
“yes, i’m fine.” you lie, a voice in the back of your mind wishing he’d just ignore you like everyone else on this damn set does.
“‘you sure? ‘cause you don’t look-”
“i said im fine! just get out.” you snap, heart beating and breathing heavily at your own outburst.
fuck. you didn’t mean to say that.
but toji doesn’t look offended. he just nods and walks away footsteps fading as you put your head in your hands and sob.
so there you are, acting in front of the camera with your colleague in a scene where toji appears in too and you just seem off. everyone assumes it’s just not your day today and they’re not exactly wrong. you lines were slightly forced, tired and you were jittery and clearly apprehensive, like you didn’t even want to be here.
“cut!” the director calls out, more than annoyed with your behaviour. it was the sixth take and you’re really trying to make it believable, but it’s futile.
“this is the sixth take _____. this is ridiculous. get your act together. let’s take five.”
you look down at your shoes, face hot and chest thudding with embarrassment due to the director calling you out in front of everybody. tears well up in your eyes and you sigh, blinking them away as everyone starts talking again, walking away leaving you standing there like an idiot.
it all becomes too much for you. your empty stomach, oncoming headache, exhausted body, dry mouth, furrowed eyebrows, sweaty palms-
you let your script fall out of your hand as you stumble off the green screen, trying to get to your room before a hand is grabbing your arm. you turn around and it’s toji again.
“hey..” he leans down slightly to your height, scanning you over once. “you don’t look so good, _____-”
you shrug him off, vision becoming blurred with black static and limbs heavy and shaky. “i-i jus’ need to go. to my..uhm-” you stop, rubbing a hand down your face harshly. “i just-”
and then there is black.
౨ৎ
you come to and realise that you are laying on your dressing room couch, staring up at the ceiling. reaching up, you feel a wet, cool cloth on your head. you take it off. still fuzzy and body essentially lethargic, you try to sit up.
“hey, hey, hey.” toji whispers.
oh, toji’s here.
“take it easy.” he helps you sit up on the arm of the couch. he hands you a bottle of water and you drink it like a god.
“wait, what happened?” you ask, still confused and disoriented.
“you fuckin’ fainted that’s what,” he states bluntly. “scared the fuckin’ dogshit outta me.”
“oh.”
toji sits beside you on a chair, looking at you closely. you look down.
“the med team checked you out.” he tells you. “said you fainted, collapsed-whatever the fuck. ‘cos of stress and exhaustion. they even checked your blood sugar and said it was low as fuck.” he pauses. “not dangerously low,” he adds at the sight of your worried expression, “but.. low enough.”
you sigh, falling back on the couch. you think back to how the director shouted at you, how annoyed he was, and how humiliated you felt. tears start to form again and you cover your face with your hands, not wanting to cry in front of toji. you felt like you’ve had enough embarrassment for today.
toji leans forward. “what’s happening with you?”
the way he said it, so soft and concerned, makes the tears fall down and cause sobs to escape your mouth, hiccuped breaths falling from your mouth.
“hey, hey, hey..” toji coos. he reaches to you and makes you sit up again so he can take you into his arms. you let him, sobbing into his shoulder and sucking up all the comfort he gives you. toji’s big hand strokes your hair and the other caresses your back softly.
“shh, sh, sh…” he calms you down a little, you sobs turning into sniffles. he leans back and gives you space but his hands stay planted on your back. “tell toji what’s wrong.”
you hum sadly, looking down and gulping. “i’m..i’m tired. i wanna sleep..”
toji waits for you to continue. he can see you want to say more so he doesn’t hurry you along, he just rubs your back and nods to let you know you’re listening.
“i..” you take a breath, “i dunno what to do..i can’t do this fucking role.. i’m fucking tired half the fucking day and my so called colleagues don’t even like me!” you try to calm yourself down, taking another shaky breath. “and i just feel..lonely all the time..” you cry out the last few words, feeling another sob session coming up and toji pulls you close, letting you ruin his shirt with your tears as he rocks you back and forth in his arms.
“it’s okay, it’s okay..” he coos, resting his face in your hair.
you both stay like that for a few moments, you weeps dying down before toji talks.
“you can play this part, _____. ‘you have any idea how good your are, huh? you can act circles around half ‘these guys.”
you scoff, pulling your lips together. “i dunno about that..”
“‘m serious. _____, you can act, okay? ‘wouldn’t have made it this far if you couldn’t.”
“yeah but..this one’s hard..” you sigh, voice cracking but toji doesn’t let you start again.
“yeah, acting’s hard. but i can help you,” toji cups your wet face with his hands, wiping the tear streaks that paint you face, “we can all help you. the crew, your friends, that bitchass director. i’ll put a gun to everyone’s head to make them fuckin’ help you with this.”
you giggle at his seriousness and he huffs, relieved that you’re relaxing a little.
“they don’t hate you, y’know. everybody on set. the cast. they just think you’re a little shy and quiet. they don’t hate you, okay?” toji reassures you. you nod absentmindedly and he shakes your head from side to side to make you pay attention, making you smile, eyes crinkling even though they’re still tear stricken. “there she is..who the fuck could hate you, huh?”
“ugh, toji.” you roll your eyes, sniffling and rubbing your face. you pull away from him. “ugh..i just want my bed right now.”
“yeah..i know it ain’t my place but told the director that you’re taking a few days off. you need a break, kid.”
you didn’t even argue with him. you couldn’t.
“yeah, i do.” you agree.
suddenly, a loud rumble from your stomach erupts, it was like an earthquake.
toji laughs. “someone’s hungry.”
you groan. “‘m starving. haven’t eaten since yesterday.”
“we’re getting you something to eat.” he states, leaving no room for objections.
toji stands, holding his hand out for you to take. you do, his large, calloused hand dwarfing yours as he helps you stand up. “can you walk?”
“i will if there’s food involved.”
“that’s good.” toji chuckles, “how’s takeout sound?”
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a/n: had to write a whole fic abt this i apologise 🥸 will add the tag list later i just keep forgetting the users </3
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liesmyth · 1 month
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@moscca you're right and you should say it! Here's a really great compilation of Taz quotes I've been keeping in mind
From an interview where she says that Lovecraft was one of her main inspirations, talks about her relationship with horror vs. sff as a genre author, and wanting to find relatable heroines in horror lit.
I didn’t write Gideon the Ninth for the characters—I wrote it entirely for the structure. I wanted to tell a very specific story, and I needed everything to serve that story.
I want people to realise there are no boundaries. I also want to release people from having to take their universe entirely seriously, if they don’t want to. Science fiction and fantasy reflects ourselves, our anxieties, our joys. I’m just writing to amuse myself, as per usual.
I am writing for my younger self and it would be disgusting of me to try to teach her anything.
(& other quotes from that same interview)
Although love and forgiveness aren’t necessarily the same thing either, Gideon’s frankly divine ability to forgive is a huge core of the novel. [...] Forgiveness is almost the electrical current being able to transmit through love.
The way I personally stay true to the story I started down on is to give myself permission to not teach anyone anything. [...] I know that a lot of people do take enormous pleasure and relief in lines or phrases or ideas from stories that ring true to their own lives, but it’s important for me that I tell a story and that I’m not writing Chicken Soup for the Necromantic Soul.
...the God of the Locked Tomb IS a man; he IS the Father and the Teacher; it’s an inherently masc role played by someone who has an uneasy relationship himself to playing a Biblical patriarch. John falls back on hierarchies and roles because they’re familiar even when he’s struggling not to. But the divine in the Locked Tomb is essentially feminine on multiple axes.
It seems to me that most books by anyone female-adjacent have an expectation that they will comfort the uncomfortable and discomfit the comfortable etc., whereas a guy can just tell an adventure story and be done with it. This ties in with an idea that I think nowadays that good art is moral and bad art is immoral: i.e. if a story is good it must somehow be beautiful on the moral scale. We go looking for why the art we love is moral even if the art we love is a donut.
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absolutebl · 2 months
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These Weeks in BL - This Is Very Late, Or Right on Time depending on where you sit on the temporal debate team
Sorry I got distracted by work. In my defense: I was paid.
Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top.
March 2024 Wk 1 & 2
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Ongoing Series - Thai
Cherry Magic (Sat YouTube grey) ep 12 fin - Unfortunately, there was singing. But what can we do?
A soft charming warm hug of a show about crushes and mind reading and self worth, with no-fuss execution from a consummate team and an OG lead pair proving why they remain eternal and deserve to grow up. Look, here’s the thing, Cherry Magic is a great Thai BL in its own right not comparing it to any other iteration. But even when I do compare (and I've seen all the Cherries and read the manga) it still stands. This is a great show, a solid adaptation, and a pleasing take on the original yaoi. I personally like it better than the Japanese live action, but I think that’s because I just really like Thai BL and I LOVE TayNew. I doubted them for this and I shouldn’t have. They did a great job, as did the sides. I will say all the kissing was both present and better than any other iteration. As it should be. Definitely one for the rewatch rotation. 9/10 
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Deep Night (Thurs iQiyi) ep 1 of 8 (10?) - Damn it, I love it. And I don't want to. It’s more classic BL than I thought it would be, and far less Only Friends or Playboyy. (Thank fuck.) We got a big cast and a lot of tropes going down out the gate, including SMITTEN popular hot guy versus nerd with secret identity. (Incidentally, Khem did drop into rude / informal when arguing with his Aunt and defending his ma. Bratty boy.) The leads have good chemistry (First always does), and everyone is very pretty. The main boy reminds me of J-Min's role (and look) in Love Class 2. I am entertained. (And faintly wonder why this isn't a MosBank vehicle.)
To Be Continued (Thai C3 Thailand grey) eps 1-3 of 8- High school sweethearts who had a bad break up reunite a decade later when both of them have full time jobs (celebrity & doctor). Dr Ji is a familiar face (hi Dream it's been a LONG time) and everyone is way too old for high school, but I guess I prefer this to child actors?
I'm enjoying it, actually, the cast may be older but they're solid as a result and the chemistry is on point for a pulp. Whether our celebrity is on the DL or cheating or something else remains to be seen but he sure is smitten. The way he LOOKS at Ji = hawt.
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Frankly? Celebrity/doctor is a good pairing and this is a solid Thai BL. I hope we have a nice angsty reason for the break-up and we're not in another Promise situation. I like the sides too. Carry on, little show, I'm disposed to be pleased with you.
City of Stars (Fri iQIYI) eps 5-6 of 12 - I am enjoying it, actually. It’s incredibly silly. But I don’t really mind. STOP SINGING. 
1000 Years Old eps 3-4 of 12 - I love that these kids basically adopted a vampire pet. And one of them accidentally got a vampire boyfriend. This suddenly turned from a PNR into a family drama about domestic gays opening a food stall and I'm not mad about it. Nothing makes sense and I don't care because... rainbow umbrella!
A Secretly Love (Thai WeTV grey) eps 1 of 10 - I don’t love it. I make no bones about the fact that a pining uke rarely works for me, especially if he’s younger (cute supportive besties not withstanding), the power dynamic isn’t good. I always like Kimmon, he’s a stiff actor but v pretty. (I shallow af.) Still it’s time he started acting his age… literally. Having to watch ads again as well… for this? Ooof. I'm not sure I'm strong enough.
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Ongoing Series - Not Thai
Perfect Propose (Japan Fri Gaga) ep 6 fin - It was very cute. I liked that there was uke instigated kisses. However I have some reservations on this one, much as I enjoyed it.
Adapted from Mayo Tsurakame’s manga, production team included Tadaaki Horai (My Love Mix-Up!) and Takeshi Miyamoto (Old Fashion Cupcake). Essentially Perfect Propose was about finding hope in a person when all other hope is gone. This show focuses on apathy, and perforce is somewhat apathetic and un-engaging especially as the pacing was off (and with only 6 episodes? now) However, this is countered by great visuals, good archetypes, and a clean story of childhood sweethearts reuniting after loosing their way in life. I landed on 8/10 mostly for a demanding younger seme and some great kisses. 
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Unknown (Taiwan Tues Youku YouTube) eps 2-3 of 11 - Oh it’s great. I love it. I’m still worried by how gritty and "Taiwanese short-esk" it feels, but wow does this hit all my favorite taboo tropes and buttons. I also adore the little found fam, they the cutest gay older bros ever. The younger one who wants so bad to grow up and take care of the older one and pushes himself because into self sacrifice that’s the only model of love he has. ARGH. BOYS. Why so much pain, just smooch already! Sheesh. It's on YouTube for some of us, here's the schedule.
AntiReset (Taiwan Fri Viki/Gaga) eps 6-7 of 10 - They remain questionably cute, and that is probably going to be my ultimate review of this show. Awe cameo! (Hi babies, hope the ghosts are leaving you alone.) The irony does not escape me that the person in the relationship with the most emotional acumen is, in fact, the robot and not the human. I'm sure that's meant to be deep.
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Love is Better the Second Time Around AKA Koi wo Suru nara Nidome ga Joto (Japan Gaga) ep 1 of 6 - A tortured second chance romance featuring a reported and a successful celebrity(?) academic. The kid actors look nothing like their adult counterparts, but they do look much younger. So, okay. Ah the utter embarrassment of first love. Oh I like it a lot, so very messy Japanese emo. Sigh. Here we go again.
Although I Love You and You AKA Sukiyanen Kedo Do Yaro ka (Japan Thurs Gaga) eps 8-9 of 10 - They are a cute couple. They both trying so hard and so confused and awkward and polite in trying to understand each other but TERRIBLE at communication. 
My Strawberry Film (Japan Thurs Gaga) eps 3-4 of 8 - I don’t know how I feel about this. But I do know it’s not my thing because it’s not BL. I’ll finish it because it’s short but… meh. 
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It's done, ready to binge, but I have no time
What Did You Eat Yesterday Season 2 AKA Kinou Nani Tabeta? Season 2 (Japan Gaga) 10 eps - will binge when I have any spare time. 2024 is crazy busy for me so far.
The Servant and the Young Master (Vietnam YouTube) - I will try when I have a window of time.
Began Beginning (Myanmar YouTube) - A Burmese BL? @heretherebedork vouched for it, so I will watch eventually.
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It's airing but...
Dead Friend Forever (Thai iQIYI) - finished it's run and I won't be watching it. It's horror with BL elements and the ending, well, let's just say that's a "no thank you" from me.
Ossans Love Season 2 (Japan Gaga) - 5 years later, will anything have changed? This is Japan so… no. I'm not watching this. I dislike this franchise.
Time the series (Tue Gaga/YT) 10 eps - dropped it at ep 4.
Takumi-kun (2023) movie version AKA Takumi-kun Series 6: Nagai Nagai Monogatari no Hajimari no Asa released on FOD 3/5/2024. The original project was a 6 ep series. Having seen all the previous iterations and read the (terrible) yaoi I admit to being intrigued. If anyone finds eng subbed please let me know with a link in comments or in a DM? For those intersted in this show, probably the world's first true BL franchise I chat all about it here.
Gossip
James Supamongkon has withdrawn from the series Love Upon A Time and the NetJames pair is no more. Net Siraphop will continue with the historical BL project alongside a new partner. Can I interest you in Tod Techit... almost as pretty, legs for days...
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The Complete Chronology of the Assault Case Against GMMTV Actor Win Pawin
I'm merely directing your attention to these articles, I do not wish for discussion of this content on this blog. Please don't ask for further info, I don't know the answer, follow the link that's why it's there.
Next Week Looks Like This:
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Still Coming
3/21 Two Worlds (Thai IQIYI) 10 eps - announced here. One of those "he's dead Jim so time travel" thingames staring MaxNat. I'm over them but Asia flipping loves this trope and I do adore MaxNat. Phupha (Gun) and Khram (Nat) love each other but Phupha is murdered. Then Khram is pulled to a parallel world where, 12 years ago, Khram and Tai (Max) were in love. However, Khram was killed by Thai’s dad. Now Tai finds alter-Khram apparently alive. But then there is ALSO an alter-Phupha (played by Gun Thanawat who is Khom the repressed butler bodyguard from Unforgotten Night).
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Upcoming BLs for 2024 are listed here. This list is not kept updated, so please leave a comment if you know something new or RP with additions.
THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS
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How flipping adorable is this vampire with his big gay umbrella? SUCH A DORK and we got more vampire dorks coming.
Thailand has found its vampire line and it's awkward and geeky and quite cheerful. 'Bout what we expected, to be fair. It's a good look for them.
And vampires.
In other news...
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That's your random moment of thirst, Lim Jimin shirtless AKA my Just B bias (I mean, I could talk about how good his extensions are and how I love a husky voice in Kpop but really, just LOOK at him). I'm very very very shallow, remember? Full vid is here.
Why am I mentioning Lim Jimin (aside from the obvious)? If Just B doesn't break soon, I could some of them transitioning to BL. Jimin in particular would be a win for us, obvs.
Also, can we talk about Bain (my bias wrecker) KILLING it on Build Up? I had no idea he was that good. Anygay, this has been your Kpop end note.
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Seriously tho, is ANYONE else watching Build-Up?
(Last week - well, 2 weeks ago)
Streaming services are listed how I'm (usually watching) which is with a USA based IP
The tag bragade: @doorajar
If ya wanna be tagged each week leave a comment and I will. Easy peesy.
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Sukuna’s Wife and Yuuji’s Onee-chan (Sukuna x Reincarnated!Y/N) au headcanons
Other snippets of this au
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Yuuji’s Onee-chan Random HCs
You never worried about Yuuji’s social life, because he was like the sun, the type of guy to attract all sorts of people. He was kind and polite and defended others from injustice. However, you were never attached to any of the friends he hung out with from kindergarten to high school; not until you met Megumi and Nobara. 
You would get along with Megumi, who has a soft spot for older sister types because of his own sister. He respects your opinion a lot and you love how he protected Yuuji. 
Nobara took a liking to you instantly. Much like Megumi, she sees you as an older sister and often goes to you for advice or just to rant. She looks up to you as a role model, but secretly in your heart, you wanted to tell her that she shouldn’t emulate you, because while she and the others were selfless and would sacrifice their lives for the greater good, you were the opposite. You would sacrifice everybody else for your baby brother.
You owe a debt of gratitude to Satoru Gojo. He shielded Yuuji from harm and provided you two with a safe haven. That being said, you didn’t like him. You didn’t doubt his compassion, but he seemed duplicitous, not to mention it bothered you how a grown man insisted on treating minors as his friends.*
You despised Ryomen Sukuna. If not for him, Yuuji wouldn’t be on death row. He claims that he is your husband, but you don’t even know what he looks like–when you “saw” him, he overtook Yuuji and marred his skin with black tattoos,** a sickening grin in place of a sweet smile. You will never forget it. You will never forgive him.
…So you thought, but ever since Yuuji’s possession, you began having odd dreams of old Japan, filled with scenes in a manor so large and grand it reminded you of imperial palaces in period pieces. Sometimes you’d be outside. Bright red maple leaves fell like snow around you, the mild, woody scent of cypress was ever present. Sometimes you'd see a familiar childlike silhouette that morphed into a kitten.
Regardless of where you were, a faceless man was always there, towering above you.
With the reveal of sorcery and curses, you suspected that these dreams were not mere dreams…
[1] Canonically, we know that there is more to Gojo than this, and you have no idea about the despicable things I’d let him do to me–but I’m writing these based on what Yuuji’s protective big sister would think. Frankly, as someone with younger underage siblings, I would be worried too if their adult teacher spent their free time hanging out with them. 
[2] I believe that in-universe, the characters can’t tell when Sukuna is the one actively using the body of his host and that the shift in visuals is just for the benefit of the audience. However, Y/N here sees the changes: tattoos, four eyes, etc.
@shadowywizardarcade @hannya-exists @nineooooo @lilachaeyo @pumpkindudeishere @jessbeinme15 @fluffy-koalala @cringeycookies @frogzxch @isimpfordanielpark @marvelsgirl4ever @sanzusmom @sheccidoscar @marvelsgirl4ever
A/N: Sorry for the late update. Been busy. Decided to write this while waiting for my resin to refill.
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womenaremypriority · 6 months
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What is gender?
Instead of asking “what is a woman?” I propose we should ask more what gender is.  The transgender movement is, fundamentally about placing gender above sex, in language and law- although claiming sex is a spectrum or a complete construction is becoming more common.  ‘Woman’ and ‘man’ aren’t sex terms, they’re genders, sexual attraction is based on gender, not sex, and public planning should be based on gender.  So, what is it?  
The roots of the word gender came from Latin, and originally meant ‘category, group.’  It has etymological roots with the word genre, and this is partly why we have the term grammatical gender in many languages.  Gender became a synonym for biological sex hundreds of years ago, and is used partly as a more family friendly alternative.  As a separate entity, however, gender refers to the social roles of male and female.
Here are a few definitions and helpful information:
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Let’s look at the specifics of the different interpretations of the word ‘gender’.
Gender roles: Self explanatory. What feminists are against. What transgender activists claim to be against, and what they claim is not the basis for transgender identity. This seems to be the most clear and understandable definition, to me, anyway.
Gender identity: An internal sense of gender. This has been claimed to exist, but how this could possibly present or feel has not been in anyway demonstrated. Studies have shown transgender people have the brains of the gender they identify as, but those studies are shoddy and flawed. Brain scans aren’t required to transition, these studies don’t account for nonbinary-identified people, and the brain sex argument has fallen out of favor- so, we’ll say that’s not what’s being discussed here. So, what is? What is this internal gender identity? Can we find it? How do we know everyone has it? And why should it be prioritized over birth sex? What’s being described is, frankly, unverifiable and flimsy. Not to mention quite useless. This doesn’t mean I think that people who claim to have this feeling are lying- they could have something that is interpreted as gender, but that doesn’t mean it’s experienced by the general population, and this feeling could be caused by any number of areas. If this feeling is, indeed, dysphoria at being referred to a certain way, and/or euphoria at being referred to a certain way, again, how can we know this is a symptom of some deep held identity, or a sign of something different? How can we verify this, and while I understand personally adapting language to accommodate someone in your life, why should this take priority over sex for the general population? Gender expression- How is this different than sex stereotypes, and gender roles? While I’m told that this doesn’t need to match general societal expectations, how does that actually work? If you’ve expressing your gender- whether that’s man, woman, or some form of nonbinary- even if you know anyone can dress how they want, even if you say ‘feminine’ or ‘masculine’ means something different to everyone, you are still making a connection between gender and how one looks- and according to the Miriam-Webster photo, acts. Not only is this, again, ridiculous to elevate this above sex in language and law, it’s unhealthy to hyper focus on how others see you, not to mention confusing and harmful message to constantly use the terms ‘gender identity’ and ‘gender expression’ together. I’ll be honest, even if transgender people claim the movement isn’t about stereotypes, I don’t believe that’s the case. At the very least, it’s not the message every one of them got. Conflating gender with sex, and the words ‘men’ and ‘women’ with personality, a feeling, clothes, vibes, interests, or an aesthetic, is a dangerous and ridiculous concept. Instead of what it’s claiming to do- breaking the gender binary- it’s putting men and women in a box, yourself. You are the one limiting what men and women can be. Even if everyone decided to identify as some form of nonbinary, this would not affect the reality of sexism and the perceived inferiority of 50% of the population- it would only paint a coat over it. It would make communication and activism impossible. By conflating experience of autism, or interest in space, or interest in a certain style of dress- with the terms man and woman, you are perpetuating stereotypes, not breaking them.
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chelseeebe · 7 months
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gasoline.
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so this was supposed to be like a the bear au and then i just got carried away and now it’s just whatever the hell this is lmao it’s been sitting in my docs since july and i thought it finally needed to see the light of day :)
this is two parts in one bc i hate doing two seperate parts but it’s highlighted where p1 ends and p2 begins
wc: 12k+ oops
‎♡‧₊˚
Look, the sleazy, deteriorating walls of Frank’s had never been his idea of a dream. But flunking high school and a failed band had meant limited this is where he’d ended up. Running the line at the frankly failing restaurant was more like his idea of hell but it paid the bills and with a solid team of other degenerates, meant that it wasn’t all that bad. 
Well, that was until the devil incarnate came along. And by devil incarnate he means you. 
Eddie couldn’t grasp why someone of your stature would ever take a job at such a shitty restaurant, with your fancy knives and kitchen lingo that really meant nothing to him, why wouldn’t you look for something else? Something better?
You’d ended up here because… well, despite going to culinary school, getting the big job after you had graduated and doing everything by the book so to speak, you’d missed that burning passion that could only be found in the shittiest, dirtiest kitchens. 
Well that, and the fact you’d been let go. But that wasn’t relevant. 
“Honey, I’ve been here for years, I really don’t give a shit about anything you’ve gotta say,” flapping his arms around at your suggestion of maybe washing his hands when he got back in from smoking, “Helen never had a problem with it, so why do you?”
“First off, I have asked you not to call me honey or whatever other stupid pet name you wanna give me… it’s chef,” brows furrowed, the rest of the kitchen pretending not to listen to your latest bickering, “and secondly, Helen is gone, so whatever rules she implemented mean nothing now, okay? You wash your hands when you come back in or… or…” struggling to come up with a suitable punishment. 
“Or.. or what?” he mocks, turning to his colleagues for a little backup, “you gonna fire me? ‘Cause I’d love to see you try,” refusing to back down. 
It was the principle, you see. Eddie really would’ve had no issue with washing his hands if literally anyone other than you had asked. He was positively fuming that you had just flounced in here and started laying down a bunch of bullshit rules that no other soul had cared about in his five years working here. Not only that, you’d beaten him to the head chef role. He was certain that he was a shoe in the second Helen announced that she was moving on. Only to walk in one morning to your grinning face, your uniform crisply ironed and this certain energy only Eddie had seemed to sense.
You sigh, you never liked to be the first one to resign after an argument but Eddie was relentless and would’ve kept at it all day if you didn’t, “Just wash your hands.. chef,” it was entirely too busy to spend all day going back and forth with the man child. 
“Say please and I’ll think about it,” he’s smirking now, knowing he’s got you exactly where he wanted you. 
“Please,” you frown, hand firmly on your hip as you stare back at him. You felt pathetic begging for the tiniest bit of respect in your damn kitchen but it was simply the only way to get him to cooperate. 
“See, that wasn’t so hard was it?” he goads, brushing against your shoulder as he makes his way to the sink, the rest of the kitchen is in complete silence, watching and waiting to see how this one would end. 
You readjust your collar, pressing your lips together in a firm line, choosing to ignore his childish remark. There would come a day that he’d regret every horrid thing he’d said to you and maybe that day wasn’t today but it would come and you could not wait. 
-
It’s another month of butting heads with the long-haired prick before things come totally to a head. His inability to just follow simple orders had you at wits end, because Eddie truly believed that he knew better. A suggestion to add thyme to the mash potatoes had caused all out war in the kitchen. 
“No, we add rosemary… not fuckin’ thyme,” he spits, aggressively stiring the pot, his back to you, guarding his precious dish from your grabby hands.
“And I’m saying to add both- actually no, I’m not saying, I’m telling,” grabbing the container of thyme and attempting to sprinkle it into the pan, “move out of the way, that’s an order.” 
“Oooo,” he mocks, knuckles turning white from his grip on the handle, “An order.. I’m so scared,” chuckling as he blocks you from reaching over his shoulder, “why d’you think you know better, huh? You don’t know shit about this restaurant, we’ve done it my way for years and that’s not gonna change now.” 
“Because I’m the fucking chef and I know better than you,” finally snapping at the man, slamming the container down onto the stainless steel countertop, “move. now,” you bark, widening your eyes as he twists around to meet yours, you could feel the disgust radiating from his glare. 
“No.” 
You huff, wanting nothing more than to wrap his fucking ponytail around your hand and slam his head into the worktop, “Step out chef,” a simple order that you thought was far more gracious than he deserved.
His mouth falls open, still gripping onto the now-overworked potatoes, “What the fuck?” frantically flailing for some comradery from his fellow workers, it seemed that they’d all fallen into place, no longer the bunch of grimy assholes he once knew. 
“Step out,” you persist, teeth gritted as you stand strong on your order, tilting your chin to meet his harrowing gaze. Eddie didn’t frighten you per say, but he was intimidating and if it came down to it, you probably weren’t going to be the one to win that fight. 
“Fuck this,” he exclaims, slamming the pan down onto the stove top with a loud bang before storming off out of the fire escape door, not before grabbing his cigarettes from the shelf you’d repeatedly told him not to keep them on. 
There’s now mash potato all over the hob that would probably need some extensive scrubbing and would ensure that your kitchen would absolutely reek of the stuff all night. If you could have it your way, you’d have made him scrub the entire oven with a dang toothbrush until you could see your face in the metal. 
You squeeze your eyes shut, feeling your cheeks burn as the rest of the kitchen watches on in utter amazement, even the old, hardened chefs had taken to your ways even if it had taken a little bit of pushing. There was no understanding as to why he couldn’t just listen, just shut up and get on with his job without trying to constantly argue and bite back. Maybe because you were a woman? You were younger than him? Or maybe it was simply because someone was finally up to the job of challenging him and he hated that fact. 
Whatever it was, it was getting on your last nerve. 
Eddie wasn’t by any means a bad chef, he was innovative and knew how to make shit taste good, he was just incapable of accepting that maybe his way of doing things wasn’t the only way. 
You smooth your clammy palms down your apron, nodding at Tina. A subtle way of telling her to carry on and take charge while you dealt with the pathetic man outside. 
The door slams as you step outside, looking around the dark alley for the man, following the trail of smoke to his slouched position around the corner. Now, this was the difficult part, you weren’t really looking to fire him but what choice did you have if he couldn’t just accept that you were his boss now. 
“Have you calmed down?” breaking the silence, fingernails pressed into your palm leaving tiny crescent moon indentations. 
You never were one for confrontation. 
He scoffs, refusing to look in your direction as he puffs on the cigarette, “I’m calm.. are you calm?”
Even now, he couldn’t just smile and nod, always had to say something else, “I’m calm,” swallowing the saliva that had gathered in your mouth, “do you want to work here?”  
“Nobody wants to work here, shit- even you don’t wanna be here,” chuckling to himself, smoke falling from his lips. 
“Yes I do. Do you? Because I can help you if you don’t, trust me I am not scared to just let you go.” 
He chews on the inside of his cheek, tossing the cigarette to the ground before finally meeting your gaze, “you’re firing me?” 
“No,” relaxing your shoulders, “but I need to know that you want to work here. That you aren’t going to keep arguing with me about stupid shit because I truly do not have the energy for it anymore,” watching as his expression falls, at a stretch you’d say he looks remorseful but that could very well just be the moonlight reflecting on his face, granting him more grace than he deserved. 
The alley falls into silence, the only sounds being that of the bustling city around you and Tina’s faint voice barking instructions inside the kitchen. 
His eyes avert to the concrete, with a pained expression he breaks the silence, “I do… wanna work here,” it’s like that tiny sentence caused him physical pain to get out. 
“Good,” you nod, his words may mean nothing but it’s a relief to finally hear that he gives somewhat of a shit about this place running smoothly, “Eddie, for what it’s worth, I think you’re a really good chef… but even the best chefs have to take orders sometimes and you are no exception to that.”
Eddie untenses his jaw for what must be the first time in ten years, that tiny bit of affirmation was exactly what he was looking for, “...thank you,” he turns his head towards yours, “I think you’re… you’re an okay chef,” the tiniest traces of a smile on his face as he pushes himself from the rough brick.
Your eyes roll instinctively but you’re not mad, for once, “get back inside,” waving him off towards the door without turning to look at him. 
Taking the moment to gather yourself and your thoughts. Who knew if Eddie had meant what he said or if it was even going to change anything but it had definitely meant something. It wasn’t a burning desire of yours to come in and be the new evil boss in fact, it was the very opposite of what you’d pictured. There just wasn’t much lee-way when you were given a team of stubborn assholes that had gotten far too used to slacking off. 
Frank’s could really become something if everyone wanted it and were willing to put in the effort required to get there. Sure, you probably weren’t going to earn a Michelin star but you were sure you could make it worthy of something. 
-
Eddie had mostly kept to his word. Finally washing his hands and keeping his hair out of his face, even if you had had to nag at him a little. There wasn’t as much kick back as before. Sure, he’d roll his eyes and huff and puff but he’d actually do it. 
It’s another Saturday night, you’re not so busy but enough to keep you on your toes. Just longing for the moment you collapsed into your bed and didn’t have to think about this place until Monday morning. 
Eddie sidles up to where you’re working, going over the rota for the next two weeks. Weighing up if waking up at the ass crack of dawn was actually worth all this. 
“So I was thinking..” 
“Uh oh,” you add, snapping the book shut before turning to him, he’s hopeful. Well, that or he’s about to say the dumbest thing you’ve ever heard. 
“Yeah great thanks.. so I was thinking, it’s getting warmer, right? I think we should put sandwiches on the menu, and not just boring old sandwiches.. like, like good ones,” his vocabulary is limited but you get what he means. 
You ponder for a moment, staring into his wide, optimistic eyes. It was a good idea to be fair to him, you just weren’t sure if you had the time to conjure up a whole new sandwich menu on top of everything else on your plate. 
“Okay, I actually think that’s a great idea,” you two were civil, not exactly the best buds but you think maybe now you could trust him. “If you can come up with some ideas and make them for me.. I’ll think about it.” 
His grin is infectious as it spreads across his face, “I got you… what are you thinking? Something with chicken or..” fishing for ideas. 
You throw your hands up, a shadow of a smile on your lips, “that is entirely up to you, okay?” 
He nods knowingly, slowly backing away, eager to get started on his first individual project since your arrival. 
“I’m trusting you with this!” you holler after him, getting back to the mess of a rota in front of you. 
“Yes boss,” he calls back from somewhere in the kitchen, “I mean chef,” catching himself. 
Your heart warms a little. Maybe your lectures hadn’t gone so unnoticed after all? 
-
No matter how hard you stare at the screen, willing for something to magically appear, it doesn’t. The line marker blinking at you, taunting you, pleading with you to just write something. Anything!
There’s a quiet wrapping of knuckles against the door causing your head to fly up, finding a surprisingly clean Eddie standing in the doorway.
“Hi,” spinning your chair slightly, “shit, sorry I forgot to say you’re good to go, I’ll see you tomorrow,” flashing him a tight lipped smile. 
“Oh no… most of ‘em have already gone,” vaguely motioning to the now empty kitchen, “uh… a few of us were gonna grab a drink and wondered if you’d wanna join us?” He resembles a shy child, fingers tapping along the battered door frame. 
“Oh!” you must’ve sounded shocked as his eyebrows travel up his forehead in surprise, getting invited out by your crew had just.. never really happened before, “I’m sorry, I actually can’t tonight,” pointing at the blank word document, “the menu is due next week and I uh- I have nothing but you guys have fun,” shooing him off. 
It was a Thursday night and you couldn’t think of anything worse than waking up tomorrow with a blinding hangover. 
“You need help with that menu shit? I mean, my sandwiches are a hit so.. maybe I could help?” placing his jacket on the old cabinet in the corner, prepared to help no matter what you replied. 
You’re not exactly in the position to say no to help at this point.. 
“I mean.. yeah, if you can think of six amazing, brilliant, showstopping new dishes then be my guest because I sure as shit can’t,” unintentionally coming off a little rude. 
It’s just frustrating, the first big step you were taking for this restaurant and you were still somehow managing to fuck it up
“Okay, what’ve you got?” he peers over your shoulder at the blank screen, “ah, right,” he sucks his teeth, “not great.” 
“No.. no it’s not,” slouching down the chair, “I’m completely fucked,” pushing the loose strands of hair from your forehead. 
“You’re not completely fucked- not yet,” dragging the spare chair around to the other side of the desk, “I’m sure we can think of something tonight,” pulling the laptop closer to him. 
You smile at him, grateful for his positivity even if it was fake. 
The pair of you throw some shoddy ideas back and forth for a half hour. None of them good enough to make it to the word document, instead getting scribbled onto a ripped out page from your notebook. 
“I am fucked, aren’t I?” you frown, rubbing your sleepy eyes. 
He chuckles softly, “nah.. there’s some good stuff here,” running his finger down the messy list. 
You feel completely vulnerable with him here, it might have been the lack of sleep or just the fact that you appreciated his presence so much but you foolishly begin to let your thoughts wander. 
“I just feel like I’m fuu-,” immediately regretting opening your mouth, “no, you know what? Doesn’t matter,” you look at the clock on the wall signalling that it had gone well past midnight, “you should get going, it’s late,” pretending to scroll on the still-bare document. 
“No, what were you gonna say?” 
You keep your eyes on the screen, tapping your foot against the leg of the chair, “I said it doesn’t matter.” 
“It obviously does,” he pushes, egging you on. 
You take a sharp intake of breath to signal that you weren’t willing to go any further with this. Why couldn’t he just fucking drop it?
“Oh my God, you started this conversation and now you don’t wanna finish it,” frustrated that it had seemed like you were finally beginning to seem like you were somewhat human, he grabs his discarded jacket, rolling his eyes as he starts to exit the office. 
“I’m scared I’m not doing a good job… you all obviously care about this place and I’ve just come in here and ruined it,” biting down onto your bottom lip, “and as much as you all pretend to like me, I know you don’t and- and that’s fine,” you shrug, exasperated with the weight of a thousand bricks hanging onto your shoulders, “I don’t care about being liked, I just want this restaurant to work but it feels like I can’t even do that,” slumping forward, confounded and slightly in shock that the first person you’d spilled all of this to was fucking Eddie.
“I do like you,” he says quietly, stopping in his tracks, throwing his jacket back down, “everyone does… you’re making this restaurant better,” rejoining you at the desk, “we’re all just stubborn and mean so no one’s told you but you’re doing good,” a reassuring smile overcoming his lips, his hand wavers, unsure of whether to reach out to touch your shoulder or if that was a step too far. 
He flops back into the chair and you offer him a genuine smile for his words. It was really all you could muster without starting to cry. Coming into an already established restaurant with new ideas and ways of working was never easy but to be met with such pushback from him had made it even harder. So to now have him say in front of you, telling you that what you’re doing is right, well it meant the world. 
“Thank you,” you mouth, blinking earnestly as you flip the laptop lid shut, it was too late and you were far too tired to even try to continue. “That really means a lot from you,” attempting to turn your vulnerability into a joke. 
“I mean it, though,”scooting closer on the chair, “I just enjoy arguing with you too much to admit it.” 
You roll your eyes playfully, that much was true, he definitely enjoyed getting under your hair and pissing you off as much as he could. 
“We should go, it’s super late and I’ve got all day tomorrow to do this,” sliding the pen into the pot, feeling his eyes still boring into the side of your face. 
You stand from your seat, expecting him to follow but he stays firmly planted in his chair. Hand reaching out to grab your wrist as you grab your bag. Jolting away as you’re not expecting the sudden contact. 
He swallows, standing up before deciding whether to just fuck it or if this was about to get him fired. You’re blissfully unaware that this internal battle was even happening until his hand is on your cheek, tilting your chin upwards before closing the distance between your bodies, smashing his lips to yours. 
Oh shit. 
It takes a second for your brain to process what was happening but you don’t.. dislike it. He tastes like cigarettes and coffee, sliding his tongue into your parted mouth with a quickness. 
Leaning into the kiss, your hands hesitantly coming to rest on his shoulders. You’re taken aback by how easy it feels, moving together just right. The small of your back crashes into the rigid desk, pulling you out of the kiss and back into reality. Staring back at his darkened eyes with a slight bemused expression. 
“No.. not here,” squeezing his shoulder. His hand paused on your shirt button, getting ahead of himself. Maybe you had found yourself wanting to fuck Eddie but not here. You weren’t that stupid. 
His hand falls, swinging to his side, “oh.. you didn’t- did I fuck up?” still mere inches from your face, so close in fact, you could feel his breath on your flushed cheek. 
“No.. no, I just..” deciding to just bite the bullet and go for it, “do you wanna go back to my apartment? It’s not far,” blinded by the haze of lust that was filling the small room to the brim. 
His eyes grow wide, realising exactly what you meant, buzzing with impatience and excitement. “Yes.. yeah I’d love to,” his plump lips still wet with the remnants of your mouth. 
You nod, letting go of his shoulder to gather your things, and yourself, before pulling him out of the restaurant. Eddie is more than willing to leave his van in the parking lot, jumping into your car with an primal eagerness. 
The car journey is quiet and you wonder if this maybe wasn’t the best idea. What would everyone at work say? Maybe they didn’t have to know? This could be a one time thing and you’ll both just never mention it again. Well, you hope anyway. 
You think your head might just burst the second he walks into your apartment, somewhere you had never expected Eddie to ever appear. 
You’re quick to continue the abandoned kiss, not giving him any opportunity to make wise cracks about your apartment. It somehow felt easier if it was just mindless sex where you didn’t speak. 
Guiding him towards your bedroom because the couch felt just a tad too casual. His hands are everywhere, sneaking underneath your blouse and then back down into the waistband of your pants. You shove him backwards onto your bed, clambering on top quickly so as to not give him a chance to start speaking or to do anything stupid. 
Eddie’s obviously not keen on giving you the higher ground, gripping onto your waist and flipping the both of you so that he led on top. He’s got this devilish grin on his face that is so smug, you just want to slap it off of him. You chase the taste of his mouth with yours, becoming accustomed to the mixture of cigarettes and mint. God, you hope this doesn’t become a regular thing. 
He pulls away from you to gawp down the space between your bodies, mouth hung open, gasping for breath while his fingers skillfully unbutton your pants, pink tongue poking out to wet his lips, “woah… when the hell d’you get that?” staring at the black ink covering your thigh, a rose curling around the length of your flesh. 
A dumb decision you’d made the first week of culinary school. You felt out of place alongside the other chefs who were absolutely covered in tattoos and felt the need to join them. Except, you hadn’t exactly thought about it and just went along with the first thing the dodgy artist had suggested. He’d also quite purposely left out just how much such a large piece would fucking hurt, especially for a first tattoo. 
You join him in looking down at it, curling your lips in disgust, “when I was like… eighteen, it’s ugly and I hate it so thank you,” continuing your task of getting his jacket off, ignoring the fact that he was still ogling the inking and slightly starting to regret your decision to bring him here. 
“It’s fucking sick, what are you talking about?” he’s smirking, running his fingers along the thick lining as your pants hang around your knees, “I thought you were like… boring,” finding the hem of your lacy underwear and tugging on it. 
Your lips hover above his, eyes hooded as you glare at him, “can you just shut up before I regret everything and make you leave?”
He nods instantaneously, connecting your lips with a quickness, shaking his jacket off of his arm and onto the floor with a thud. Repositioning his knees to either side of your thighs, you’d done a good job of getting your shirt half-off, his fingers fiddling with the rest of the buttons as you break from his lips, leaving wet kisses along his stubbly jawline. 
“Holy fuck, you’re joking?” his eyes just about popping out of his head as your pierced nipples spill out of your bra. Another spontaneous teenage decision you hadn’t got round to getting rid of yet. 
His hand is immediately drawn to your exposed breast, full of pure glee, “you’re a dark horse, you know that right?” thumb running over the erect nipple as you fumble with his tattered old belt. 
Your mouth opens to protest his ogling but is quickly replaced with a soft gasp, his thumb working miracles on the sensitive bud. Head falling back against the pillow when his lips replace his thumb, licking and sucking on your nipple with a wicked grin. 
“Shit,” you moan, his growing erection rutting against your core, “can you- please hurry up,” it sounds strangled coming from your throat, embarrassed that you’ve completely melted into a pile of putty beneath him. If you’d have known that his mouth could be put to such good use, maybe you’d have tried this earlier. 
Thankfully, he takes the hint, leaving one last kitten lick to your chest before rushing to get his pants down. Kicking them off to the side somewhere, the clunk of his belt buckle hitting your bed frame on the way down. 
“Oh baby, that all for me?” remarking on your absolutely sodden underwear, hurriedly pulling them down your thighs, before using the same hand to position himself at your dripping entrance. 
You’re too desperate to think of anything smart to say back, knowing that if you opened your mouth you’d probably just start begging. 
His face mere inches from yours as he pushes himself inside, a groan from somewhere deep in his chest falls out, “Jesus Christ,” he stutters, willing himself not to cum right now. Sex is always better with someone you detested. Now why is that? 
Your arms loosely knot around his neck, intertwining your fingers with his hair, trying your utmost to hold eye contact as his hips begin to move. Slow at first, reaching the hilt before pulling back and sliding in, it’s excruciatingly slow and your legs tighten around his waist, begging for more. 
“Faster.. please Eddie,” whining as his pace quickens, eyes fluttering shut. 
“Yeah yeah.. yeah, say my name,” he blabbers, one hand sliding between your, thumb tapping against your swollen clit before rubbing tiny circles to the sensitive surface. 
“Shit,” you breathe, feeling incredibly full as his tip nudges against that soft, spongy spot. Your eyes squeeze shut, illuminated with an illustration of stars and white hot light. Your heart wasn’t eager to just adhere to his demands like that but shit, when he sounded this desperate, you couldn’t help it. 
Chanting his name like an oath in time with his thrusts. The filthy sounds of his balls slapping against your ass fills the room, accompanying the strained groans coming from his throat. It was far too late and your neighbours could surely hear every single thing. 
“Fuck,” he breathes and you can feel his hips stutter, “you gonna cum for me? Huh?” dropping his forehead to rest against yours. 
Your thighs squeeze around his torso at the words, feeling yourself grow closer to your impending orgasm. His thumb still expertly rubbing your clit, slow but deep thrusts as he nears his own end. Your brain too hazy to think coherently about anything as you tighten around him, overcome with the blinding pleasure of your orgasm. 
“Yesyesyes,” you garble, trembling as you come undone completely, back arching from the mattress which brings your bodies impossibly close. Tugging gently on his curls as a means of encouragement, not that he needed it. 
“Ohhh fuck yeah.. shit,” unable to stop himself in time, spurting thick ropes of cum inside of you. You’re too fucked out to truly think about the implications yet, still gasping for air as he pumps his cock a few measly times before pulling out and sitting up on his knees. 
His wild hair stuck to his moist forehead as he looms above, trying to catch his own breath between your knees. “I’m so sorry.. you’re not.. you can’t get pregnant, can you?” one hand coming to rest on your thigh. 
Your eyes roll on their own, accelerating back to Earth at an insane pace, “no,” reshuffling so you laid comfortably on the pillow, “but you can’t do that again,” glaring up at him without any realisation as to what you just said. 
“Again?” his brows raise, still poised between your legs, “there’s a next time?” 
You huff, turning on your side, away from Eddie and his stupid doe eyes and that ridiculous smirk. Reaching down to grab a shirt from your bedside table while he chuckles to himself. 
Ashamedly, your heart skips a beat when he slides in behind you, pressing his body into yours. You were losing it, and embarrassingly quickly too. Ah fuck. 
-
A hand snaking around your waist pulls you from your sleep and for a brief moment you start to think someone had broken in and decided to crawl into bed with you. Until said hand creeps down to your hip and those lips you’d hung off last night press a small kiss to your shoulder. 
“Morning,” you grumble, placing your hand atop of his to stop it creeping into the waistband of your shorts.  
“Ah c’mon..” frowning against your back, “best way to start a long day.” 
“I have to get ready for work, so do you actually,” keeping your head firmly on the pillow, there were no real intentions of getting up. Not yet. 
“Hmm.. five minutes,” hand descending even with yours on top, his smirk evident, dripping through his words. You shudder as his hand reaches your cunt, leaning backwards into his chest, ever so slightly parting your legs. 
“Five minutes,” you agree, fully acknowledging that you were slipping into dangerous territory here. 
-
“Did you fuck Helen too?” you ask, not really wanting to know the answer but just having to know if you were right in your stereotyping. 
Every kitchen had one. The one that seemed to make their way around everyone eventually. You were sure Eddie was that one and you were the last on his hit list. 
“What? Helen was like fifty dude,” messing with the volume dial on the radio. 
“So? Did you?”
He’s silent for a second, throwing his hands into the air, “it was one time,” raging that you’d caught him out on such a baseless accusation. 
“I knew it,” nodding smugly to yourself, he most definitely has the aura of the kitchen bike and that was for sure. 
“Yeah but… you’re like actually hot and I know what you’re thinking but no, I am not a slut… it was once and we were drunk and that was it, so you can shut up,” deciding to turn the stereo off, not a fan of your choice of Taylor Swift records. 
“I’m like… actually hot?” mimicking his tone. 
His eyes roll into the back of his head, of course that’d be the only part of the sentence you picked up on, “hon, you don’t notice me pop a boner everytime we argue?”
Your face screws up, unsure of whether to take it as a compliment or if you should be speaking to HR, “wasn’t generally looking in that direction if I’m honest,” swinging round into the car park, just past Eddie’s abandoned van, “thanks though… I think,” smiling at him as you gather your things. 
“It was a compliment, by the way,” stepping out of your car, tapping the doors of his rusty old van before walking inside, going on and on about Peggy (his van) and how important she was to him. 
You’re not entirely paying attention as you walk into the kitchen, startled by the presence of somebody already clattering about in there. Eddie follows closely behind, just as confused as you that anybody sane would be here this early. 
“Hello?” you call out, rounding the corner to spot Marcus who had taken it upon himself to come in early to start prep, making a monumental mess of the counter. 
“Oh yeah, hey… I wanted to start now ‘cause I need to leave early- you two came in together?” perplexed by the sight of Eddie peering over your shoulder, the batter covered wooden spoon pointed at the pair of you. 
“Right… er- his van broke down last night and I said I’d give him a ride,” nodding at your obviously fabricated story, looking to Eddie for some back up. 
He nods along happily, “I’m gonna take a look at ‘er later, fingers crossed or you’ll be givin’ me rides all week,” slinking away into the locker room with a sly smirk on his face, thankfully hidden by the shoddy wall as he winks. 
“God forbid,” you quip back, scrunching up your nose as you leave the two of them and make your way to the office, throwing your bag onto the cluttered desk and collapsing onto the desk chair. 
You had to get this damn menu done by Friday or you were completely, utterly fucked. Already three days behind on the schedule, you’d be lucky if you even made it home tonight. Flinging the discarded laptop lid open to be met with the very much blank menu once again. An email pings through that makes your heart jump. It must’ve gone unseen when you were otherwise occupied last night. 
Hello,
I hope this email finds you well. 
I just wanted to confirm that Joan will be in attendance on May 18th as per your invitation. She is looking forward to trying the new menu and will subsequently write a review expecting to be published on or around the 20th. 
Thank you, 
Imogen Smart, The Indianapolis Star
Oh shit oh fuck oh balls. 
It had slipped your mind that you’d even invited her along to try the new menu. What a colossal mistake this would turn out to be. 
Stupid, stupid girl. 
You’re slouched over the desk, head in your hands when Eddie creeps through the open door, startling you when he speaks, “you good?” making his way to the desk, leering down to look at the screen as if it was any of his business. 
“I really do not have time for you right now,” smoothing out your new-found forehead wrinkles. You never had time for his bullshit but you certainly did not have time for them now. 
“Eh, what the fuck? I was inside of you like three hours ago and now you’re being weird again?” 
“Shhh- shut up,” you whisper-shout, the chair rolling back as you stand rather ferociously, staring at the gap in the door and just praying that Marcus was too busy doing whatever the fuck he was doing to hear. 
“Jesus… chill out,” his hands are on your shoulders, soothing your nerves irregardless of how much you cared to admit it. 
You blink at him, cheeks burning, “I just- I have so much to do today, this critic is coming and I still haven’t finished the men-” 
Your sentence is rudely interrupted with his soft lips pressing against yours, caressing your cheek with his rough hand. It’s automatic, but you’re leaning into it, finding yourself gripping onto his bicep as he nudges you back towards the desk. It’s probably a good thing that your tailbone smacks into the sharp edge, pushing him from you as you come back to planet Earth. 
“Stop.. stop,” gently squeezing his arm, the other consoling your throbbing spine, “I need you out there today, okay? You’re gonna have to take charge, get shit done and do not bother me unless that kitchen is on fire or you’ve cut your arm off, okay?” lowering your head to meet his eyeline. 
“My arm? That’s a bit extreme,” deciding to turn your high stress situation into a joke. 
“Yes your arm, finger you can deal with, capiche?”
“Yes ma’am,” hand lingering on the small of your back, “you sure you’re good?” 
You exhale slowly and perhaps a tad too harshly snap, “yes.. I’m okay, now unless you have a brand new menu for me.. get out,” sweetening the blow with a sickly smile, motioning for him to leave. 
“Okay okay..” he begins walking to the door, “I’m in charge, right?” ever the opportunist. 
“Yes, but do not make me regret it,” flashing him a warning look. 
“Sweet,” winking at you as he slips out of the door, rubbing his hands together like the little demon he is. You roll your eyes but can’t deny the way your heart thuds with affection.
Whatever was blossoming had the potential to fuck up every single good thing you’d done for this place, but you’d be damned if you weren’t going to at least see how far you could go before total chaos.
- p2
You had meant for it to be casual. Like a few times a month sorta thing. And yet somehow you’re sat with your head on Eddie’s shoulder, half asleep as the gory horror film he’d picked plays on. 
It had started that way, to be fair. After a stressful day or on a quick lunch break you’d catch him and pull him into the office. It’s no surprise really that it didn’t take long for the rest of the kitchen to catch on. 
But back to right now, you’re only supposed to be  resting your eyes as you lean into his shoulder. He smelt like kitchen, cigarettes and the new cologne you’d bought for him as his old one was quite frankly disgusting and had irritated your nose. He jolts upright when the screen flashes, knocking you from his shoulder and rudely pulling you out of your slumber. 
“You’re a prick,” you mumble, glowering in his direction before opting for the opposite side of the sofa, the side that wasn’t rude. 
He snorts but quickly realises that you are very serious and very much not happy, “I’m sorry.. come sleep on me again,” pleading with you, “or d’you wanna go to bed?” clicking the pause button on the remote. 
“I wanted to go to bed an hour ago,” grumbling into the cushion as he’d ignored your request and swore that you’d just love this new movie. You didn’t. It was fucking boring. 
“Okay okay, let’s go to bed,” he shuts the television off before standing from the couch, towering over your curled up body, “I’m not fuckin’ carrying you,” already wise to your tricks. 
You groan something incoherently, something deeply offensive to his entire bloodline, before pulling yourself from the couch. “You know, if we’d gone to bed when I’d asked, I would’ve let you put it in my ass,” shrugging innocently before leading the way to your bedroom. 
“Wait what? You didn’t say- I didn’t know that was an option!” speed-walking to catch up with you, incredibly eager to figure out if this offer was still on the table. 
It was not. 
“Yup, shame really.. you should probably listen to me more,” clambering into the unmade bed with the tiniest smirk on your face. 
He’s not far behind, leaping into your bed, “we can still do that though, right? It’s only..” glancing at your alarm clock, “..two” he doesn’t even sound sure of himself. 
“Nope,” pulling the blanket over your shoulders, purposely choosing to face the other way, “you missed your chance buddy.” 
-
Whoever had done the ordering (you) had royally fucked up and left tomatoes off of the list. So as a consequence of your stupidity, you were now in Bradley’s trying to balance ten packets of stupid fucking tomatoes in your arms. 
You’re not even looking where you're going, too focused on not dropping the damn horrid red things as you skulk through the store. It’s already too late when you bash the elbow of some innocent bystander, knocking multiple packets to the ground. 
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” you grumble, grabbing at the discarded fruits with your spare hand. 
The kind gentleman had already started to try and balance them back in your arms. You look up to thank the stranger to be met with a face you hadn’t seen since high school. 
“Steve Harrington? I- what the fuck?” you remark, clutching onto the produce so as to not cause another collapse. 
“Holy shit, it’s you,” he’s utterly dumbfounded, staring back at your face in amazement. 
You’re suddenly extremely aware of your dirty uniform and messy hair, eyeing his well pressed suit and just general put-togetherness. His hair still perfectly styled though just a bit shorter now. 
“What are you doing here? I didn’t think you lived in Indiana anymore?” the last you’d heard of him, his father had sent him away to his office in New York, desperate for his son to have the life he never had. 
“Ah.. well, I do now, bit of a long story,” chuckling awkwardly as he takes the majority of your tomatoes to the counter, lightening the load. 
“Oh well, that’s cool..” you nod to the cashier who asks if you’d like a bag or multiple bags in your case, “I’d love to catch up but I’ve got a bit of a tomato crisis, uh..” digging in your pocket for the company card. 
“Yeah definitely… here let me,” he grabs one of the jam packed bags under his arm, “I’m gonna assume these aren’t all for you?” leading the way to the parking lot. 
“Oh no, I fucking hate tomatoes.. I messed up at work so it’s my job to fix it,” loading the bags into your dusty old car, “here, take my number and we can plan something.. it’s been so long,” grabbing for your phone in your apron. 
“I uh- I actually have your number,” he nods, not bothering to get his own phone out. 
“I’ve changed my number since high school, Steve.” 
“No, yeah I know.. I got it from Robin, I was s’posed to call you when I got back..” rubbing his thumb along his forehead and into his hair, “I’ll give you a call later and we can do something,” smiling softly as he closes your back door. 
“Oh, okay.. yes please call me, I- uh I really have to get back,” sliding into the driver's seat, fumbling with your keys, as you roll the window down to continue the conversation. 
“I will, I hope your tomato crisis.. gets better,” shrugging awkwardly as you start the engine. Wincing at his choice of words. 
“Me fucking too,” rolling your eyes as you pull off, not entirely registering what had just happened, focused on getting these stupid vegetables back to the restaurant. 
It’s not until an unknown number flashes up on your screen that you think about it again. He’d left it until you were right in the middle of stuffing dinner down your throat to call of course. 
“Hello?” you muffle into the phone, chewing on the lukewarm piece of chicken. 
“Hey! It’s Steve.. you said to call so.. I called,” he sounds nervous, like he was calling a stranger and not you. 
“Oh hey.. sorry I’m eating,” covering your mouth as you loudly swallow, “how are you?” 
“Yeah I’m good, hope your crisis turned out okay,” laughing into the receiver. 
“Surprisingly, it wasn’t too bad.. thank you for your help, you saved me from squishing a ton of tomatoes.” 
“Of course,” he clears his throat, “would you wanna grab a coffee or something tomorrow? I take it you’re busy with your.. tomatoes but I’m free pretty much whenever.” 
“Yes.. yes erm-,” you set the phone onto loudspeaker and flit through the bookings for tomorrow, it wasn’t insanely busy and you were sure they would manage without you for an hour or so, “does ten sound good for you?” 
“Ten is perfect,” you can hear his smile through the phone, “I’ll see you there then, enjoy your dinner,” still sounding as awkward as ever. 
“Okay.. I’ll see you then, then,” making a mental note for tomorrow that you’d probably end up forgetting anyway. 
You end the call, locking your phone and finally giving all your attention to the cold plate of food in front of you. 
“Who was that?” Eddie appears out of nowhere, frowning as he walks into the office. 
“Hmm? Oh, my friend Steve,” devouring the chicken without a second thought as to why he was even questioning it. 
“Your friend? That you’re going for coffee with…?” 
“Were you listening to my conversation?” blinking up at him. 
“No.. I overheard you- don’t change the subject, you’re ditching work for a date?” he’s scowling, coming to perch on the desk. 
“It’s not a date,” you warn, prodding the fork into his rib, “he’s a friend from school and we’re catching up while it’s quiet tomorrow, is that okay with you?” shaking your head, not that you were genuinely asking for his approval. 
He narrows his eyes, “I suppose..” he takes the fork from your hand, helping himself to your dinner, “it’s just coffee?” asking tentatively as his greedy ass tucks in. 
“Oh my God yes, it’s just coffee,” he was incredibly jealous for someone who was not your boyfriend. 
“Okay okay.. sheesh, no need to get defensive.. date whoever you want,” shrugging as if he couldn’t care less. 
“You’re the one getting jealous, not my fault you never ask me to go for coffee.” 
“Because we spend every waking moment together anyway,” repetitively banging his heel into the desk, irritating you to no end. “But I’ll make sure to ask you to go for coffee from now on.. don’t want some loser taking my place.” 
You huff, pulling the plate away from his greedy hands, “are you done?” 
He shuffles backwards, still picking at your food despite your obvious attempts to get it away from him. “Okay okay.. I’m done.” 
Eddie, in fact, does not drop it. 
He’s still pouting when you climb into bed, sighing to himself like a pathetic old dog. Except now, he’d become desperate and slightly weird about it. Making all sorts of promises and hypothetical dates for you two to go on. 
“Why don’t we go for coffee tomorrow? I’ll even pay,” walking his fingers along your side. 
“Eddie please, can you stop? Who am I in bed with right now? Because it’s not Steve, I can tell you that,” exasperated by his incessant attempts to piss you off. 
“Okay.. okayy,” retiring this tired bit for the night at long last, “you’re still taking me to work, right?” settling his hand on your waist, cuddling into your back. 
“Yes, you bum,” switching the lamp off before setting your head on the pillow. 
“I’m not a bum,” feeling him frown against your back, “it’s not my fault you refuse to get in my van.” 
“It’s a death trap, I’d rather risk walking along the highway,” smiling into the darkness. 
“Yeah whatever, good night,” he mumbles, pretending to be pissed off until you feel the tiniest, sweetest kiss to your shoulder. 
-
You’re running late, as usual. Something about the bookings being fucked for tonight meaning you were either going to have a full restaurant or have absolutely no one show up. 
It didn’t matter to you, not right now anyway because you’re jogging along the sidewalk to get to the dang café before Steve thinks you’ve abandoned him.  
You’re huffing and puffing when you shove open the door, making a royal fool of yourself as anyone would believe you’ve just sprinted in a marathon to get here. 
Steve jolts up the second he hears the door go, giving you a small wave from his table in the corner. It’s a relief that he hadn’t just up and left considering you were fifteen minutes late. 
“I am so so sorry,” you say hurriedly, sliding into the other chair, “another crisis and obviously I’m the only one who’s capable of fixing things so..” you stop your rambling to look at him properly, “sorry- you don’t care, shit did you order?” 
He chuckles nervously, “yeah.. I didn’t know what you wanted so I didn’t get you anything,” he stands up, “what d’ya get?” 
“Uhh a cappuccino would be great.. thanks,” setting your bag down on the vacant chair beside you. 
You chat about nothing and everything for a while until Steve turns the conversation back to high school. Now, you and Steve had a weird relationship during high school; hung around the same group, had a massive crush on the guy and was pretty certain that he at least liked you too. It had just never amounted to anything. 
“I remember in school, you always used to cook shit for us.. it’s crazy that you’ve got your own restaurant now,” shaking his head in slight disbelief. 
You’d bring tupperware full to the brim with whatever random shit you’d cooked up the night before. Forcing your friends to eat it and share their opinions no matter how harsh they could be. 
“It’s not really my restaurant,” sipping the cappuccino he’d kindly bought, “I just run it and make sure it doesn’t burn down or go bankrupt,” laughing to yourself. 
“So it’s technically yours..” fingers fiddling around with the empty sugar packet, “I’ll have to come by sometime, I wanna see what all the fuss is about.” 
“I mean, I could probably get you in tomorrow.. if you wanted?” 
“Well yeah, that sounds great,” smiling earnestly across the table. 
“Great! I’ll text you the details later but you should definitely bring your wife, I’d love to meet her,” you vaguely remember seeing the extravagant wedding pictures on Facebook a few years back. 
You hadn’t paid much attention as to who he’d married just recalled noticing the absolutely gargantuan manor house in the back and how stunning her dress was. 
His smile fades and his mouth opens to speak but doesn’t manage to squeeze anything out. You get the feeling that that might have been the wrong thing to say. Immediately wanting to slide down your seat and hide under the table. 
Steve takes it well though, laughing softly, “Ah.. not anymore but uh- thank you for bringing that back up,” playfully shaking his head. 
“Oh no, oh my God.. I’m sorry,” grimacing because of your big fat mouth, “I thought I’d seen it on Facebook but maybe that wasn’t you.. oh fuck.” 
“No.. it probably was me, we just- yeah not anymore,” wiggling his empty hand in your direction, only just now are you noticing the lack of a ring. 
“I’m sorry,” smiling apologetically, “I’ve gotta ask though.. what happened?” 
He sits back in his chair, preparing for the absolute novel of a story he was about to tell, “well, my dad moved me to New York, wanted me to learn how to be a man or whatever,” waving his arms about, “and I met the love of my life- I thought I met the love of my life.. we got married and it was great for a little while but she..” he inhales, recalling the still bitter memories, “..obviously didn’t feel the same way,” you’re sat eager eyed, waiting for the real gossip, “she was fucking her boss.. whole time.” 
“Shittt…” baring your teeth in a pained expression, “that’s awful Steve, I’m so sorry,” gingerly patting his outstretched arm, “what a bitch.” 
He nods along, “yeah she is,” his fingers drum a rhythm into the table, “that’s why I’m back here… I’m sick of New York.” 
“God,” guilt rising into your chest for being the one to bring that back up, “at least you’re home now, right? Must be nice seeing everyone again,” your eyes flitting to your phone that had lit up for the umpteenth time. 
eds:) : when r u coming back?? 
eds:) : helloooo? 
eds:) : stop fucking ur boyfriend and come back 2 work 
eds:) : i’m being serious now we need u 
Steve follows your gaze to your phone screen, realising that you’d been sitting here for a while now and he’d just pulled you from your work to talk about his messy divorce. “Work?” 
You look back at him, “yeah.. I’m gonna have to run, but I’ll get you a table for tomorrow,” pushing your chair back, grabbing for your bag, “bring whoever.. I’ll text you the details!” offering him a small smile as you rush out of the busy cafe not bothering to wait for his reply. 
-
Eddie is just as irritating as expected when you get back, hanging off of your arm the second you walk in the door. 
“So, you just had coffee? You were gone a long time, man,” an attempt to play off his jealousy, though it was hardly working. 
“Don’t call me man, and yep, just coffee. Like I’ve said a hundred times before,” hanging up your bag and tying the apron around your waist. 
“Right.. he wasn’t tryna do anything though, was he? ‘Cause I can tell him straight if you need me to,” hanging around your ankles like a lost puppy dog. 
“He’s in the middle of a divorce. I don’t think you need to do anything, big boy,” gently patting his arm. 
“Ohh so that’s why he’s back and trying to fuck you now.. I get his game.” 
You turn to face him, sandwiched between his body and the rusty lockers, “will you just relax? Please,” running your hands down his chest. 
Eddie frowns slightly, but nods, “he’s got nothin’ on me anyway..” a silhouette of a smirk forming on his face, “you know who’s givin’ it to ya good,” planting his lips on yours before you get the chance to express your utter disgust. 
You’re smiling when he pulls back but push him away from you regardless, “do not ever say that shit to me again,” tightening the straps around your waist, walking away from the freak and into whatever hell awaits you in the kitchen.  
-
It’s not very surprising that Steve comes in alone, your heart aches a little seeing him sat at the table on his own. 
Unbeknownst to you, Eddie is watching your face with a foul scowl on his. His eyes roll to the back of his head when you announce that you’re going to see how he is, practically snarling at the thought. 
He knows the dish in front of him is Steve’s order, he’d audibly criticised the fact that Steve had removed the mushrooms from his food, is he a fucking toddler or something? 
His eyes dart around the room, pursing his lips as he prepares to maybe just let the glob of spit fall out of his mouth and accidentally into Steve’s childish dinner. 
“Don’t,” Tina’s hand clamps over his mouth, stopping his despicable plans in motion. 
“I wasn’t actually gonna do it,” he protests, glowering at his co-worker. He definitely was going to do it and she knew it. 
“Leave him alone,” flashing him that universally understood look that tells him not to even dare, “can you blame her, though? Meow,” grinning as her eyes flicker to you and Steve through the tiny window. 
Eddie kisses the back of his teeth, whipping the dish towel at her, “ha ha very funny,” she’s desperate to rile him up as much as possible, taunting him with her mean quips. 
His eyes slide to the window, met with the image of you absolutely cracking up at something Steve had said. It was the kinda laugh he loved to force out of you, usually late at night when you were overly tired and a little hazy. Unheard by most people. It was a slight comfort to know that Steve definitely wasn’t that funny, he could almost bank on it. 
It’s like torture watching the pair of you interact for what feels like forever. Pulling his eyes away, deciding to go for a cigarette instead of putting himself through any more of that. 
The air outside is still, it’s getting colder again but it seemed like Indiana was still hanging onto the dregs of summer; the sky illuminated with streaks of pink and orange. Maybe that’s what he was doing? Desperately clawing to keep your thing alive all the while you were trying to wriggle out of it. 
He’s harshly pulled out of his self-pitying cloud, “Eddie?” you call out of the door, bounding over to where he was slouched against the brick wall, “thank you for doing that.. he said it’s great,” your toothy grin making an appearance. 
Eddie grunts something in response, trying desperately not to think of you smiling at Steve like that. 
“What? You okay? Why’re you being weird?” 
“I’m not being weird,” he shrugs, lying through his teeth. He couldn’t help it, his heart twisting and contorting with every mention of that prick's name. 
“Yes you are,” sighing softly, “you’re actually jealous? I thought you were just joking,” stepping toward him as he throws the cigarette to the floor. 
His eyes eventually find yours, “I’m not.. jealous,” curling his finger into the bow of your apron strap, using it to pull you in, “I don’t get jealous,” another blatant lie. 
“Mhm is that right?” you giggle, his behaviour over the past few days had proven that statement to be false. Wrapping your arms around his waist as your cheek begins to rest on his chest. 
Desperately trying to convince himself that this is a sign. That if you’d really wanted to, you’d be in there, doing this with Steve. But you’re not. You’re here. You’re clinging onto him and everything is fine. 
-
The door handle at the front of the store rattles a couple times before whoever is behind it gives up and knocks, you all look at each other slightly confused before Eddie takes the plunge and goes to answer. You’re standing behind the counter with a guarded expression, not prepared for whatever crazy was trying to get in at stupid o’clock in the morning. 
Steve is standing behind the open door with an apologetic smile, holding up a takeaway cup obviously bought for you. Eddie is less than thrilled, skulking back into the kitchen with the most horrendous scowl plastered on his face. 
“I’m sorry.. I should’ve text first,” kicking the door shut behind him, offering out the warm cup for you to take. 
You breathe a sigh of relief, “yeah.. that would’ve been a good idea, thank you though,” gladly taking his offering. 
“I just wanted to say thank you for last night, I didn’t catch you before I left so thought I’d stop by,” sipping on his own coffee, poised in the middle of the restaurant floor. 
Eddie’s stood leaning against the wall that separates the kitchen from the front of house, arms crossed against his chest. Disapproving glare set solidly on Steve. 
“Yeah absolutely, I’m glad you liked it,” smiling fondly at the man, sipping appreciatively on your cappuccino. 
“I uh- I have a question for you,” his eyes flit to Eddie who was still stood with his eyes narrowed, scowling, “in private.. if that’s alright?” 
You spin to look at Eddie, nodding towards the back, “I’ll meet you in my office in a minute,” shooing him off, “please.” 
He snarls back at you, looking back over his shoulder to shoot daggers into Steve before eventually disappearing into the kitchen. For someone acting so jealous, you’d think you’d have been in a committed relationship for years. 
Rolling your eyes as you trundle closer to Steve, “ignore him.” 
“He a handful?” 
“Mm and a mouthful sometimes,” perching on one of the tables, totally oblivious to your innuendo. 
Steve’s eyebrows shoot up his forehead, blinking ferociously as you finally catch on. 
“Oh no- I just meant he’s like.. rude,” stumbling over your words, cheeks beginning to burn. 
“I know what you meant,” Steve assures, though he looked a little flustered himself. 
Your eyes squeeze shut, “just continue,” rolling your hand, desperate for him to forget you’d opened your mouth.
He clears his throat, “so I was talking to my buddy.. he owns Garson’s in the city and he was saying there’s a spot opening for a sous,” glancing at you, “I just mentioned your name and I’ll give you his number but he said he’d love to meet you,” his mouth twitching into a smile. 
Well, that was not at all what you were expecting.  
In fact, it was a massive curveball ball that you’d not rehearsed a response to. 
Garson’s was insane, they’d just earned their first star and everybody who was anybody was trying to get a reservation. It would be career defining to even stage there. 
“Oh wow… Steve I actually don’t know how to reply to that,” placing your coffee onto the table in fear of dropping it on the floor. 
“Well obviously think about it, I’ll text you his details later, he seemed pretty eager to get someone in so.. don’t take too long,” drumming his fingers onto the table. 
“Yeah.. right, holy shit,” you remark, trying to take it all in. It’s unclear what to even say to him in this situation, thank you seemed too small but slathering his face in kisses was probably a step too far. 
“I gotta go, let me know what you decide,” his smile honest and genuine as he grabs his coffee and heads to the door. 
Just before he slips out, you jump back into action, “thank you!” beaming with pure unadulterated joy. 
He nods, disappearing into the street as the door slams shut behind him. 
You can barely contain yourself, practically skipping through the kitchen to go and find Eddie who you were absolutely certain was not going to share the same level of excitement you possessed. 
“What’s got you so happy? He ask you out on a real date finally?” turning up his nose without you saying a word. 
“Noo..” you chime in, still riding the high, kicking the door shut behind you, traipsing over to rest your hands on Eddie’s shoulders, “so.. Steve said there’s a position going in Garson’s and it’s basically mine if I want it..” struggling to contain your grin. 
His hands falter, brushing down your sides to now hang limp beside him, “what?” Unsure if what he had heard had been correct. 
“There’s a job at Garson’s and it’s basically mine.. isn’t that great?” grabbing at the back of his neck. You were expecting a little more happiness than this, you can’t lie. 
He looks almost offended. Features screwed up in pure confusion, as if you’d insulted his mother. “So you’re leaving? Some fancy job pops up from your fancy pants boyfriend and you’re suddenly abandoning us?” 
“Wha- no? I’m not abandoning anybody,” removing your arms from his shoulder, “this is an opportunity to actually do something with my career, show everyone what I’m capable of,” you couldn’t understand why he couldn’t just pretend to be happy for you. 
He stands up, the chair making a god-awful noise behind him, “so you get to come in here, change everything and then jump ship as soon as something better comes along?” eyes that once looked at you with pure adoration now full of disgust. 
You’re gobsmacked. Utterly speechless that he was acting like such a petulant jerk. You hadn’t seen this side of him since that night so many months ago in this very office. 
“Eddie, what has got into you? This is good news! You didn’t expect me to stay here forever, did you?” 
“I don’t know,” exasperated, “I just didn’t expect you to run to the next best thing so soon,” he looks venomous, mean. 
“I’m not! He’s my friend and he’s helping me out.. why are you being like this?” he may as well have torn your heart from your chest and stomped on it in front of you. 
Eddie scoffs, running a hand over his mouth, “your friend… who you haven’t spoken to in years suddenly has this great new job for you and has absolutely no ulterior motive? Ha, right.” 
It finally clicks in your brain, he doesn’t really give a shit whether you stay or go. This was about hating Steve and being a jealous loser despite still not asking you to be his girlfriend. 
“That’s what this is about? You think Steve.. what? That he wants to fuck me? You’re pathetic, do you know that?” 
“It’s not about that,” raising his voice, chest puffed out. This was the Eddie you’d met and hated six months ago. You were sure you’d never have to deal with that prick again. “I don’t.. I don’t care what or who you do, I just think you’re a traitor and I don’t want anything to do with someone like that.” 
Your face falls, blinking rapidly as the tears prick in your eyes. Swallowing the growing lump in your throat. He could be an evil prick when he wanted to be and before, it never would’ve upset you this much. But now it felt personal, like you’d let him in only for him to use everything you’d told him against you. 
“Get out,” bottom lip quivering, tears threatening to spill. You wouldn’t give him that satisfaction at least, waiting until the door is slammed in your face to let them fall. 
Humiliated and utterly pathetic as you flop into the chair, letting the tears fall free. 
If he was trying to convince you to stay, then he’d failed. Majorly. 
-
You’re hidden in the office for the remainder of the day. Courtesy of Eddie’s horrible words. 
And he’s just a ray of sunshine in the kitchen. Clattering about as he drops pans, recklessly launching knives and utensils onto the counter. 
Marcus has had enough of his tantrum, tapping on his shoulder, “let’s get some fresh air, yeah?” steering Eddie towards the back alley. 
He slides down the brick wall, cigarette poised between his lips while Marcus mouths something to the rest of the beady eyed staff. 
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Marcus asks, he’s genuine but stern. Has talked the boy down a multitude of times but this seemed different. 
“She’s fucking leaving..” blowing the smoke from the side of his mouth, “some stuck up restaurant that dickhead Steve got her into.. that’s what’s wrong with me.” 
Marcus’ mouth opens but doesn’t speak, deciding to get down to Eddie’s level, perching next to him on the floor, “and why’s that made you so angry? She break up with you as well or somethin’?” struggling to understand why he cares so much. 
“No,” Eddie glowers at the floor, “you can’t break up if you’re not together. I’m just.. I’m pissed off, she came in here.. changed everything and now she gets to just move on like it’s nothing.” 
Poor Marcus is trying to piece it all together in his head. Settling on the only sensible conclusion that maybe whatever was going on between you and him was perhaps a hell of a lot deeper than either of you were admitting. 
“So.. you’re pissed that she made this shithole better? You sure that’s it?” questioning the validity of Eddie’s anger. 
“What’re you tryna say?” Eddie snaps, gritting his teeth together. How dare Marcus not believe his incredibly flimsy words? 
“That you’re not really angry ‘cause she’s moving on, you’re pissed because of this new guy and you think he’s.. he’s gonna take your spot or something? I can see right through you bro,” clapping his hand emphatically on Eddie’s shoulder, having caught him red handed. 
Eddie glares at the man, snarling but unable to respond. Because he was right. Eddie is a pathetic, insecure loser who can’t bring himself to just admit to you that he was jealous of Steve. It was easier for him to just make you hate him than to be honest with you about how he felt, at least that way you didn’t have the opportunity to shut him down. You couldn’t reject him if you didn’t know. 
“You’re gonna fuck this up forever if you keep acting like this,” Marcus sighs, getting up from the floor, “get in there and apologise or you’ll just push her right into his arms and I really don’t wanna deal with you if that happens,” flashing him a stern but well-meaning glare before disappearing back into the kitchen. 
His eyes squeeze shut, and as much as he didn’t want to hear that, he knew he was right. Self-sabotage had always been his forte except this time he was truly terrified of the possibility of losing you. And he wasn’t going to let that happen.  
-
There’s a quiet knock on your office door and you’re just about prepared to bite the head off of whoever dares to disturb you. 
“Come in,” you bark, dropping the pen onto the desk in frustration. 
A very meek Eddie peeks around the door, testing the waters to decide if it’s safe to fully come in without you throwing something at him.
Nothing collides with his head so he pushes the door open, holding onto a plate of pasta he’d made especially for you. He’s chewing on his bottom lip, still deciding on the right words to say. 
“You haven’t eaten all day..” he decides on, gingerly placing the plate in front of you on the desk, “you don’t have to eat it but don’t throw it away,” stepping back from the desk with extreme caution. 
You’re taken aback, not at all expecting the kind gesture, blinking at the delicious food in front of you. “Can I have a fork..?” 
“Shit yes I got one,” digging in his apron pocket for the utensil, laying it down next to the plate gently. 
“Thank you,” you nod, poking your fork into the food. It is delicious and it was still warm which is an even better bonus. 
He smiles slightly, “I wanted to say.. I’m sorry for being an asshole, you should..” trailing off into silence, swallowing the lump in his throat, “you should go for it, it’s a great opportunity,” reassuring himself even if he didn’t quite believe it. 
You chew slowly, apprehensive about his sudden change in attitude. This surely hadn’t been a conclusion he’d reached on his own and you wonder just who in the kitchen had given him a pep talk before sending him in here. You appreciated it nonetheless. As weird and complicated as you guys were, you weren’t quite ready to give it up already. 
“Really?” you look up, trying to gauge his reaction. It was evident that he was putting on a brave front and he still had some apprehensions about it all but for you he was willing to ignore them. 
Your heart swells. Which makes you feel a little sick. In a good way though, well, you think so anyway. 
“Yeah.. you’re a great chef and you deserve better than this shithole,” one side of his mouth twisting into a smile. The words are heavy and difficult to get out, but they’re true. He means it and would really do anything to ensure you were happy. Even if it did mean swallowing his pride and letting you follow that douchebag Steve. 
You stand from your chair, rushing over to wrap your arms around his neck. “Thank you..” resting your chin on his shoulder. His arms wrap around your waist, placing a soft kiss upon your forehead. 
He was going to miss these little moments the most, he thinks. Shaking his head slightly when his mind flits to the thought of you in some other kitchen doing this with someone other than him. 
“You want some food? Don’t wanna eat this whole thing myself,” pulling away from his grip, motioning back towards your desk. 
“Thought you’d never ask,” masking the ache in his heart with a sloppy grin. 
If his uncle had taught him anything, it was that you had to make sacrifices for the people you loved. Or thought you loved. Whatever. 
-
It doesn’t take long for Steve to show his stupid little face again and it irks Eddie to know that you were probably texting with him this entire time. Getting excited about this new position with another man. Blergh. It was knocking him sick. 
You look over Steve’s shoulder to give Eddie a small glance, smiling ever so tenderly as you disappear into your office. That should be enough confirmation that he truly had nothing to worry about. It was just a job. Oh God, what if you find someone else to bicker with? Look what had happened to you two. 
That sicky feeling returns and he wants to bolt. But he doesn’t, he’s big and brave and instead chooses to focus on finely dicing some onions until you reemerge from your office. Whenever the fuck that would be. 
It must be a whole half an hour before Steve walks through the kitchen, giving Eddie a sly pat on the back on the way out. Smug prick. He just grips the knife tighter, waiting for you to confirm that you’d be gone next week and that he should really start moving on before you left. 
“Ed’s can I talk to you outside?” your voice snaps him out of his pity party, giving the rest of the crew what looked like a sympathetic smile, you’d tell all of them the bad news later. 
He knew this was it. You were about to lay it all bare, tell him it’s okay, maybe we can still be friends? I hope you understand but I have to go and work at this fancy restaurant with my fancy high school boyfriend, sorry! 
Reluctantly walking into the alley way, the alley way you’d shared many sneaky kisses, reassuring words and that one time you’d got carried away and almost gave him a hand job right then and there. It was painful, the once comforting aura of the brick walls had since vanished. 
He’s already bracing for the worst, keeping his back to you as he walks further down the path. It’s the only way he could be sure that he wouldn’t end up begging on his knees for you to stay. And even then he couldn’t guarantee that wouldn’t happen. 
“Will you look at me?” your voice echoing through his veins. 
He does, turning on his heel excruciatingly slow. Bottom lip starting to sting as his teeth cut into the skin. 
“When are you going?” solemn and miserable, honestly trying his hardest not to start pleading with you. 
“Never,” shaking your head, “I’m staying here,” feeling incredibly smug. You looked it too, nose scrunched up as you grin at him. 
Fuck. He’s not even sure if he’s heard that right. But the blood rushes back through his body and he almost crumbles, falling to his knees to thank whichever being up there had answered his prayers. The glum look he’d seemed to possess had vanished, grinning like a fucking maniac as he bounds over to you. One minute you’re on the floor and the next you’re being spun around, his arms almost crushing you. 
“What? Why’d you change your mind? I- fuck I’m so happy,” setting you back on solid ground, much to your relief. 
“Well, the thing is.. there’s this guy who works here, he’s a bit of an asshole but for some reason I really like him and he’s convinced me to stay,” fingers digging into his biceps, still afraid that you might become airborne at any moment. 
There’s not time to catch your breath before he’s crashing his lips into yours with great force, sending you flying backwards against the wall. His hands grabbing at anything he could touch, travelling the length of your body to brace your cheeks. Keeping you steady, making sure this was actually real. Christ, he thinks he loves you. 
Scrap that, he’s fucking certain that he loves you. 
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theofficialmoriarty · 1 month
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Hi my name is William! I’m a puppet maker and a voice actor!
You’ll know me for my (remember unofficial) welcome home puppet work! But guess what? 👀 I make puppets too!!! You can commission me but we will get to that later!
Welcome home
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What you’ll know me for are my welcome home puppets! So here they are!!!
Frank frankly: completed! (Checkout the tag welcomeh Frank frankly puppet)
Eddie dear: in progress (checkout the tag welcomeh eddie dear puppet)
Wally darling: not started!
Julie joyful: not started!
Howdy pillar: not started!
The chair: not started!
Sally starlet: not started!
Poppy partridge: not started!
Barnaby b. Beagle: not started!
Miss beagle: not started!
Misc puppets
Puppets I hope to make some day are…
All dhmis puppets!
Caine from tadc!
Commissions!
To get a commission, message me on here or my discord! (TheOfficialMoriarty) I don’t have a bank I’m with at the moment so please donate the payment to my gofundme! Right here!
Ofc do not donate before the commission is accepted unless you just want to donate😅 (you don’t have to submit the payment right away, you just have to submit it before I ship the puppet out)
Commissions are anywhere from 50-600 dollars Plus shipping! Depending on the complexity of your design and materials needed! Though I say it averages at 200!!! Sorry it’s so expensive!!!! (I will not be making any full suit puppets so sorry 😢)
Feel free to ask for updates on your puppet at any moment 😁
The discord server!!!!
I have a discord server for all things puppetry! It features exclusive content you can’t find on my tumblr! Like some fanmade segments of the show (franks bugs Eddie’s crafts etc etc!) you can also request ship content if you donate 2 dollars to my gofundme! (I won’t be doing any ships with Wally so sorry!)
We will have art contests where you can win custom roles!!!! So have fun!!!!
Streaming
My name is TheOfficialMoriarty on twitch!!!!
Thank you!!!!!!!
Youtube and TikTok!
That’s right! I post videos like fan made welcome home media!!!! I’ll also post videos on puppet making tips!!!!
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mitchellpete · 7 months
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Kinktober Day 9 - Praise
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pairing: pete “maverick” mitchell x f!reader
cw: post top gun: maverick, student x teacher relationship, power imbalance, age gap, rank use, praise, oral sex (f receiving), penetration, unprotected sex
word count: 1440
kinktober masterlist here.
18+ ONLY | MINORS DNI
-
The good thing is that the mission was a success, and that it’s finally over. 
The bad thing? You’re burnt out on all levels, muscles achy from the strenuous flight, the dogfighting, the getting out of there alive—quite frankly, the very uncomfortable cots on the carrier, too—and you feel like you could sleep for a month. 
That is immediately forgotten the second you hear the knock on your door. It’s late; you just showered, slipped into PJs and prepared to climb into bed for the first comfortable and stress free sleep in a long, long month, but that is obviously not going to happen anymore. Not when you know exactly who it is on the opposite side of the door. Despite how socially drained you are (thanks to the awful overstimulation you always get on the overcrowded carriers), he’s the one person you want and need right now. 
When you open the door, Maverick looks just as tired as you are, but he’s got a soft smile on his face. You beam at his presence, allow him in and practically shove him against the door for a long awaited kiss. 
Everything that had led up to the mission, Maverick grieving his best friend and really just the stress of it all had kept you apart for almost two weeks. Intimately, at least. You hadn’t been alone with him in what feels like forever, and it shows in the way you kiss him, needy and starved for him. Maverick gracefully kisses you back, grinning into the kiss and wrapping his arms around your frame. Your arms envelop the back of his shoulders, a hand cupping the back of his neck to pull him flush against you.
“God, I missed you so much,” you sigh happily, your lips brushing against his. “How’d you know I was dying to see you tonight?”
He pulls back, leans his head back against the door and looks at you longingly. Takes a real good look at you, for the first time since before the mission. “You don’t know how much I’ve missed you.”
You raise a brow. “I don’t. You should show me.”
Maverick smiles deviously, poking your side. “I don’t know,” he sings. “I wouldn’t wanna take advantage of you, Lieutenant.”
You groan at his teasing, but it does give you an idea. “Oh, c’mon, Captain. After that mission, I think we both deserve it.”
He smiles wider, beat. “Hm.”
Pulling him in for another kiss, your hands snake under his shirt, sliding up his abs, up to his warm chest. He shudders underneath your touch, complying. He gently begins pushing you backwards towards your bedroom, and you whimper quietly against his mouth at the sudden anticipation.
Maverick sets you down on the bed, and you eagerly lay back against the mattress. He climbs on top of you, mouth still hot and eager against yours. You’re suddenly impatient, so you reach down in between your bodies to yank your pajama pants down. He pulls back to help you remove them, as well as your top, and then begins working his own clothes.
Watching him strip, you decide to continue playing with him. “I haven’t even mentioned how good of a job you did getting us out of there, Captain.” 
He gets his Levi’s and his briefs down at the same time, cocking his head at your obvious bait. “Oh, don’t do that,” he warns playfully, shaking his head. He tosses his clothing aside to climb on top of you again, skin meeting skin. You smirk as you embrace him, knowing very well what he means. Don’t call me Captain, he means. Don’t praise me like that.
It should be the other way around. Instructor praising student. 
Too bad you know him. You know very well that reversing the roles is gonna drive him crazy, and you fully intend on capitalizing. 
“I mean it,” you continue, moaning quietly as his mouth begins leaving wet trails in between your breasts, down your sternum. “You were great.”
At your words, he makes a satisfied noise, his head traveling lower and lower down your body, mouth still trailing all the way down. It’s hard not to whimper the lower he gets, his fingers delicately caressing your hip bone. Your body grows excited for him, needy, actually, wanting to feel every bit of him against you. 
Maverick has other plans, however. You gasp when he spreads your legs open and immediately ducks his head, eagerness overtaking him. His mouth slots against your cunt, tongue hot and wet. He licks into you, sucks at you harshly, and repeats the pattern, eyes looking up at you for approval. 
“Fuck!” you cry out, momentarily throwing your head back, your back arching. Still, you return your gaze to his. “That feels so—feels so good, Captain Mitchell.”
He very audibly moans against your core at that and it sends a vibration up your entire body, your hips jerking in pleasure. 
He continues lapping at you hungrily, showing you how much he missed you, indeed.
“N–need you so bad all the time,” you stammer, squirming profusely. Just talking to talk.
His grip around your thighs tightens just a bit, his eyes unmoving and stuck on your beautiful expressions of pleasure. 
When he starts to delve his tongue inside you, you try not to scream.
“God, Cap—Captain, please—” Your hands absentmindedly travel down to grab his hair. “Fuck me. Now, now, please.”
One more long swipe of his tongue over your clit and he’s pulling back, climbing over you again to meet you for a kiss. You taste yourself on his tongue, mouths slick and noisy against each other as he works his cock through his fist down below, blindly lining himself up against you. It takes a second for him to find you, but when he does, your vision blurs in ecstasy. 
Burying his face in between your neck and shoulder, Maverick gasps at how tight you feel; perhaps he’d forgotten after going a while without this. That, or you’ve got him spellbound, gripped by your words and praises. He almost aches for the rush, and begins thrusting into you immediately. It’s easy enough, considering how wet his mouth has left you. His moans spill louder than usual, mixed with the hot and filthy noises from below.
“That’s it,” you whine, breath catching in your throat. “Just like that, Captain.”
He snarls, his nose rubbing up and down the length of your neck with each sharp thrust. 
He knows very well what it is you’re doing, but he has no intention of stopping you now.
“So so good—fuck!” you continue, fingernails slightly digging into his shoulders as his pace roughens. “You take such good care of me.”
Something like a whine comes out of him, enthralled entirely by your choice of words. He’s gonna have to work hard not to cum soon, to hold it together for you. 
“Oh, sweetheart,” he groans in response, squeezing his eyes shut and gritting his teeth.
Maverick’s pace remains relentless, and frankly, you’ve put him here. Grounding his hips into you over and over, he exhales sharply as you clench around him. You still hold on as tight as you can, wanting to push him to his limit before cumming yourself. It’s your self-proclaimed mission tonight.
“Mav,” you whine out, eventually too dazed to remember you were supposed to call him Captain. “Mav.. you feel so—nghh, you feel so good inside me.”
He bites down hard on his lip, a hand balling the sheets into a fist. He’s trying to hold it, trying to get you there first, but there’s absolutely no way he’s going to make it. Not if you keep talking like that. 
Just a little more..
A thought pops into your head. Somehow, through the white hot blur overtaking every bit of your senses.
“Best pilot I’ve ever flown with,” you manage, voice shaky.
Maverick cums, hard and suddenly, a loud groan next to your ear. You’re eager to let it go, doing so right with him. Your heels dig into his lower back, legs jittering as it washes over you. You wail out, feeling the tension escape both of your bodies. You pull him down to slot your mouths together again, murmuring incoherently against his tongue.
He’s almost trembling when he pulls out and pulls back from the kiss. Still hovering above you, green eyes stare you down as he pants, trying to catch his breath. “You mean that?” he huffs. “Or was that just for the moment?”
Mixed with the remnants of your orgasm, you burst into a fit of giggles. “No, I meant everything.”
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end3rs-eye · 4 months
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Trolls Band Together and the Way it Presents Family Relations
Do you ever watch a movie then get possessed and write a 1623 word long essay about the complicated nuances of sibling relationships? ….me neither
Before we get into it I’m just going to say that a boy band made out of teens and children is never going to end well (look up the jackson 5 if you don’t know who they are already). Seriously, who let them do this? Also as a disclaimer I am the oldest of two so I will obviously not have as much experience with the position of the middle child or the youngest. This is written with the rough estimate of bro-zone ages as John Dory (~19), Bruce/Spruce (~17), Clay (~15), Floyd (~14), Branch (~5). Here's why I’m going with these: link. This got a little (a lot) out of hand but I hope you enjoy :]]
John Dory
John Dory’s role in the family is the leader, the responsible one. He embodies the oldest child syndrome, defined as: Obsession, desire for perfection, high self-esteem, or pressure to meet parents' expectations (link). For the most part John Dory is the closest thing they have to an adult (excluding Grandma who didn’t seem like she was doing much). Keep in mind he’s in his late teens in Bro-zone. He’s given this HUGE amount of responsibility of watching his four younger brothers and isn’t really given credit for it, only being “the bossy one”. This is mentioned once in the movie during their fight on the bus, but isn’t really mentioned afterwards or anything. This is pretty typical for the oldest sibling. Having to take on huge amounts of responsibility at a young age. 
John Dory wants his brothers to be happy so he pushes them to be perfect. He forgets there are other ways to be than just perfect. He ended up pushing them and pushing them until he had pushed them all away. Because of this want, this need to be perfect, John Dory ends up not realizing that people, including himself, are allowed to change. This is seen with his constant babying of branch and deadnaming of Bruce. He even says “Well, I wasn’t allowed to change! I’m the oldest. I had to be the leader” 
Bruce/Spruce
Bruce is introduced as the hearthrob with chiseled abs. There are a couple of main features that people associate with the heartthrob character. Hot, irresponsible, and noncommittal. Out of all Bro-zone members, Bruce has the most healthy relationship with his boy band history. He balances what he hated in Bro-zone with what he liked. He disguards his name and any association with the band (although his reaction to John Dory calling him Spruce shows that he is recognized from time to time).  He settles down quicker than any other member, something that goes directly against heartthrob stereotypes and has an (frankly unbelievable) amount of children. But despite separating himself from Bro-zone, Bruce stays in the spotlight in his co-ownership of Vacay Island. 
Clay
Clay falls into the common comedy relief middle child trope. Clay is also the one that suffers the most from stereotyping during the Bro-zone era. The audience's first introduction of Clay is him being told that he needs to continue being the funny one despite his protests. 
This is made even more evident when he’s introduced post Bro-zone breakup. Clay spends the majority of the 20 years apart being the opposite of the fun guy. He feels like he has something to prove. Clay tries his hardest to distance himself from Bro-zone and in the end he dedicates years to it. His entire personality is trying to escape the stereotypes he was put in as a teen.
Floyd
I have SO MANY feelings about Floyd. He’s the one in the Bro-zone that we get the most character development (other than Branch of course). Floyd’s role in the family is the mediator. He’s the one who watches for the other’s mental health and steps in when John Dory gets a little too intense. In the opening scene he not only checks in with John Dory, telling him to take deep breaths, he also helps Little Branch through some first show nerves. It doesn’t seem like this is the first time either. Floyd is also the one that seems most reluctant to break up the band and to leave Branch alone so it’s clear how much he cares for Branch. He ends up being the rock of the family. Branch tells Poppy that Floyd would be the one brother that he’d be willing to go on another adventure for.*
*I’m not sure if this is actually true, Branch also might do this for his other brothers but definitely not as willingly
Comparatively, Floyd changed the least after the band broke up. He takes a mediator role even in Velvet and Veneer’s relationship and continues to show a people pleasing, other-people-first attitude. This proves true to the real life people pleaser experience, these habits stick around long after leaving the environment that created it. Velvet and Veneer stealing Floyd’s talent is a metaphor for the way that people take and take from a selfless person like Floyd until the person is completely burnt out. Some, like Veneer, are more worried about the person's health but still end up taking it. Others, like Velvet, don't care and take it without thought. 
Another key factor with Floyd is his selfless, self-sacrificial nature. During both John Dory and Branch’s visits to him in the dressing room, Floyd insists that they leave him to save themselves despite his life being in danger. 
Branch
Branch is basically abandonment issues personified. Okay it’s a little more complicated than that but when you get down to it yeah. When I think about Branch, maybe 6 years old, in a boyband it makes me think of family vlog channels. IT’S SO INCREDIBLY UNHEALTHY. I promise I’m normal about this (lying).
Of course these problems start with the fact that he was ACTUALLY ABANDONED??? Then these abandonment issues are only accentuated by his grandma’s death. Whether or not Floyd meant to, he put the weight of taking care of Grandma on Branch’s shoulders. This just means he felt worse being the major cause of her death. This creates the feeling that he’s not only been abandoned again (this time in death) he feels like it’s his fault. Fun!
Branch shows a very interesting combination of self isolation and building his life around making people stay. Particularly his brothers. Branch hides in the fear of being abandoned again, first from the outside world and then from Poppy in his refusal to open up. At the same time he says he doesn’t want them [his brothers] to come back into his life then makes a bunker based on the base they wanted to build together. He keeps wearing Floyd’s old jacket and he holds onto the dream they once had. I mean for someone who claims to want his brothers out of his life did you SEE those puppy dog eyes when they told him they were planning to separate after rescuing Floyd.
Branch’s actual place in the family is the baby of the family. Although this label may have fit him 20 years ago, Branch has long outgrown it. Not that anyone else cares (other than Floyd). His family continues to treat him as the baby and ignore his maturity and needs. Upon reuniting with his older siblings Branch is promptly picked up, pinched, and generally treated like a child. Even Clay and Bruce who except each other in the ways that they’ve changed, still treat Branch like a small child. Now he feels like he has to prove that he isn’t a child, i.e. refusing the pacifier from Baby Diamond over and over again. 
In conclusion, Trolls Band Together is a wonderful movie that presents common band stereotypes and the ways that being put in boxes affect the real people behind the band. It highlights people stuck in their boxes, John Dory as the leader and Floyd as the sensitive people-pleaser. It also shows those who try (to vairing degrees of success) escape the boxes, Branch as the baby, Bruce as the heartthrob, and Clay as the funny one.
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yanderehsr · 6 months
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Assalaam alaikum (its a traditional greeting from where I’m currently staying) This is my angsty request:
Can I request yandere ex-fiance sylvain x betrothed reader. For context, Sylvain and reader were betrothed at a young age by their families to conjoin the families. We all know how sylvain hated being his family and seen as crest stud so he will hate reader too who bears a crest and is part of the reason why he is being force to marry early. Reader on the other hand is dutifully fulfilling their role as sylvain’s fiancé as they don’t want any of their siblings to suffer in their place. Reader cooks sylvain’s favorite food, invites him for teas and all kinds of couple activities. Sylvain being himself decides to flirt with other girls despite having a fiancé already and is skirt chaser with new girls every week just to spite reader and his father. Seeing how their fiancé doesn’t even respect them as a person and is often caught in indecent scandals, reader is hurt as they’re the only ones trying to make something good in the unfortunate situation but is hated by sylvain. One day reader after being stood up by sylvain once again is comforted by one of the kinder students (ashe, dedue or ignatz even) and they fell genuinely in love with the student. How does sylvain feel that reader is no longer trying to make the relationship work and is now interested in other men and frankly speaking replace him in their heart? How would he get the reader back?
-Thank you for reading my request (I’m so excited that you’re doing three houses, do you still remember the anon that sent the jing yuan x neglected wife reader request, that was me. It was such a long time ago, and your blog has grown since then. This request has similar vibes but I see Sylvain to be the kind of yandere that needs a wake up call to snap into yandere mode)
*Gasp*, so it's you who requested that, nice knowing that you still read from me, Sylvain is actually one of my favorite fe3h characters, 4th place in fact😆
Hope you'll enjoy😄
Trigger Warning: Yandere, Obsessive behaviour, Possessive behaviour
The arrengement happened before either of you were born, that didn't mean that Sylvain didn't hate this situation, he hated it more than anything else, and the only thing he could take his anger out on was you, it was stupid and even he knew that, but he was a child and that was all he could do.
Sylvain ignored you, he hated you, sure it was the situation he really hated but it was you it effected, the two of you should be a couple but this whole situation had made you feel lonlier than ever before. You had to go through with his angry looks and indifferent responses for so so long.
"Just go away, I don't have time for you today"
But that didn't mean that you didn't try, you tried so damn hard to make this not only easier for Sylvain but for you as well, if this was going to happen then why not make it a happy relationship at the very least, so you cooked for him, you stood up for him and what did you get in return, he ignored you, flirted with others and left you alone, over and over again, it was tiring but you held out, or you thought you could at least.
"I-I just don't understand what he has against me"
"There there, I am here to listen to each and every word, so vent all you want"
You had met Ignatz at yet another ball Sylvain had left you at, yet another party where everyone would laugh at you as soon as he left and you were all alone, that's when you met Ignatz who allowed you to rant about it, get everything you had been holding in for the last 10 years off your chest.
*THUMP* *THUMP*
A new spark had been ignited that day, not for Sylvain but for the kind boy who listened to you and comforted you when you needed it, he treated you with respect and kindness, much different to your fiance.
Someone who did take notice of this was Sylvain, you who were such a constant in his life was suddenly spending less and less time with him, you smiled at him less and less, and one day it had all dissapeared... he would admit, he missed it, missed you.
But Sylvain saw you with Ignatz, saw your smile not be directed at him your fiance, but at Ignatz, His heart clenched tightly, a painful feeling in his chest as he saw this, for some reason he felt like ripping the boy from the golden deer apart and get you back, he felt jealous.
Sylvain through jealousy realises what he had, and what he is losing right now, someone to love, someone that treated him with kindness, he feels saddened that he has pushed you away, why did he do that. Maybe it was too late now... you were leaving him...
... Wait you were still his fiance, you were still his, this arrangement was made by not one but two nobles, you couldn't break this off that easely, he will be better for you, he promises, Sylvain cleans up his act, stops flirting with others, now he just needs you to stop cheating on him and he will finally have happiness, with you tied to his side through marriage.
"You need to remember I am you fiance, our love was destined since birth, nothing will sepperate us, I will admit that I have acted stupid so far, but just because I have acted stupid doesn't mean you can cheat on me"
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birdiesaves · 23 days
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THE MARTIAN ( novel by andy weir ) change as necessary !
mankind reaching out to send people to another planet for the very first time and expand the horizons of humanity blah, blah, blah. 
i’m pretty much fucked. 
they got the parades and fame and love of the world, i got a firm handshake and a hot cup of coffee when i got home.
i would only be “in command” of the mission if i were the only remaining person.
what do you know? i’m in command.
it wasn’t your fault. you did what you had to do. 
in your position i would have done the same thing. 
it was a ridiculous sequence of events that led to me almost dying.
everyone thinks i’m dead. 
ok, i’ve had a good night’s sleep, and things don’t seem as hopeless as they did yesterday.
i won’t be able to whip something up with tinfoil and gum.
fear my botany powers!
but hey, time is the one thing i’ve got.
i wonder if they'll ever find out what really happened.
i’ll spare you the math. the answer is _________
bleh. i’m going to bed
my life depends on you
i played a lot of dungeons and dragons.
i have an idiotically dangerous plan 
i suppose i’ll think of something. or die.
the answer is: i don’t know.
all i accomplished today was thinking up a plan that’ll kill me
also, i have duct tape. 
after a search of everyone’s personal items i found my answer.
that was sarcasm, by the way.
this all sounds like a great idea with no chance of catastrophic failure.
do you have any idea the magnitude of shitstorm this is gonna be?
how come aquaman can control whales? they’re mammals! 
i expected it to be cold, but jesus christ!
now, on to my next task: sitting around with nothing to do for 12 hours.
i ask for a picture and i get the fonz?
the whole world’s been rooting for you. 
really looking forward to not dying. 
please watch your language.
sorry we left you behind, but we don't like you.
you're sort of a smart-ass.
your request for “anything, oh god anything but disco” is denied.
no. you’ll fuck it up and die.
i took it apart, found the problem, and fixed it.
i don’t see anything... i can hear it, but... it’s down here somewhere, but i don’t know where.
the subtle and refined “hurl my body at the wall” technique had some flaws. 
named after the greek goddess who traveled the heavens with the speed of wind. she's also the goddess of rainbows.
i'm not giving up. just planning for every outcome. it's what i do.
your poster outsold the rest of ours combined.
why are you such a nerd?
you should try to be more cool. wear dark glasses and a leather jacket. carry a switchblade.
you started my training by buying me a beer.
so now i have to do boring-ass experiments with test tubes and zzzzzzzzzz....
frankly, i suspect you're a super villain.
just once i'd like something to go to plan, ya know?
no? ok... what was that!? oh, nothing? ok...
for now i just want to go home.
there's always hope
are we just watching a tragedy play out?
you’ll survive this. i don't know how, but you will. 
i've defiled enough historical sites for now.
tomorrow night, i'll sink to an all new low!
tomorrow night, i'll be at rock bottom!
be a smart-ass to a guy seven levels above you. see how that works out.
i remember when you were shy
the attitude comes with the job
and by “enjoying” i mean “hating so much i want to kill people.”
there aren't many people who can say they've vandalized a three billion dollar spacecraft. but i'm one of them.
what's our role in all this? if something goes wrong, what can we do?
how do you come up with this shit?
i admit it's fatally dangerous, but consider this: i'd get to fly around like iron man.
i need you to come back in and make a bomb.
i knew that guy was a mad scientist!
i think we should just go with my iron man idea.
well if you won't let us then- wait... wait a minute... i'm looking at my shoulder patch and it turns out i'm the commander. 
give me a minute. you're the first person i've seen in ______.
i think about the sheer number of people who pulled together just to save my sorry ass, and i can barely comprehend it.
i represent progress, science, and the interplanetary future we’ve dreamed of for centuries. 
they did it because every human being has a basic instinct to help each other out. it might not seem that way sometimes, but it’s true.
yes, there are assholes who just don’t care, but they’re massively outnumbered by the people who do. 
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thelightsandtheroses · 4 months
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Secret Smile: Homecoming (Chapter Ten)
Javier Peña x female reader
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Summary: Before returning to Colombia to get things right this time, Javi’s childhood best friend asks him to keep an eye out for his sister while they’re both stationed in the embassy. Only you don’t need Javier to keep an eye on you. Your role as a new legal advisor is all about keeping an eye on him after all. Sparks fly, lines will be drawn and broken and there’s everything to lose.
Word Count: 2.8k Chapter Warnings - 18+ blog, passing mention of differences in familial status, slight secret relationship, discussions of dismissal/quitting jobs/workplaces and injustice, mentions of sex. Reader has a backstory and family but no physical descriptions. Notes - This has been a long time coming and for anyone still out there reading this, thank you and I hope it’s worth the wait. The past few months have been particularly tough IRL which has made writing Blue's work stresses pretty triggering and difficult and then made me weirdly superstitiuous about even opening the wip file. That said, the muse finally hit, I decided to fight my anxiety about it and here we are.
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You didn’t have a plan. Not really. Rather your plan was merely the rough semblance of an idea, a delicate decision tree that was completely reliant on people caring and wanting to do the right thing.  That, you realise now, may have been a mistake.
Frankly, Plan A had failed so long ago, you are probably somewhere around O or P in the alphabet now.
Whatever you had thought you would do though, it didn’t work. The best result you’ve negotiated, and one that was hard fought, is to have officially resigned, rather than be dismissed. Your time with that office and career aspirations are dead though.  
Sometimes that’s what happens. You live in a world where perhaps certain victories are pyrrhic, your heroes don’t always prevail - or, if they do, there’s a cost. It’s one you’d pay again. It was the right thing to do.
Only a sense of integrity doesn’t pay the bills or prevent awkward conversations with your family. You’re going to have move in with your parents again because Rafa won’t have room at his house. You need to think of a way to frame this to them all.
There’s been a cold spell in DC. You can feel it still ghosting the air as you take a sip of coffee, clutching the to-go cup tightly  between your hands. It’s a change to the humidity of Colombia, the familiar heat of Texas. You remember what it felt like you first moved here years ago and how novel the snow had seemed, how romantic thick jumpers and hot chocolate by a fireplace had felt.
You look over at the building ahead of you.
Javi won’t be long.
This is the last time you’ll be in front of this building, you’ve left it for the last time and that chapter of your life is truly over. You can barely remember who you were when you first stepped into those doors anyway.
You notice Javi leaving. You watch him loosen his tie as he leaves the building, making his way towards you.
“Hi,” you say gently. “All wrapped up?” You try and read any emotions on his face; whether his meetings went as smoothly as you hoped.
“All wrapped up,” Javi says, before kissing you deeply.
“Nice try to distract me,” you say, “but you didn’t tell me how it went.”
Javi groans into your neck. “Well, Spencer offered to make my resignation go away and for me to go to Mexico.”
“Mexico?” you ask, alarmed. Javi told you he couldn’t do this anymore, that he’d reached the end of his career with the DEA. Selfishly you have only just started this with him, you don’t want to  lose it yet, you don’t want a long-distance relationship just now.
“Yeah.” There’s a bitter note in his voice that signals there’s more to this, more to what was said than a simple job offer.
“What did you say?” Is it over already? Is it over before you and him even had a chance to really know what the two of you could be? Will Javi go to Mexico while you return to Laredo without a job, without him?
Practically, you will understand if he says yes. You might not agree - you don’t agree, but you won’t say that unless he expressly asks.
You steel yourself for his next words. This was just a fling, stress relief, a stress response even. It doesn’t mean anything to him. He hopes you can still be friends.
You will smile, you will agree. You will lie. 
Javi looks over at you quizzically, shifting his hand so he can entwine his fingers with yours. “I’m officially no longer a DEA employee. My - my time there is over.” 
Relief courses through you. “Oh. Are you alright?”
“Are you?” Javi asks.
You pause, leaning into Javi and his warm body. In all honesty, you’re not sure. It isn’t just the job, or loss thereof, and the way your time in Colombia bought up so many demons from before. It’s not that you’ve been directly involved, or even witnessed, the most terrifying aspects of Javi’s work or time in Colombia. It’s more that you’ve lost something.
You’ve lost that faith, that certainty in a system of justice, in checks and balances. You don’t believe like you used to. There’s this cynical edge to your thoughts, this sense of sadness and futility that justice isn’t what you thought it was.
You’re tired, burnt out and you have no clue what to do next.
But then there’s Javi.
 “I will be,” you say, pulling away from him before immediately reaching for Javi’s hand so the two of you can walk away from this building for the last time.
Together.
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You thought you would show Javi the city you used to live in. There were coffeeshops, restaurants, walks you wanted to share with him. Moments to make together in this strange in-between time before you return to Laredo.
You’ve barely left your hotel room though. Restaurants were abandoned in lieu of room service fries, a club sandwich and salad. Strolls across tourist attractions have been discarded in favour of another kiss, another touch, another moment with Javi.
You tell yourself it’s because who knows when you’ll have time like this again. You tell yourself your feelings and this situation are completely under control.
Either way, the two of you are insatiable. It could be the relief of there being a firm line between Colombia and now, it could be making up for lost time.
Javi is the best thing the year has bought you so far. He makes it all worthwhile. You’re sure of that, even if the thought scares you.
You lean back against the pillow, as you try and catch your breath.
“How long do we have?” you ask.
“Until our flight?” Javi asks, kissing down your neck to your collarbone. “We need to check out in a couple of hours and then we’ve got a changeover in Dallas, but we should land before its dark.”
“Okay, I should go pee, clean up a bit,” you say, sitting up. “Water?”
“Water,” Javi confirms, placing a hand over his head as he collects himself. You like looking at him like this; the way the hotel room light hits his skin, still glistening with sweat, the look in his eyes, the way his hair is slightly undone and curls at the ends.
You get out of the bed, tugging a hotel robe around you as you walk to the bathroom. When you return, you pour two glasses of water and hand one to Javi as you sit back on the bed.
“So,” you say, before taking a sip of your water.
“So,” Javi repeats slowly, looking you over with care and concern. “Have you -” he falters.
You look at him curiously. “What, Javi?”
“Are you - are you coming back here? Or Austin? Or - are you sticking around?”
It never occurred to you. For all your anxieties about Javi leaving you for another job, you never thought he’d have the same worry about you.
“Well, the good thing is that even a town like Laredo probably needs a lawyer or two.”
“Oh, yeah?”
You nod and watch the way his face softens. His smiles are rare, but they’re so worth it. They light up his whole face, make an already attractive man even more attractive.
“I think I need a change though and maybe I can at least figure that out back in Laredo.”
“That’s good. Are you ready for this?”
You make a face. You’re starting to think you would rather spend your time grappling with legal systems and international diplomacy than this. “To move back in with my parents with no job? Oh Javi, absolutely not.”
An unwelcome thought suddenly hits you. What do you tell your families about you and Javi? It’s still so new and you’re still figuring out what any of it means. Part of you is worried that without the connection of Colombia, of work, maybe he won’t want you for much longer. Maybe it’s not enough to make something real.
“Do we tell people back home about us yet?” you ask. ��I mean, do you want to? Or do we .. should we just keep this for us for a bit? Figure everything out?”
“What do you want to do, Blue?”
“I don’t know,” you reply honestly. There’s been so much change, so much anxiety. Javi’s been this amazing bubble and you know you feel something strongly for him. You know it feels like it could be something. You’re used to decision trees as a lawyer; you feel like you know where this is heading, you like that direction to.
You like who you are with Javi. So why are you scared to say that right now?
You stare down at your glass of water, wishing you could craft the right legal argument, the right way forward.
“We’ve got time, Blue,” he says calmly, “That’s something the two of us definitely are going to have right now in Laredo.”
“Well, I will. Didn’t you say you were going to help your Pops. Be a rancher?” You raise an eyebrow at the thought of that. It’s an appealing image though, you can’t lie. Javi all sweaty and working hard, you remember that day in Curacao and how he looked in the pink shirt after running around the town.
“We can figure this out on our own time,” he says, “I want to. I don’t want this to end right now though.”
“Neither do I.”
“So we’re agreed on that?”
You nod.
Javi leans over you, taking the glass from your hands and moving you so he’s on top of you. “Well, we’ve still got some time before we need to check out.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah.”
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Laredo, TX
It feels like déjà vu. Another party in Laredo, another homecoming where it sounds like a success but feels like a failure. Another day of standing around the people Javi grew up with and feeling like a stranger.
He’s changed. Colombia’s changed him again and again and again.  He thinks it’s something he has to wear; a solid, distinguishing marker of who Javi once was and who he has become. Before and After Colombia.
Laredo hasn’t changed much in the last year. His father’s home is almost exactly the same. It’s reassuring somehow; this stalwart unchanging community. His dad is driving the same truck, his room is the same as he left it.  Everything even smells the same.
Time stops then starts again.
The prodigal son has returned once more. Javi supposes at least he’s here sooner than last time, at least his Pops can see he’s trying.
He is trying. He’s been trying for so long.
He’s home and he’s not sure what difference he’s made at all, a point only made more obvious when Mike Spencer confirmed that his fear the cartels Javier and his team had helped bring down were nothing in the grand scheme of things.
He’s failed. He couldn’t put it right. It’s why he went back after all - though if he’s honest he didn’t know how to do anything else.
He doesn’t know how to do anything else.
It’s not for him now though- he’s done. Javi’s given it all. It feels like he’s been sucked dry by the DEA over the past decade. He has nothing left to give them.
It’s not all terrible though - he looks over at you. You are the impossible bright side in all of his mess.
Officially this party is a joint welcome home and
He takes a sip of his beer as he watches you in the corner of his eye. You’re dancing in the garden with your niece, smiling widely and laughing.
You meet his eyes and he notices the smile; the way your eyes widen for just a second, the smile he’s never seen before. Not before you and him became something else anyway.
You take his breath away.
He wants to walk over to you straight away, to take you in his arms and just be reminded that you’re real, you’re here. He wants to kiss you and lead you straight to your bedroom, to taste you, have you, to know you again and again.
He knows so much more about you now; the way your body feels, the way you like to be kissed, touched, fucked. He knows how you sound when you wake up in the morning, the way you take your coffee each day. He knows you. In the past weeks, he’s taken to wanted to commit every detail of your body to his memory, just in case.
He can’t approach you though. Not now. Not here. Not yet.
Rafa pulls up the chair next to Javi. “It’s good to have you back, Javi.”
“Good to be back,” Javi replies automatically.
“Are you sticking around for a while?”
“I think so. Pops could do with some help on the ranch.”
Rafa raises his eyebrows. “I didn’t think - I mean, that’s great, Javi. So, you’re done with the DEA?”
“Yeah, it was time to make a change.”
“Well, I guess once you’ve taken down two cartels, it’s hard to know where to go next,” he replies wryly. Javi’s always liked that about Rafa; he’s quick thinking and smart. He knows how to put people at ease too. Javi supposes that’s an important part of being a doctor, especially being the family doctor in a town like this.
He’s sleeping with Rafael’s sister. While the two of you were in Colombia, or DC, he could forget that so easily. You were just Blue to him. You are just Blue to him.
Only you’re also his friend’s sister and in a small community like this, he’s not sure how this will be received. He’s not sure how Rafa will really feel about the two of you. Maybe he shouldn’t have told Rafa quite as much as he did before he went to Colombia.
It's not just that. Standing there in your parents' home, he's struck by the differences between your families. It's not featured in his friendship with Rafa, but there's no denying your family is a different type of affluent to his own. The ranch does well, his Pops runs it really well, but your family is doctors and lawyers and businessmen. He's not sure where he stands in contrast.
It makes sense now, why you asked that question of him in DC. Why you’d wondered aloud about whether they should tell people straight away. At first, he’d thought you were having second thoughts.
He gets it now.
“Was my sister okay out there?” Rafa asks.
“We didn’t spend much time together. Different departments.” A story you’ve agreed, but he hates this already. He wants Rafa to know what you’re like, how good at your job you are.
“Oh. Did you try and keep an eye on her?”
“When I saw her? Yes. But Rafa, she was more than capable of looking after herself from what I saw.”
“I know. I’m just glad she’s home. Glad you both are. Everyone was proud, but - I know my parents worried about her, know your pops worried about you.”
Before Javi can add anything else, you walk over with Sofia who is keen to head inside and regale her abuela with exactly what she’s been up to.
“I spent most of my time on the other side of the embassy at Medellin,” you say smoothly, looking around before leaning against the porch post. “Lots of paperwork and calls.” Javi hates how you play down your impact, of what you did and how you really helped.
“Oh, yeah?”
“Mhhmm,” you say easily, your eyes meeting Javi for just a second. There’s a slight smile in your expression, almost imperceptible but Javi sees it.
“Well, I’m glad the two of you are back safe.”
“Me too.”
“Would have been nice if you’d worked together though. I mean what were the chances? Two people from Laredo in the same place.” Kismet, that’s what you called it one day, right? That’s what Javi sees it as now.
Rafa looks over to the inside of your parents’ home. “I should go check on Sofia, see you in a bit, Javi. It’s good to have you home.”
It’s just the two of you on the porch now.
“So …” you begin with a soft smile. “Enjoying the party?”
Javi shakes his head. “It’s kind, but -”
“I know.” He knows you do too.
He stands up and moves to look out from the porch, standing next to you. His hand is so close to yours and he notices how you subtly move so your hands are touching.
Oh, this is going to be interesting.
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Tag List
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absolutebl · 4 months
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This Week in BL - 2 GREAT Shows but everything else is kinda blah
Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top. Happy new year, BLabies!
Jan 2024 Wk 1
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Ongoing Series - Thai
Last Twilight (Fri YT) ep 9 of 12 - This show is really earning its chops, and these actors are executing beautifully. I think this is a great BL, and it reminds me quite a bit of ATOTS, only the physical comfort between the actors is more genuine and easy to watch. Unfortunately a guitar came out. Nice communication tho.
That was a very lovely romantic sex scene. Very prettily done. Classy boys, very classy.
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Gah what a beautiful final scene with Day saying the last thing he wants to see is Mhork. Pure unadulterated romance of the highest order.
The Sign (Sat YT) ep 7 of 12 - If killer, why hot? Poor Tarn compelled to try to rescue everyone else from their fate, because he cannot save himself from his.
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Meanwhile Phaya is finally learning that you catch more water snakes with honey lube than vinegar.
Stellar confession from Phaya brutally honest and very fated mates.
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And another lovely sex scene, so I guess that was a vision and not a fantasy Tharn had.
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Lets be clear those two shows were GREAT everything else this week was kinda blah.  
For Him (Thurs iQIYI) ep 6 of 12 - I find the backstory very odd. Are they twins? What happened to Blue? Am I meant to care? Do I care? 
Twins the series (Fri GaGa) ep 10 of 12 - I mostly just feel sorry for First. He’s so rightfully confused. Zee/Sprite keeps blowing hot and cold because they two different people! The after sex cuddle was cute. 
Pit Babe (Fri iQIYI) ep 8 of 14 - Love getting more JeffAlan. Also I switch favorite character allegiances in the trash watch happening here.
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Cooking Crush (Sun YT) ep 6 of 12 - Didn’t air this week and I hardly noticed. 
You and My Stars YT 1 of 2(?) - school kids, love triangle, it’s cute enough.
My Universe (Sun iQIYI) 1626 ep 20 of 24 - Just so boring. 3/10 
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Ongoing Series - Not Thai
VIP Only (Taiwan Fri Gaga) ep 8 of 10 - I’m not into the love triangle. Although I kind of like the new suitor, he’s honest and a good communicator. I appreciate these things in a BL boy. But I begin to wonder if triangles should be left for KBL. Also, this should have been an 8 epper, 10 is too long.
Sahara-sensei to Toki-kun (Japan Fri Gaga) ep 5 of 8 - No ep until Jan 12 
I Became the Main Role of a BL (Japan Sun Gaga) ep 1-3 - AKA BL Drama no Shuen ni Narimashita: Crank Up Hen - A rising star is paired with an (older) former child actor (doesn’t think he’s good enough) in a BL series. It’s fun, built on a dynamic of off screen paralleling the on screen, so near constantly meta. All the tropes are there but are as a result of the filming process. The star turns out to be obsessed with the former actor and very dorky about it. In fact, everyone in this show is a little gremlin weirdo (affectionate). There’s tons of scenery chewing miscommunication drama, slapstick, voice over head hopping, and eccentric sides characters. “And he comes with feathers” applies to a number of my friends. You know I don’t like stories around fan obsession, but otherwise this was enjoyable. 8/10
A nice start to the JBL year. Keep em coming, Japan.  
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It's done I Need to Catch up
What Did You Eat Yesterday Season 2 AKA Kinou Nani Tabeta? Season 2 (Japan Gaga) 10 eps - will binge when I have a spare day.
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It's Airing But...
[INTERNATIONAL] Cherry Magic (Sat YouTube) ep 3 of 12 - yeah Japan put the smack down on our boys. Sadness. You can use a VPN if you like. Read all about it here.
Playboyy (Thurs Gaga) 14 eps - Dear Playboyy, it's not you, it’s me… I hate you. You’re about as deep (and as palatable) as a shot glass of cum. While I'm sure you’re someone’s kink, you're my weakest link. Goodbye. I DNFed this at ep 5. Frankly I'm impressed with myself for getting that far.
Night Dream (Sat YT) 6 eps - It’s a pain to track down and I really didn’t like the first episode so… DNF  
The Whisperer (Sun ????) 10 eps - Thai horror BL that ALSO involves cheating (what joy is mine). I don't think even the perfect single dimple can motivate me to watch. Word is... it's terrible.
7 Days Before Valentine (Weds WeTV) 10 eps - Giving me Luminous Solution vibes. I'm waiting to binge if safe.
Dead Friend Forever (Thai Sat iQIYI) - horror, meh, tell me if it's worth my time?
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In Case You Missed it
All my year end round ups (so far) are as follows:
TOP 10 BL Trends of 2023
Top 10 BL Secondary Pairs of 2023
2023 BLs Best Trope Execution Awards! TOP 10
Best Back Hugs Thailand & Elsewhere
BL 2023 - Cute Bits of Domesticity
BL 2023 - Boys Feeding Boys
BL 2023 - BOOP!
All the BLs Announced for 2023 that didn't happen
Next Week Looks Like This
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Starting This Week:
1/9 Time the series (Thai Gaga, WeTV, Channel 3) 10 eps - MFlow Entertainment brings us yet another "fix the past" narrative. After witnessing the gunning down of his beloved, a heartbroken actor uses a magic pocket watch to go back in time and discover the truth and maybe fix it.
1/11 Although I Love You and You AKA Sukiyanen Kedo Do Yaro ka (Japan Gaga) - Soga, who, after a divorce and relocation to Osaka, seeks solace in dining at 26-year-old Sakae's restaurant. Unbeknownst to Soga, Sakae sees him as more than just a regular customer.
More Coming Jan 2024
Beside You (Thai YouTube)
Love For Love's Sake (Korea ????)- based on the Manhwa ‘Love Supremacy Zone’ by Hwacha. A young man is dropped into a game based off a novel he loves. His mission is to make another player, YeoWoon happy. But then the game starts unfolding completely different from the novel.
Ossans Love Season 2 (Japan ????) - five years later, will anything have changed? This is Japan so... probubly not. I won't be watching this.
Upcoming BLs for 2024 are listed here. This list is not kept updated, so please leave a comment if you know something new or RP with additions.
THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS
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Yes, you SHOULD apologize!
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This was a FANTASTIC moment! Last Twilight
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Night Dream referencing the Shrimp Trope.
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Some didn't like this bit BUT I love a claiming moment, even in a briefing room... especially there.
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I ALSO love a good Grandma Moment in a BL.
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Such a good sex scene. The Sign
(Last week)
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thebnha-auhoard · 5 months
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Still not normal about Kudou and I decided that the best way to not be normal about him is obviously making an au where he lives.
Except he’s the only one of the past OFA users that live. No one else gets to live with him. Why? Because All For One loathes that man for stealing away his brother, for being the cause of his brother’s death. He should die but before that he should suffer. Kudou should suffer for taking what was All For One’s.
So when Kudou and All For One’s confrontation happened, All For One decides that death was too kind for him. So he took him away the moment Kudou fell unconscious.
And then when Bruce dies and he wakes up in the Vestige World, he sees a misty Kudou. And Yoichi just asks if Kudou is safe and okay. And then Bruce tells him that the last he saw of Kudou was him telling him to escape while he holds off All For One.
Both of them look at the misty version of Kudou and have a deep seated dread settle in them.
If you know MAG 172 “Strung Out” from The Magnus Archives then just go and slap that on Kudou but make it worse.
If you don’t then picture this:
You’re on a stage, and you’re an actor. Except not really because you don’t really want to be here or act. The director says that you’re the only one for this role and frankly you have no choice. So you’re up on stage and the director tells you that you’re going to be playing the part of “You”. Yes, “You”. The person you are right now. You’re going to be playing as yourself and you’re going to be playing out every single tragedy, disappointment, and loss in your life. You’re going to relive every single moment and as you play out your role, an audience watches on and laughs at you. They laugh at every single fucking miserable thing you go through and no matter how much you tell them to shut up they don’t. In fact they laugh harder. You play out your miserable life and you continue to play it out and the director applauded you for the wonderful performance but it’s never good enough.
So you keep on acting and at some point you lose track of the amount of acts you’ve been in and slowly you start losing who you really are underneath those plays. You think once or twice you played someone else’s miserable life but you don’t remember. You barely remember your name but you cling onto it because if you lose that then you have nothing. You don’t have anything anymore because you’re an actor and your appearance can change at the drop of a hat if the director commands it.
And despite everything, the audience still fucking laughs.
So you know. Kudou isn’t doing well. He’s still (ambiguously) keeping it together but he isn’t doing well.
Then something changes and Kudou blinks and now there's someone else in front of him. The roof of the Theater is actually caved in. That doesn’t matter though. What matters is that someone new is in front of him.
(In hindsight it was a bad idea to test out how many people can be supported on the very shitty building that Kurogiri brought them in. At the same time all of them were bored and Twice came up with a good way to pass the time so sue them. They went and did it and was entertained for a glorious 30 minutes.
Iguchi has to admit though this was a stupid way to entertain themselves. And he can already see Kurogiri berating him on their choices.
Now though he thinks it’s been a good idea to have the game play out. Because there’s a theater down here. And there’s a person here. And they’re in a show that’s been going on for a million acts and they looked pained.)
Vaguely, Kudou recognizes the person in front of him. The Peerless Thief right? Except it’s been Act…something million now. He can’t remember the number anymore. So that must mean he’s dead already right? But he recognizes Oji and he wants to break down and cry and hug him because they may not have gotten along the best but gods this is the first time someone else that wasn’t some mockery or All For One was in front of him.
(Sako lies and reassures the man in front of him.
He lies and he’s being mistaken for the Peerless Thief and in any other moment he would be thrilled. Flattered even. But all he can focus now is the desperation and the fact that he’s holding tight onto Sako and crying and apologizing for incredibly minor things.
He lies and he wants to throw up because he is clearly not the person this man is looking for. And he wishes he was telling the truth instead of telling lies for momentary comforts.
He wants to ask how he knows his great great grandfather but this isn't the time and all he can do is assure the man that everything will be okay.)
And then he blinks and before he knows it he's out. He thinks he's out at least. He thinks he's out. For all he knows this could be a trick. Another tragedy to play out. Another mask to wear.
(When Kurogiri arrived back at the base with groceries, he was expecting a punched in wall at best and a fire at worst.
What he wasn't expecting was the floor being broken and the League looking like they all came out of a fight. He wasn't expecting a man being supported by Magne. He wasn't expecting the man to panic when they asked for his name and start to, quite literally, glitch in and out of appearances, frantically asking himself who he was and frantically asking himself if he still had his own face.
It took them about an hour to calm him down.
He doesn't know what happened but Kurogiri swiftly moved the League and the man to another safe house.)
Kudou probably shouldn't be trusting a group that literally calls themselves "The League of Villains" but they came through the roof and honestly, Kudou is tired.
So he accepts his situation and goes to sleep on the nearest couch.
He dreams of Bruce and Yoichi and for the rest of his dream, he quietly holds their hands.
-<>-
(anterior sneaking in with art for this au :3, enjoy)
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