#i hope no one like this are following me and if you are either think about the consequences of you inaction or leave

[kelaeri]

The Many Languages of Dick Grayson

Apparently, according to Nightwing #54, he can speak 12, so I went on a little quest to see just how many I could identify.

Starting off with The Essential Batman Encyclopedia, the entry for Dick Grayson lists him as being trained in French, Spanish, Russian, Japanese, Mandarin, and Cantonese with having some proficiency in an unknown Romani dialect. Given there are multiple examples of him speaking these languages throughout the comics, I am inclined to trust this claim. To start, we've got several examples of French (Gotham Knights #14, Detective Comics Annual #12, Nightwing #73, Grayson #10-- also featuring Spanish)

In Grayson #1 he speaks Russian only briefly, but in Detective Comics #36 he speaks it throughout.

As far as the Chinese languages go, while I believe Dick can speak Mandarin and/or Cantonese fairly well (Batman/Superman World's Finest #3), his Hanzi recognition and literacy could use some work.

Similarly, when the Titans head off to Japan in Titans Annual #1, we have Nightwing speaking Japanese in battle; however, when it comes to the prospective job of being a manga translator in Nightwing #125, he claims he doesn't know Japanese, which leads me to believe he is only proficient in speaking Japanese/Chinese and struggles with the writing systems.

So what about the languages not covered in the encyclopedia? To start, we have another romance language: Italian (Nightwing #72).

Followed by some alleged German (Nightwing #51, JLA #44)

And conversations in Farsi (Robin #175)

While I've seen some Tumblr and Reddit posts claim he knows Kikuyu, The Power Company: Manhunter #1 only says he "brushed up" on his Kikuyu before going to Kenya, so it is unknown how much of the language he actually speaks, but to me it doesn't seem likely to be a lot.

He also, to some unknown degree, speaks Tamaranean-- at least enough to hack into an alien computer (Action Comics #842).

As far as unspoken languages go, Dick is fluent in ASL, which is proven numerous times when he communicates with Jericho (New Teen Titans 1984).

And lastly, the two languages that remain rather uncertain are Romani and Cant-- largely due to the nature of the languages themselves and their representation in comics. "Romani," for instance, has several different dialects, and when Devin Grayson introduced it for Dick (Gotham Knights #20-21, Nightwing #91), she never specified which, and based on the lines she wrote, her research into the language was questionable at best. Writers since have recognized Dick's Romani heritage, but have not otherwise suggested he retained much of the language to be considered fluent.

Cant is an even wider term than Romani and can be seen as more of jargon for a particular language than a language itself, sometimes even being called a "pseudo-language." The colloquial term for American circus cant is Carny, or "Carny speak" as Boston Brand puts it in Batman: The Brave and the Bold #14 when he and Nightwing encounter a kid who speaks it.

So... this leaves us with 11 languages Dick has notable proficiency in: English, French, Spanish, Italian, Russian, German, Japanese, Mandarin, Cantonese, Farsi, and ASL. And ~3 languages he has unknown proficiency in: Tamaranean, Kikuyu, Romani, and Carny/Cant (if you want to count it).

Maybe memory-loss Dick was including either Tamaranean or Kikuyu in that count from Nightwing #54, or maybe he knows some other language we haven't seen yet. Given how close the family is to the Al Ghuls, I personally think it would be cool if one of them was Arabic.

But anyway, hope you enjoyed this post! A lot I've seen covering this topic are very surface-level and label some of his more iffy languages as "fluent," so I hope this cleared things up. I've read tons of Nightwing, and I swear there are more examples, but sifting through the 1,000+ comics I've read of him is a lot haha. If y'all know of some others, let me know!

[hedgehog-moss]

hello & good morning/afternoon/night! feel free to ignore this ask if you don't want to or don't know how to answer. i have been following your blog for years now, i think, and i have been accompaning your life through the pictures you post. i always had similar dreams of living in a farm or just in a more "secluded" place in general - hiddem away from big cities, i mean, closest place being a small town or even village, you know - and though i have lived alone for 2 years now i have a lot of fears of living by myself in ambient where there is relatively less people (even if there are neighbors not that far away). yknow, classic fears, of being robbed, my house being broken into, etc etc. once again i know it's a different world and the probability of something like this happening is actually higher in places with a bigger populational number, but have you ever had experiences like this? have you ever felt a similar fear? i'm trying to find out if this is something i really want.

Hi ! I love that I read your message last week right after I fondly reminisced about hearing murder screams in my woods at night. I've been thinking about it and I think regardless of what statistics say, some people feel safer surrounded by people in a town while others feel safer in more secluded places—I mean there's probably a personal temperament aspect to this... I've always loved going out for walks in the middle of the night but I couldn't fully relax doing that in cities, while here I find it so relaxing. It's so dark and quiet it feels like walking at the bottom of the ocean <3 It's the closest I can get to the peaceful life of the sea cucumber. And since I'm alone in this forest and there's no one for several km around I feel like nothing bad can happen to me. But I have city friends who would never consider going for a walk with me in the woods at night.

Can't recommend having a medium-to-large dog enough! Despite his debonair manner Pandolf is a good guard dog—one time that I got to test this was when someone parked their car on the side of the road maybe 300m from my house, and stayed there for almost a week. It wasn't a camper van, just a normal car, and every time I went to see it during the day it was empty, but I saw lights in there at night. I didn't like it at all! Why park here in the middle of nowhere. Near my house. This isn't a convenient spot to fish or anything, so where are you all day...? I remember the night I noticed the light in the car from my window, and I sat in my bed like, okay, someone's over there, but even if he gets to my door I have 2 other ways to get out of the house, my nearest neighbours are like 40min away by foot through the woods, I know my woods better than this guy, I'll be fine.

It's the only time that I recall feeling a bit antsy at night—and Pandolf was very alert as a result, he could tell I was nervous and when I went to close the chicken coop in the evenings he went patrolling all over the place in a way he doesn't usually do. I have a natural talent for not doing anything about problems and hoping they'll go away on their own, but after a few days I eventually told a distant neighbour about this weird car, and he came the next evening to talk to this person—but the car left that same day. And when my neighbour came to tell me he hadn't found the car, it was already dark and he parked his car in front of my house and at first Pandolf refused to let him get out. Even though he knows this neighbour and the guy had half-opened his door and was like "Hey Pandolf it's me!", Pan just stood there growling continuously like Cujo. It was good to see that although he's a really friendly dog, if I'm freaked out he can get quite intimidating.

Other than that one weird car story I've never really felt scared being here alone at night, and I didn't worry about that before moving here either, I was impatient to go on nighttime walks in the woods, rather! But having neighbours I'm on friendly terms with that I can call for help if needed, and whose house I can reach by foot, is reassuring; so I think mostly it's a matter of finding the degree of seclusion you're comfortable with. There are all sorts of gradations between living in a big city and living like the first Desert Father :) Is there any way you could try spending some time alone in a more remote area for temporary stays, like holidays, to see if you get used to it and come to appreciate it, or if you feel safer in more populated places?

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Just One Reason: New at This

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Lloyd Hansen

masterlist - to be added

Summary: A chance encounter at the sandwich shop doesn’t end how you expect.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Lloyd tugs in his ear lobe as you get up to take your empty bowl to the counter. The lone cashier smiles and gives a nervous look past you to the corner. You return to the table and wonder if he has a reputation here. You wouldn't be surprised with his behaviour. 

"Is your ear alright?" You ask as you take the cup of iced tea. 

"Huh?" He turns to you and drops his hand. "Yeah, hearing's f-- off. Just got back from a job and... the machinery was loud." 

"Hm, it could be a busted ear drum. I know someone who had that. He never could hear me but that coulda been the TV too," you shrug. 

"It's fine," he taps his fingers on the table as you stay standing. "So, you headed out?" 

"Yeah, I guess I should. Getting dark." 

"Right," he nods. "Well," he stands and tugs at the bottom of his shirt, shaking off the crumbs. "You need a ride?" 

He zips up his jacket, the collar ending just below his chin. You button up your blue houndstooth coat. "No, I can make it." 

"Wait, you're not walking are you?" He asks as he gathers up the wrapper and napkins. 

"Not too far if I cut behind the barbershop--" 

"Cut behind-- are you serious? You can't be walking down alleys in the dark. Trust me." 

"Oh?" You give him a curious look, "you hang out in dark alleyways a lot?" 

His brow tweaks and his lips twitch, "is that a joke?" 

"Not a very good one," you smile. "I always make it." 

"And this might be the time you don't. Least I can do. You bought me dinner, I feel like I owe you a ride." 

"You don't owe me anything," you assure him. 

"Huh, you're too nice, you know that? You could give a guy the wrong idea." l

"No, I don't think so," you sigh. "Being nice isn't anything but. I hope your enjoyed your dinner." 

"You know what? The chipotle wasn't bad," he says. "So now that's two things. I owe you for paying and for the good advice. What's that you said about paying it forward?" 

Checkmate. Using your own words against you. As it is, you're starting to feel rude for saying no so many times. It would be nice not to have to walk home with your phone light on. 

"Is taking a ride from a strange man better than walking home alone?" You ask, "since you're the expert?" 

"Wow, you can be mean," he snorts. "Reading me like a book." 

“Oh, I’m sorry. I’m kidding.” 

“I know, tootsie roll,” he says, “sweet like candy, aren’t ya?” 

You smile again, “well, you can be too. I’ll take the ride. Thank you.” 

He dumps the garbage in the bin and heads for the door. He lets you out ahead of him. It’s colder than when you got there. 

“It’s cold as... hell out here,” he says follows you out. He points you ahead, “the white one.” 

He blows into his hands and rubs them together. You’re no fan of the cold either but you can see his nose already turning red. You approach the white car; it’s sleek and shiny. You’re not sure what make it is but it must be expensive. 

The doors click loudly, “should be unlocked.” 

You nod and open the passenger door. You sit daintily, wary of the luxury interior. You shut the door just as carefully as he gets in the other side. He grumbles as he starts the engine and flicks switches. 

“Get those seat warmers on,” he says. “Ah, better.” He puts his palms to the blast of warmth from the vent before he grips the wheel. “Help me out, tootsie roll, where am I going?” 

“Right down to Harbour. East.” 

“Harbour East... you kidding me? You were really going to walk there alone?” He scoffs. 

“It’s not so bad once you get to know the area,” you say.  

“How’d you end up there?” He pulls into a three point turn as he reroutes. 

“I guess it’s just where I am right now. Thing’s changed fast and I had to make it work,” you lean into the seat. You’ve never been in a car with seat warmers. 

“Huh, that’s too bad,” he clucks. “You still looking for a place? I know a guy, owns a few properties...” 

“Oh no, it’s okay,” you hum lightly. “Really. It’s nice. I got my own space, I got food, I’m happy as can be.” 

“Simple things, so I’ve heard,” he mutters. 

You let a lull wash over you. Judging by his car, simple isn’t exactly to his taste. 

“So...” you brush your fingertips over your palm, “what do you do for work? You travel? When you mentioned your ear...” 

“Ah, yeah, er,” he squeezes the wheel tighter and coughs, “you know, I’m on the road when I need to be. Work can be sporadic but pays well enough. Specialty type of work.” 

“With loud machinery...” 

“Military engineer. You know, artillery, tanks... whatever,” he peeks over at you as blows through a four-way. 

“Hey, you missed the stop sign,” you crane to see behind you. 

“It’s fine, no one was crossing,” he says. 

“Yeah but... it’s not safe.” You turn forward again and frown. 

He’s quiet again. He sucks his teeth, “fine, you’re right. Not fair of me to offer you a ride then drive like a maniac. I’ll do better.” 

You let out a breath and subtly grab onto the door. Despite his promises, he doesn’t let off the gas. With how quiet the car is, it must be easy to go over the limit.  

He pulls onto Harbour and finally slows, “so, uh, why don’t you give me a call next time you head down to the shop? We could do it again. I’ll be nice this time.” 

“I don’t go too often but sure, I could use a friend,” you perk up and direct him to your building. 

“You telling me you don’t got friends, tootsie roll?” He stops in front of your apartment. 

“I... did. They’re gone now,” you look away. You try not to get to wistful about it. “Anyway, thanks--” 

“Holy f—moley,” he corrects himself as he leans forward to see around you, “this place can’t be up to code--” 

“Lloyd,” you blurt out. “I’m fine. Really. Home safe. Thanks to you.” 

“Mhm, well, friends are supposed to worry about each other, right?” 

“And as your friend, I’m telling you not to worry,” you smile and pull the handle, “have a good night.” 

He huffs as you undo your seat belt, “yeah, good night.” 

[writeonwhiskey]

the skz house: ch 26

a/n: i'm so glad you're all still here with me after that long break. thank you to @bahablastplz for editing. ahhhh i'm getting so nervous for you all to read the next few chapters! alright, fuck it, here we goooo!

[ read chapter 25 here ]

Chapter Twenty-Six: Of Tears and Relapsing

The following morning you untangle yourself from Hyunjin and head straight to the bathroom to wash up. You throw on a pair of black jeans, combat boots and your school hoodie before heading to campus with Jeongin and Allie. You try your hardest to focus on whatever it is your teacher is droning on about, but your thoughts continually shift back to seeing Chan later and having ‘The Talk’.

You consider delaying the inevitable, you could probably talk Jeongin and Allie into making a pit stop on the way back like you did with Changbin and Seungmin what feels like years ago. You know that’s not the right move in this situation, though.

After class, you make it back to the house—walking in like a woman on a mission. You have to rip the band aid off now. Felix lets you know Chan is in the workout room, and that’s exactly where you find him. The house is equipped with two garages—one double, one single. The singular garage is walled off from the larger one and filled with all sorts of workout equipment—a treadmill, power rack, bench press, stationary bike and various kettlebells and weights.

Chan is seated on the bench press, sitting up at an angle and facing the mirror across from him. He turns to you when you enter, and you feel the familiar, heavy thumping of your heart behind your chest as you approach him.

“How was class?” he asks with a smile.

He seems to be in good spirits, at least. However, that doesn’t seem like a good thing knowing what you’ve come here to say to him. You remain hopeful that you can handle this delicately and he will understand where you’re coming from.

“I don’t think I retained much, if I’m being honest,” you reply.

You look around the room for a place to sit, but there aren’t any chairs. Seeing your dilemma, Chan stands from the bench and walks towards you. The sight of him walking to you causes a lapse in your regularly scheduled breathing. He’s clad in a pair of gym shorts and a black muscle shirt, leaving his shoulders, biceps and forearms on full display. His veins are more prominent than normal—accompanied by a slight gleam of sweat covering his exposed skin—showing he has been putting the equipment to use.

When he’s close enough, he puts his hands on your waist and delicately guides you towards the bench. You feel the instinctual pull to touch him, too. To grab him, wrap your arms around him and pull his mouth to yours. But you refrain.

“Sit,” he instructs.

You pull your backpack off, hugging it to your chest and sit sideways on the bench. Chan takes a seat on the treadmill across from you with his legs outstretched in front of him.

“I’m sorry about the other day, I was—” you begin.

“It’s okay,” he interjects, shaking his head.

“No. It’s not,” you proceed. “You were there to prove the exact things I said to be wrong...in hindsight I could have handled it so differently. I am sorry for what I said.”

“You have nothing to apologize for, after everything…but I get it.”

You nod, hoping he really does.

“I never got to properly say it either, so—thank you. For the rose,” you say, opening your backpack in your lap and digging out the card inside. “…and this.”

You hold up the card, the word written on it is facing him. His eyes don’t even acknowledge it, they’re focused on you instead. He arches an eyebrow, though, seeing you take it out of your bag. Perhaps surprised, or pleased, to know you’ve kept it close since he gave it to you.

“This is fucking heavy, Chan,” you say when you realize he isn’t going to speak first.

He looks down at the ground in front of him, tearing his gaze away from you for the first time. He remains completely still; the only sign of movement is when he blinks.

“It’s true, though,” he says softly.

“Why? Why me? Why all of a sudden? You tell me I have to be the one to stop this, to stop letting you ruin me, and now this?”

“It’s not all of a sudden…I don’t think,” he contemplates. “I’ve just given up trying to fight against it now.”

“Do you realize what you’re asking me, though?” you place the card back in your backpack. “To let you throw away your life for me?”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing…”

“It is.”

His face contorts at that, offended.

“I mean, the sentiment is beautiful, don’t get me wrong,” you say with your hands up. “But the actual thought of it is awful. I could never let you do that. What happens if we don’t work out when the school year is over? We have to be realistic about this.”

Perhaps Changbin should give him a lecture on simulacrum, too. Maybe that would help get him to see through the lust filled haze that consumes the room when it’s just the two of you.

“That wouldn’t happen,” he says incredulously, finally looking into your eyes again.

You take a deep breath. You want to appreciate his optimism. You want to smile at his words, to tell him you agree. You can’t do either, though. You can’t encourage this behavior. For his sake, whether he realizes it or not. There’s a contract in place that clearly outlines you are forbidden from being with him when this is over. Letting him choose you, means letting him throw away everything else.  

He stands from the treadmill and approaches you again.

“Do you think I would let it?” He asks, stopping in front of the bench. His eyes are still locked on yours as he places his hands on your knees, slowly spreading them apart so he can step between them. “I’d make you so happy, y/n.”

His russet brown eyes are soft, almost pleading, as he speaks. That, combined with his hands on you, is almost enough to unravel your restraint.

You gently remove his hands from your knees and shake your head, looking down at the ground.

“I can’t.”

He hooks a finger under your chin and tilts your head up.

“You could.”

You can see the sincerity in his eyes now. He means this wholeheartedly. It should feel more assuring to hear, but it leaves you feeling terrified. You’ve never had anyone care about you this way or shower you with such devout proclamations.

“I won’t, Chan,” you shake your head again, keeping your eyes on him this time. He needs to know you mean it.

His eyebrows come together as his lips turn down ever so slightly. It’s clear he’s not used to rejection, least of all from you. He drops his hand from your chin and takes a small step back.

“Okay,” he gives you a curt nod.

You watch him carefully as he continues to retreat from you.

“Just ‘okay’?” you repeat. “You know I care about you, that’s not what I’m saying here. It’s the exact opposite, in fact.”

“This is your decision to make, and you’ve made it,” he says, turning his back to you and walking to the treadmill.

He steps onto the treadmill, starts tapping the buttons until it turns on, and begins to lightly jog. You stand from the bench and put your backpack over your shoulder, feeling flabbergasted that he would just abruptly end the conversation like this.

You walk along the side of the treadmill and stop next to him.

His words and behavior feel unfair, but after the actions he’s taken that are so on par with the man you know he can be, you understand that this might feel like a rejection. He has to understand why you’d make this choice, though, right? Even if he can’t see it now, he has to eventually.

“I’ll text you when dinner is ready?” you ask, opting not to push the subject any further.

“Yeah. Thanks.”

His tone is drier than the Sahara. Still, you offer him a small smile before turning away and exiting the room.

You sit between Hyunjin and Chan during dinner. He seems okay, but doesn’t say much to you directly other than asking you to pass the condiments. When he’s doing eating, he heads straight down to the basement with a few of the other members. You keep your composure as you clear the table, not wanting to jump to conclusions or take deep offense to his actions. You remind yourself that he just may need some time to think things over, like you did.

You help the girls clean the kitchen, chiming in on their conversation occasionally but otherwise remain quiet. You shower in his room, as normal, then climb into his bed. You try wait up for him, but end up dozing off.

When you wake up the next morning, Chan isn’t lying next to you. You must have stayed up til nearly midnight and he never showed. You try to think if he came to bed at any point during the night but can’t recall if he did or not. Part of you knows you’d remember, the other part of you wants to remain in denial that he would avoid you to such an extent. And where is he this morning, even?

He does have a morning class today. Perhaps he just went in early. Perhaps not.

You push back the blankets and get dressed before going down to the kitchen to make breakfast. You make a large pan of scrambled eggs and fry up some bacon for the others. You attend your afternoon class, and when you make it back home, you have to go straight to the den. Rhiannon and Charlotte are already inside, covered in blankets and watching something on the TV.

“Do you want us to turn it off?” Rhiannon asks.

“No, you guys are fine,” you tell her, dropping your backpack to the floor as you sit at your desk. You pop your headphones on and focus on your assignment.

Halfway through, your phone buzzes.

It’s Chan.

Come upstairs.

You save the document you’re working on without hesitation and make your way to his room. You want the chance to speak to him again, to check in and see where his head is at. You have to get him to see that you’re doing this for him, not to hurt him. Hopefully he’s given it some more thought on his own.

The door to his room is open when you get there. You enter the room and close it behind you.

“Chan?” you call out when you don’t immediately see him.

He saunters out of the bathroom, towel drying his hair whilst fully naked. The sight does startle you, but it’s nothing you haven’t seen before. Your eyes do betray you, though, flickering down to his exposed cock, then back up to his face.  

He tosses the towel onto his bed as he walks towards you without saying a word. He cups your face with his right hand, stroking your cheek tenderly before bringing you closer. Maybe he wants to show you that he still cares. So, you let him.

His lips meet yours and you let out a soft sigh.

Yes. I’ve missed you, too. You convey as you kiss him back.

He places one hand on your waist, pulling you with him as he walks back towards the bed.

“Take your pants off,” he instructs.

You stare at him for a moment, recognizing the flat demand in his tone. You’ve not heard that in a while.

“Chan, can we—”

“Off.”

Your hands are already working on the button and zipper of your jeans as your brain struggles to catch up with what’s happening. You slide your pants off, followed by your underwear as you assume that would be his next command if you don’t. You sit on the bed and slide back, watching as he crawls onto it, advancing towards you. You try to interpret what he’s thinking from his eyes.

You feel a sliver of something in you crack as you realize there’s nothing there. He’s looking at you, yes, but it doesn’t feel like he sees you.

Once he’s hovering over you, his mouth is on yours again. You’re kissing him back, wanting to give him whatever reassurance you can, to fix the damage you may have done to not only him, but yourself as well.

“You still want me, yeah?” he asks, pulling away from you.

You cup his face in your hands, staring into his hardened eyes, pleading with them to see you.

“Of course I do,” you tell him.

You attempt to bring his mouth to yours again, but he pulls back. In one swift motion he flips you over so you’re on all fours. You look over your shoulder to see him spitting in his hand before cupping your pussy with it. He rubs you, in the way he knows that you like, slipping his fingers inside briefly.

He grabs his cock and lines it up with your opening and thrusts forward, hard and deep, with no warning. You let out a startled gasp and drop your head. You can’t deny how good it feels to have him inside of you again, regardless of the thick tension hanging in the air.

He says nothing else as he continues to slam into you, gripping your hips, smacking your ass, grunting out his apparent frustrations. And you let him have it, let him have you, let him take it out on you.

You reach your hand down between your legs to rub your clit. He grabs a hold of your arm to stop you, bending it slightly and holding it hostage against your back.

You moan as he fucks and restrains you. Unable to deny how amazing it feels. And you want more. You always want more.

“Chan, please,” you beg. “I want to come.”

“No,” he growls.

He releases your arm and places both hands on your hips, pulling you against him with wild force, causing you to scream out.

“Please?”

“No.”

You know this is what he likes—and it’s not as if you’ve lost trust in him. Perhaps this is a twisted form of punishment. You hate that you’ve hurt him. Maybe this is how you can make it up to him. Maybe he just needs to get this out.

His pace quickens and he suddenly pulls his cock out of you. In seconds you feel his warm come coating your back as he groans through his release.

When he’s done, he grabs the towel he tossed on the bed earlier and wipes your back clean. You collapse onto the bed, feeling unsatisfied at your orgasm denial. Your clit makes contact with the fabric of the sheets and your body instinctively starts to move against it to create more friction. You feel his palm connect with your ass forcefully and whimper at the pain, immediately halting your movements.

He slides off the bed and retreats to his dresser, pulling out a pair of boxers and slipping them on. He then takes out a pair of shorts and dons them, too, followed by a shirt.

“You can sleep in your own bed tonight.”

He walks to the door and exits without saying anything else as you choke back a sob. He hasn’t spoken to you this way in months. You almost managed to forget how physically painful it feels.

On Wednesday morning, you’re up with the sunrise. You hardly slept through the night; so much tossing and turning and just staring up into the darkness. Anytime that you actually fell asleep, you woke up soon after with your brain already in the middle of an anxiety-stricken thought. And the cycle repeated itself again and again.

You didn’t expect Chan to jump up and down with joy at your response to his confession, however you also didn’t expect him to retreat so far back into his shell. He somehow feels further than he even was in the beginning. How can he so abruptly go back to treating you this way? Like an object.

Your initial instinct is to make excuses for him. He’s putting his walls up in self-defense, to protect himself from the pain that you’ve caused. But, no...you can’t reason away his behavior.

At least not while maintaining your own sanity. And you need to start prioritizing that, if you intend to leave this house unscathed. As much as you care for everyone here and will be saddened to leave them in a few months, you must put yourself first. You won’t have any of them to lean on when this is over.

Chan’s alarm for his morning class blares through the room and you sit up in bed, watching as his hand shoots out from under his blanket to silence it. He grumbles and stretches before throwing the blanket off. He lets out a long sigh, swings his legs off the side of the bed and sits up too. You wish he could learn to sleep with a shirt on sometimes.

He looks over at you, eyes squinted as they adjust to the light of day.

“Good morning,” you say softly.

“Morning,” he replies.

“What was that last night?” you ask before you can stop yourself.

He shrugs.

“No.” you shake your head as you push your blankets aside and walk to him, standing between his legs. “You’re not doing this to me.”

While his expression is blank, his eyes are saying so much but you don’t have the code to decipher the meaning.

“What was that?” you ask again.

“How it has to be,” he replies.

“Why would it have to be like that again? Just because I refuse to run off into the sunset with you?”

He shrugs once more.

You take a deep breath and let out a long exhale.

“Chan.”

“I don’t know how to do this,” he admits. He places his hands on your hips and you feel the familiar warmth his touch provides course through your body. Instead of pulling you closer, though, he moves you to the side so he can stand. “I don’t know how to want you, and want be to with you, and still accept that fact that you’re okay with this ending.”

As he’s talking, he walks around the bed and into his bathroom, you follow after him.

“I’m not okay with it,” you tell him, reaching out for his hand. “Is that what you think?”

He looks down at your connected hands, then up to you. 

“What I think, what I want…none of that matters. You’ve made that clear, y/n.”

“So, you’re okay with spending the next three months like this? Just fucking me and nothing else?”

“That’s what you’re here for,” he says coolly and removes his hand from yours.

You grit your teeth and swallow the expletive hanging on the tip of your tongue. You resolve to just nod your head as you slowly back out of the bathroom. He disappears into the closet, and you turn around on your heels. How can this man, whom you know for a fact is capable of giving you so much warmth and fleeting, albeit dangerous, glimpses of his love, turn against you so quickly? For a decision that’s not truly yours to make, all you feel you can do is accept the truth of your situation.

You don’t even bother to grab your phone before exiting the room, wanting to put as much space between the two of you before you spew words that you might later regret.

Fuck. You.

[ read chapter 27 here (coming soon ]

a/n: our poor Channie has no healthy coping mechanisms. be gentle with him. more coming soon! you can join the mailing list [ here ].

[drewsarms]

𓊆ྀི❤︎𓊇ྀི A little of the writing was inspired by this post!! For my baby @shawtycoreee !!! I hope you guys enjoy! Send me some asks too!!

𐙚: hick!rafe x toots!reader get into a fight and make up

𐙚 : warnings: violence (fighting), angst, use of “daddy” , faux fucking, 18+ mdni !!

From the moment you woke up you were ready to get on your man’s last nerve. To be fair he wasn’t paying a lot of attention to you lately. Going out with his friends. Coming home drunk. Not listening to when you’re yapping about god knows what. It’s not that you didn’t trust him or had concerns of if he didn’t love you. He was a sweetheart to you in every way possible. You got to see a side of him that no one else did. But something was off and you had to know what the problem was.

Rafe was working late tonight. By the time he got home you’d usually be in bed but tonight was different. You wanted to let him know just how much he pissed you off. When he pulls up in the driveway he was surprised to see all the lights still on. He hurried inside to see if anything was wrong.

“Baby, uh, you there?” Nothing. He walks further into the house and sees you sitting on the kitchen counter. “You didn’t hear me come in Toots?” You didn’t answer him. You knew just how to piss Rafe off and that was not answering his questions. He drops his bags and walks towards you. “You know I don’t like that shit. I asked you a question goddammit.” He points a finger in your face. You look away. He puts his finger on your chin and you push him away. “You know what fuck this shit.” You jump off the kitchen counter following him around the corner. “Where the hell are you going?” You say throwing your arms up in the air. Your voice starts breaking. “To fucking relax. I can’t deal with this shit right now.” Tears start to form in your eyes. To think that he didn’t even want to talk this through hurted you even more. “What shit are you referring to? Since we’re on the subject I can’t deal with your shit anymore either.” He turns around and raises an eyebrow. “Hey! You better watch your fucking tone little girl. I am not in the fucking mood.” He says walking towards you. Backing you against the wall. “I don’t give a fuck what mood you’re in. You’re pissing me off and I want to talk to you about it.” Rafe rolls his eyes at you and starts to walk away. “I really can’t fucking do this.” He mumbles. He walks to the kitchen to grab a beer and you follow right behind him. He’d be damned to think that this conversation was over. He brings the beer up to his lips and before he can take a sip you snatch it throwing it against the wall making a mess. “You’re such a fucking dick!” When you turn away you can hear him unbuckling his belt. It made you even more pissed if he thought sex was going to be the answer to the argument. You were caught by surprise when you felt the cool leather snap hard against your ass making you jump. Before you could turn around Rafe grabs you by your neck. His mustache tickling your ear. “You’re gonna fucking regret that.”

Rafe throws you on the bed. You can’t admit you’re a little scared. Not because you made him mad (that’s something you’re used to) but because he’s not eagerly trying to fuck some sense into you. “Get that cute ass up in the air.” In an instant you listen. He chuckles at your eagerness. He runs the cool metal of his belt buckle against your ass making you shiver. Five more harsh slaps from the belt hitting your ass filled the room. You try to apologize but all that’s coming out is whimpers and sniffles. “Quit that fucking crying Toots. Don’t act so sorry now.” A feeling of emptiness comes from behind you. You don’t feel Rafe. You start to wiggle your ass out of neediness. “D-daddy?” you say through cute little cries. You feel his jeans press against your panties. His hard cock feels like it could break through the material. He grabs your hips and starts fucking into you. He was teasing you and you hated it. “Wanna show daddy how sorry you are?” You whine as you start to twerk against his clothed dick. He slaps your already sore ass making you gasp. “Daddy please fuck me! Please!” You look back at him and he has this sinister look in his eyes. His once bright blue eyes turning dark. It turned you on and scared you. “Uh uh I thought I was such a dick shug?” He looks down at you backing your ass up against his dick. “Doesn’t seem like it’s a bad thing now does it? Not with the way you’re shaking your ass against me.” After what felt like hours of torture you finally heard him unbuckle his belt. “Get those fucking panties off.” You eagerly reach back and yank them off spreading your legs even more so he can have a perfect view and easy access to your pussy. You can feel him line his self up with your entrance. Rubbing at your leaking, sensitive clit. You start to kick your feet in protest. Desperately trying to push his cock in your pussy by backing up against him. “Daddy! I’m sorry please I won’t act up again! Just please fuck me-“ Your little fit turned into moans as he pushed himself all the way inside of you. Every time he fucked you his dick felt bigger and bigger. “I don’t want to hear your whining and shit ever again. When I come home I want you to be my good little girl. You don’t ask me questions. You don’t get mad if I’m at work all day. You got that?” You nod your head in agreement. The pleasure becoming too much for you to speak. He pulls out and starts rubbing your clit. “I asked you a question angel.” You look back at him with teary eyes. You reach for his face giving him the most desperate and sloppy kiss. A string of spit connecting your swollen lips together. “Yes daddy! I understand! I’ll be your good girl!!” He gives you a sweet kiss to your forehead before sticking his cock back in and filling up your sweet cunt.

━━⊱⋆⊰━━

As the two of you layed in bed together he realized he never got an answer out of you. “Baby you awake?” he asks in a whisper. “Barley,” you managed to say in your sleepy voice. “I guess I did fuck you good then.” The both of you laugh. “But uh, nah you-you never told me what the problem was.” You sigh as you sit up to look at him. Tears start to form into your eyes. “I never complain because I know you do so much for me. I hate to seem so ungrateful but sometimes you don’t listen to me. Sometimes I never get to see you. I just love you so much and I don’t want to loose you.” You can hear Rafe sniffle. He sits up now holding you in his arms. “Toots. I can’t promise you everything in the world but what I can promise you is that I am never leaving. I’m sorry for the way I’ve been acting. I need you beside me. You’re all I have. I’d be a goddamn fool to ever let you leave. I love you more than you’ll ever know. Tell what I need to do to make it up to you.” You look up at him. Your tears still flowing because he’s never really this vulnerable. “Mmm, $300 dollars every week?!” The two of you laugh as he pushes your head back into the pillow, laying back down next to you. He kisses your temple. “You got it sugar.”

Taglist: @fae-of-prey @bunnyrafe @starkeysprincess @drewstarkeys-world @drewspinkbunny @venic-bxtch @nemesyaaa @justafangirls-blog @rafecameroninterlude

[buckysgrace]

6. Bed on Fire

Broken Hearts Club Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Distance between you and Steve leaves you worried until he returns with good news.

CW: Unprotected sex, public sex

You felt lonely the next few days, going unanswered by both Steve and Patty. You didn’t even see Steve around at the mall to ask him what you had done. You had gone from seeing him everyday to not at all. You feared that he had somehow found out the truth. That this was it. 

Then again you figured that Patty would’ve said something. Unless by some sick twist of fate they had gotten back together. You shivered at that thought, not liking it one bit. 

“What are you doing, bug?” Your grandpa asked you, calling you by your former childhood nickname. You peeked your head towards him before you glanced back at the shadows coming from the sun that was dipping into your room. 

“Don’t know,” You admitted, heels still planted against the side of your wall, “I’m bored.” You told him honestly, too distracted to even try to open the books that you had gotten from the library earlier this week. Your mind kept drifting back to Steve. 

“You could help me out back.” He suggested, making you wrinkle your lips together. Being outside in the hot sun didn’t sound fun unless Steve was there to keep you company. 

“What are you doing?” You asked curiously, deciding that if you laid on the floor any longer you’d melt into the floorboards. 

“Trying to get the tractor fixed,” He muttered, looking angry suddenly. He’d spent the past three years trying to get it fixed, hoping that he could enter it into the tractor pulls at the fair, “I think I’m almost there.”

“I don’t know much about that stuff.” You admitted as you sat up slowly, thinking that it might be fun to try and read again. He chuckled at the way you tried to busy yourself suddenly. 

“Sounds like a good time to learn.” He added, taking a step back as he waited for you to follow. You sighed, deciding you might as well give it a try. Steve wouldn’t be coming by today either. 

Sweat coated the back of your neck as you worked out in the summer heat with him, your fingers covered in sludge and grease as you tried to make sense of what you were working on. You supposed you weren’t doing that bad of a job, as he hadn’t yelled at you yet. 

You made the long trek back to the porch, in desperate need for a glass of water and to scrub your hands. You wished your grandpa would’ve brought the radio out, that would’ve made it a bit more fun. 

“Steve.” You stopped in surprise, almost tripping over the old floorboard as you blinked in confusion. He was at the edge of your driveway, still bearing his work uniform. You shook your head, not quite understanding why he was here now. 

“Hey,” He smiled stiffly, forcing his hands into his pockets, “It’s been a minute.” He said awkwardly, shifting his weight back and forth on his feet as you thought about demanding answers. But then you were fearful of what he knew. Of what he didn’t know. 

“Yeah,” You laughed awkwardly as you leaned against your porch, “I haven’t seen you in a while.” You told him, wondering if you should bring up how you’d tried to call him. You had even debated showing up at his house, but that seemed too desperate. 

“I’ve been busy,” He admitted, shoving his hands deeper in his pockets as he rocked himself back and forth, “I’m free now. If you are.” He added softly, having the decency to at least look ashamed of leaving you in the dark. 

“I need to wash my hands,” You held up your fingers, showing off the grease stains, “But if you give me five minutes I’ll be ready.” You told him, unable to resist the smile that formed across his lips. It made your heart flutter so intensely that you had forgotten about the past few days. All was forgiven. 

“Sure,” He nodded his head quickly, “I’ll wait here.” He added as he gestured in front of him, earning a small laugh from you before you carefully opened the door with your messy hands. 

You bounded back inside, careful to keep from trudging any grease or dirt inside of the house as you raced towards the kitchen sink. You scrubbed and scrubbed, then searched for a mirror to try and make yourself look as presentable as possible. And to freshen up a bit. You didn’t want to stink. 

All messes were left behind as you greeted him again, your hand instantly falling to his as he reached for you. Something about this just felt right. It made you nervous yet giddy at the same time. 

“Where have you been?” You asked as you walked with him, following him into the woods as he carried a rolled up blanket underneath his free arm. You were curious as to where you were going, as this was certainly the long way to his house. 

“I was helping Nancy out with some things.” He said slowly, flicking his eyes towards you for a brief second before he looked away. The statement rang around in your ears for a moment. 

“Wheeler?” You asked him, watching the slow way he nodded his head in agreement, “Your ex?” You asked in confirmation, trying not to let the jealousy monster fill you. You had no right to be jealous. 

“Yeah,” He replied softly, chewing on his bottom lip, “It’s not like that though.” He tried to convince you, but your mind was already swirling with thoughts. He sat the blanket down, sitting down a second later as he waited for you to join him. But you had frozen on the spot. 

People had whispered that he had changed because of her, and became a better person. You hadn’t really believed it, not at first. You could remember when he was kind and sweet to you, but now you weren’t so sure. Did he really like you? Or were you just some sort of replacement? He had been struggling to go on a date. Maybe Patty was right. You were just an opportunity for him.

You reminded yourself that you shouldn’t be upset anyways. This was all a bet anyways. It was nothing serious. You were just supposed to break his heart. In a similar way you felt yours cracking at the moment.

“I don’t like her like that anymore,” He persisted, telling you quickly, “We’re just friends.” He insisted, but you weren’t grabbing the bait just yet.

“I think it’s hard to be friends with your ex.” You told him honestly, wrinkling your eyebrows together as a bitter taste filled your mouth. Why did you care anyways?

“You’re friends with my ex,” He pointed out, making you pout. It wasn’t the same thing, “And I wasn’t helping her, she was helping me.” He explained, leaving you even more curious than before. 

“With what?” You asked, wondering why he couldn’t just come to you for help. He had ignored you in order to speak to her. It didn’t make sense to you. 

“College stuff,” He flushed, “I thought it would be easier for us to go on dates if we’re close together.” He admitted, leaving your lungs void of air.

Oh. Fuck.

You nearly felt sick at the revelation, realizing that this whole time he had been planning on growing closer to you. He was trying to move with you. To create a future. And you had just been trying to convince yourself that your relationship was nothing.

“You’re making me nervous.” He said at last, brown eyes filled with worry as he stared at you. You almost couldn’t hear him over the sound of your heart racing. 

“I’m nervous.” You clarified as you gulped harshly, trying to keep your nerves from coming up. What were you supposed to do now? Is this when you were supposed to break things off? To break his heart. 

“Is it too soon?” He asked, looking worried. Looking like you had just stabbed him. His brown eyes were soft as they searched your features, trying to find any cracks within you. You couldn’t do this.

“No, I mean-,” You paused, trying to gather your thoughts, “I just didn’t expect it.” You admitted as you bit your bottom lip, thinking of how to go forward.

“I didn’t really either,” He admitted with a smile, “But I really like you.” He breathed out gently, taking your hand as he brought you onto your knees with him. 

You were stunned, speechless as your tongue remained twisted into a giant knot. You didn’t know what to do, nor what to say. You hadn’t really expected him to fall for you so easily, yet here you were. 

“Hey,” He looked at you in concern, gently touching your elbow, “Are you okay?” He looked concerned, worried as he brought you out of your thoughts.

“I’m fine,” You breathed out quickly, heart fluttering harshly in your chest, “I really like you too.” You admitted, almost fearfully as you brought your eyes to him.

“Yeah?” He questioned you, his lips curling into a little smirk as you rolled your eyes. Not so bashful now.

“Don’t get so cocky,” You laughed, pulse racing as he traced his lips over yours gently. You pressed your fingers against his bicep, holding onto him for support as he dragged his mouth against yours, “I’m a mess.”

“Not to me,” He smiled softly as he pecked the corner of your lips, “You look stunning.” He mumbled, pressing his fingertips against the hem of your shirt. You gulped, following his motions as you both slowly undressed each other in the sunlight. 

You giggled against his mouth as you pulled him free of his uniform, earning a little laugh from him as you exposed his bare chest to the open sky. You brushed your fingers through his chest hair, grinning as he nipped at your bottom lip.

He laid you down gently against the blanket, keeping the blades of grass from digging into your skin too roughly as he moved his hands down your curves. You breathed in and out, reminding your lungs how to work as his lips fell against the crook of your neck.

Everything burned as he spread your legs apart, gently pressing his legs in between yours. He felt hot over your body, his cock falling heavily against your slick cunt. You raised your hips forward, inviting the feeling of his girthy tip against your soaked hole.

You shook underneath him, your fingertips digging into the blanket as he slid his long dick inside of your fluttering walls. Everything felt right, too perfect as your mind grew hazy with pleasure. The sounds that left his lips were deep and blissful, white hot as he filled you to the brim.

“Steve,” You whispered as you clung to him, gaping in awe as you rolled your hips forward to feel all of him. The tip of his cock pressed deep inside of you, tickling against your bundle of nerves as your thighs trembled, “You feel so good.” You breathed out, moving your hands up to run them through his hair.

His eyes were slightly darker, half lidded as his blissful expression intensified as his grip tightened against your flesh. He rocked his hips backwards slowly, then pressed himself even deeper inside of you. You gaped, squeaking softly as the pleasure grew white hot.

His nose brushed against yours, sincere and soft as he rutted his cock in and out of your drenched walls. Your clit ached in pleasure, your toes curling as you linked your body closer to his. You were in awe of how close you were, that you could get any closer.

You dragged your eyes down his chest, meeting the area of where your bodies were connecting. You gaped at the sight of his dick sliding in and out of your cunt with ease. He gripped the base of his cock, giving himself a little squeeze before he dragged himself deeper into you.

“You feel heavenly,” He groaned, lips messy against your own, “She’s squeezing me so tight.” He huffed, making your insides twist and turn once again. You rocked yourself against him, fingertips digging into his flesh. 

The sound of your bodies meeting created a dirty symphony, intense and lustful at the same time. But there was something sweet about it, something in his touch that was deep and sincere. The pleasure was overwhelming, making your body shake underneath his touch.

“You’re doing so good,” He breathed out, air hot against your cheek as you crooned in response, “So sweet for me, honey.” He whispered, voice higher pitched as he linked your fingers with his. 

You cried out as his cock continually hit your bundle of nerves, leaving you twitching and gasping in pleasure. You felt like you were on fire as you crashed your lips against his, desperately licking away his sounds of pleasure as he rutted deeper and deeper into you.

His fingers fell to your clit, pressing down deeply as your lips fell open against his. You squeaked, moans rolling off of the top of the trees as your cunt clamped down around his thick girth. You shook as you came, chanting his name as everything else fell away.

His teeth grazed against your neck, heavy breaths falling against your skin as you squeezed your fingers tightly with his. He grunted deeply, spreading pleasure deep inside of you as his hips came to a slow stall.

“Fuck,” He groaned, tossing his head back slowly as he shut his pretty eyes. You gripped his fingers for support, holding onto him tightly as he came deep inside of you. Dangerous, but you liked the way he felt. How you felt right now, “You’re so beautiful.” He whispered to you, leaving you bashful all over again.

“So are you,” You teased, moving a hand away gently to stroke the side of his cheek, “Thank you.” You whispered, wishing that you could tell him more. Not right now. Later. You didn’t want to ruin this moment right now. 

“College is going to be fun.” He stated between heavy breaths, laughing as a smile fell onto your lips. You breathed out deeply, licking your bottom lip as you thought everything over. How could you have a future with him if you had such a big secret?

You knew what you had to do.

[dreadsuitsamus]

First | Choso Kamo x Reader |

author's note: this is a sequel to that small first kiss imagine i wrote a while back, and i've finally found the steam to wrap it up! i love this guy 🩷

pairing: choso kamo x fem!reader

warnings: nsfw, explicit smut, fingering, dry humping, friends to lovers

Frost nips at Choso’s delicate little nose as he has a cigarette out on the balcony, his habit uncaring about the weather conditions being less than stellar. It’s cold, though not snowing at least. His dark hair is down, the ends tickling the back of his neck while a beanie covers the top of his head and ears, keeping him as warm as possible in this thirty degree weather. Shooting a gaze over his shoulder as he blows the smoke with the direction of the wind, he peeks inside of the window to see if you’re ready yet, but the living room is still empty. So, with his question answered, he turns back around and looks to the sky.

It’s been a handful of weeks since he first kissed you, and he’s kept his word: a kiss every single day, and usually more than once a day at that. And naturally, as one would hope with frequent make-outs, things have progressed a bit beyond two friends just kissing to heal old wounds. You’ve been friends for quite a long time by now, and it’s been so easy to transition to this budding romance, the expected awkwardness and general weirdness you thought would appear not existing at all. Choso puts out the cigarette and discards it with a flick to the busy city street far below him, climbing back into your apartment and shrugging the hefty coat off of his strong, broad shoulders once he’s closed the window.

“Oi!” He comes to tap his knuckle against your closed bedroom door. “We still gotta get a cab, babe, come on! We’re gonna miss our reservations.”

“I don’t know what to wear!” Your voice wails from behind the wooden barrier between you and Cho, and he sighs. He’s not sure why he didn’t expect this of you, as you’ve historically always been the late one in your friend group.

“Whatever you wear is gonna look great!” Choso pouts and leans against the wall. You’re not convinced, though, and you look between the two dresses laid out on your bed. It’s your first date with Cho, and despite knowing him for over seven years, you’re as nervous as you’d be on a blind date with a proper stranger. You’re treading a line finer than the baby hairs at the back of your neck, after all, and on the line is something too precious to lose.

But also on the line stands the chance for a relationship that could flourish into the best thing you’ve ever had. Frankly, there should probably be more butterflies rumbling in your tummy!

Moving to the bedroom door and pulling it open to see your dear friend, you take his large hand in yours and tug. Happy to be dragged anywhere you take him, especially into your lair as you’re half-naked under that little silk robe, Choso easily follows your lead. He doesn’t hide his sneaky little grin well, and you bat his arm with a laugh, warmth withering the nerves away with the comfort that, at least, he thinks you're hot. Cho’s the same as he’s always been, after all, and the reminder melts the tension from your shoulders. “You’re dating me now and still acting like this?”

“Am I supposed to stop?” He murmurs, tugging his beanie off and threading those long fingers through the chocolatey locks, fluffing it up a bit and then smoothing it out.

“I hope not.” Sinking your teeth into your lip, you pick up your two best dresses, holding them up and turning to Choso. “So, which one do you think would look good?”

His amber eyes don’t linger on either choice and instead scan that skimpy lilac robe that hardly reaches your mid-thigh, his hands closing into tight fists while his Adam's apple bobs steadily. He’s always thought of you as attractive, no doubt, and that’s why he kissed you on that sweet night your friend group passed around first kiss stories. You deserved an amazing first kiss and Choso wanted nothing more than to be that for you, to erase the memories of that dreadful man you gave your all to. His intentions aren’t all pure, however, and he hopes to God you can’t sense it.

He would kill your ex if given the chance. How dare that bastard take and take every ounce of your spirit, crushing you beneath the weight of his impossible expectations, carelessness and general assholery? Choso’s made it more than his personal mission to wipe out every memory, heal each scar and destroy any and all lingering ideas of doubting what you deserve. You should be loved, adored, cherished…

And fucked absolutely senseless.

If your first kiss was no good, your first time couldn’t have been halfway decent either. And he hasn’t wanted to admit it, he wants to be good and proper and show you what a gentleman is like… But every night it claws at him knowing that you’ve never been shown a good time. Knowing that your beautiful body was never worshipped, never adored and doted on or prioritized at all kills him. He should take it slow like he planned, he knows. It’s what you deserve!

But he’s going absolutely mad at the sight of you now and frankly, it shows; your chest flips at the look in those warm, hungry, honey-hued eyes. “Cho?” Your voice, so soft and pretty, quickly jolts him back to his senses. Shaking his head as if to knock the naughty thoughts from his brain, Choso takes a proper look at each dress you’re holding.

“Uh… They’re both… nice.” One has a plunging neckline and the other one is so short he’s not completely sure it’ll cover your ass! Why don't you just write ‘tease’ clear as day on your forehead while you're at it? Not to mention, it's thirty fucking degrees outside and he's not looking forward to giving up his coat when you get cold!

“Just nice?” With a defeated groan, the dresses are tossed onto the floor and you’re back to the drawing board in your closet, flipping through your array of sundresses, evening gowns, club outfits and more. Choso’s close behind as you walk away, a confused crease forming between his brows as he takes in just how packed this walk-in is. He could swear he’s seen you cycle through the same six or so outfits since he met you! How could you possibly have this many clothes?? 

Blinking himself out of the stupor, Cho places warm palms to your shoulders, rubbing a gentle massage into your skin. His touch is magical, and any other time would be quite soothing. But the nerves that line every inch of your body are just too frayed for a simple shoulder rub to cure this time. “Baby, it really doesn’t matter what you wear-”

“Of course it does! This is our first date!”

Okay, time to re-route.

Choso presses a kiss to your temple, hands gradually marking a path to your hips, taking the scenic route and enjoying a few selfish squeezes along the way. With soft lips at your ear, you shiver at how Choso touches you. This relationship— situationship?— is still fragile and fresher than a newborn baby, and while the kissing is plentiful, that's about as far as it really gets.

“Relax...” Cho murmurs quietly, squeezing your hips and rubbing at your rear. “Breathe, baby. It's all okay.”

Melting like butter, Choso’s touches light your eyes with lust and, dragging your wet tongue along your glossed lips as a soft moan passes by, you fall easily into his embrace. “Cho…”

With a trail of kisses smattering your neck and shoulders, Choso coos. “You could wear a paper bag and I’d still be fighting off all the other men in the room. And all the other girls could be naked and I'm still only gonna be able to see you. I mean it, babe. You're just that perfect.”

“... What if I wore nothing?”

Choso kisses a spot he's not sure he's touched yet. “Then we'd both be in jail, but my sentence would be a lot longer than yours.” Murder is, after all, a bit more than a frowned upon misdemeanor.

“And what if you wore nothing with me?”

A small smile is hidden into your skin, Choso's lips pressing insistently to your neck as his large hands come to pull at the knot at the front of your robe. “Then I think we're missing our reservations tonight.”

You're leaned back against him fully now, head rolling off to the side to allow him more unbridled access to the column of your throat. “Who likes that restaurant anyway?”

“You're right.” Sharp teeth nip gleefully alongside a low chuckle. “What's another six week waiting list, hm?” Your robe slips from your shoulders after a light, insisting tug at it by the small of your back. By the time it's pooled at your ankles, the silky fabric cool on your skin, Choso’s hands have resumed their exploration of your body.

His hands are cold still from his smoke break, which sends goosebumps down your delicious body wherever he touches you. His mouth, hot and minty with a tinge of cigarette, plants a kiss on the shell of your ear, his low voice whispering against you in a way that lights the rest of your body up.

“You’re so pretty.”

Your nipples, covered by a pretty pink bra with strawberries on them, peak as your cunt is struck with a lick of lust; you never dreamed before that Choso would be one to make you feel this way. He's always been just a friend, a guy you never really realized even had a penis, let alone one you'd like to see and touch and more.

How time changes things!

You turn in his arms, pushing up onto your tiptoes into a desperate kiss, one that nearly sends Choso off of his feet as your dalliance moves from the closet and to the bed. Boldness strikes him and he's turning your back to the bed, the edge of the mattress knocking the back of your knees before you're guided down, Choso’s large hands holding your figure tenderly.

“Can I touch you?” He murmurs, hands completely still despite his lust swelling below the belt and beneath his ribcage. Even with the general flirting, kissing and touching going on, to make the true transition of friend into boyfriend is a heavy step, one he doesn't want taken back.

Adoration-fueled goosebumps scatter your body, the tingling feeling in your breast and thighs meeting in the middle for a warm flooding of your tummy. Cho is so delicate, so thoughtful and considerate… It makes your desire for him triple in the single blink of an eye.

“Please.” His whisper is more urgent now, a frenzy building behind warm, amber eyes. He'll certainly stop if you command him so, but you couldn't dream of doing so now.

Your fingertips brush against the strong, solid line of his jaw, feeling his smooth, pale-toned skin. “Yes. Everywhere.”

Choso’s lips crash onto yours immediately, greedily having a fill of your sweet, pretty lips as the pads of his fingertips graze your body, massaging small circles into the warm, electrified flesh of your hips. The thin line of your panties taunts him, that and his own clothes reminding him of how far away he really is from you.

“Choso.” You murmur at his short hesitation, playing with the little hairs at the back of his neck. It soothes him, as intended, and he presses a sweet kiss to your cheek while dipping his thumbs below the band of your skimpy underwear, toying with the fabric before running his hands up your beautiful curves and carefully removing the thin bralette to see your breasts, bare and beautiful for the first time.

Choso’s mouth, hot and honeyed with his wanton saliva, glazes over one of your gorgeous, pert nipples. A shiver trembles down your spine and a soft little moan passes your lips as his tongue swirls and lips suck, and the encouragement is enough for him to slowly dip his hand beneath your panties, those long fingers finding a hot, sticky mess to play with.

The feeling of your juicy cunt on his hand, the way your pretty little clit hides between the succulent lips of your pussy… It makes Choso harder than he's ever been. A harsh shiver overtakes him as his fingers lather in your sweetness, two of them carefully dipping inside of your hole.

“Holy fuck…” His warm breath fans over your breast, his forehead resting against you while he slowly pumps his fingers in and out of you. The way your walls just suck him in, so greedily, so warm and inviting and… and god he can't believe how hard he is. “You're so perfect…”

Heat fills your entire face at his admission. All he's done is for your pleasure, yet he's panting and groaning like you're the one touching him. Is it really possible for a man to feel pleasure from giving, rather than receiving?

With the way that rod in his jeans pokes at your leg, it must be.

“Cho, you feel so good…” Your face buries into his hair, the dark chocolate locks smelling of strawberries. He never did seem like the type to buy the “manly” ten-in-one types.

“No, you do.” Choso presses a sweet kiss to your collarbone, urging his long fingers deeper inside of your core, spreading your sticky, thick nectar over his digits. He relishes the feeling, the way your pussy grips him and asks for more and more and more. And he gives it to you, finger-fucking you faster and filling the room with raunchy squelches, the addicting sounds only urging him even further.

“So good… Pretty pussy, sweet pussy…” It's as if he's drunk, intoxicated on you and all you're giving him. He slips a third finger inside of you, gentle in stretching you open to accommodate the girth of the three fingers together. All he wants is to feel you, simply just can't get enough of you around him.

“Ch-Choso, fuck, mmmmmmmm fuck!” He's hitting all the right spots so perfectly, prodding the spongy spot inside. “I-I’m close, honey, so close…”

Sharp teeth sink into the curve of your breast, quiet growls muffled into the flesh. You're so close, and he's going to get you there, all over his hand. He needs it, you need it, god he needs it…

Your back nearly snaps as you shoot up into an arch, cumming harshly and moaning loud enough to piss off the neighbors, who also happen to be your friends, though once Nobara is past the interruption of her beauty sleep she'll surely be joining Yuji in giggling about it.

Choso's rutting relentlessly now, withdrawing his fingers from your cunt and to his mouth, moaning as he licks and sucks every ounce of your essence from his digits. This man, your friend— boyfriend, is dry humping your bed while suckling his own fingers that are drenched in your taste, getting off on pure you…

He's absolutely perfect.

Pulling his hand from his mouth, you cup his strong jaw and pull him up for a kiss, and he adjusts himself between your legs, the tinkle of his belt buckle the only thing keeping you in the moment enough to realize he's shoving his pants and boxers to his knees, that lovely cock (that you had no idea he was packing below that belt) springing up against his stomach before he lays back down, his hot cock leaking against your ruined panties as he ruts.

His large hands rest on either side of you, holding him up so he's not pinning his weight down and crushing you, and you play with his hair as he comes closer to orgasm. The bedspread is bunched into his fists as he crests, his lips no longer able to cooperate with yours as beautiful, hot, sticky ropes of thick, white cum burst from his purpled tip, covering your lower belly and panties in his seed, all whilst groaning entirely unintelligible babble.

This is the first time in your entire life that you've felt so sexy and desirable, and the warmth in your chest blooms into a strong heat, a flame of love and adoration that may never burn out.

Choso falls to the left of you, his chest heaving while he gathers himself. He glances your direction, and with a bit of an embarrassed smile, he slips his hand into yours, squeezing warmly.

[tgmsunmontue]

Season to Taste - 21/? WIP

Explicit Hangster - Celebrity Chef Bradley and Naval Aviator Jake Seresin who have a relationship spanning the globe before they realize how tightly bound they are to one another. Heading into this little world.

PROLOGUE/ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX SEVEN EIGHT NINE TEN ELEVEN TWELVE THIRTEEN FORTEEN FIFTEEN SIXTEEN SEVENTEEN EIGHTEEN NINETEEN TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTYONE

                Vi enters the kitchen looking worried and he’s immediately concerned that something is going wrong front of house. She’s good, but there are still so many moving parts that she can’t catch everything. There are people that think they’re together, with how they’re portrayed on TV, and obviously the more they deny it the more people think they’re actively trying to hide it, so they’ve given up denying at least and just saying no comment. It’s easier and they’re not that exciting really, they have to lose interest eventually.

                “Leonardo…” Vi starts and one of his eyebrows shoots up. Italian it is then. She wants to say something and not have others understand. “There’s a guy out front saying he wants to talk to you. Says he’s your uncle?”

                For the briefest of seconds he thinks it might be Mav, but no, it has to be Ice. Mav wouldn’t say uncle, he always used godfather.

                “Tall guy. Looks really fucking intimidating?” Bradley asks, already untying his apron and straightening his top.

                “Oh. So you do know him?”

                “Yeah. Come on, let me introduce you to my Uncle Ice.”

                “Ghiaccio,” Vi offers, clearly thinking he’s forgotten the Italian word for ice and he laughs and shakes his head.

                “No. Not ghiaccio. His name is Ice. Or Tom actually I guess.”

                “Oh. Oh this is, he’s your… okay. Yeah. I want to meet him properly.”

…            …            …           

                “You said you don’t scare easy… guess it’s time to prove it.”

                “Gladly,” Bradley says, because he’s faced down far scarier people, and done it without anyone by his side. Jake grips his hand, and he’s not sure if it’s to show him support, or because he himself needs the physical touch right now. Regardless Bradley pauses and pulls Jake into a quick hug, presses a kiss to his forehead. “It’ll be fine.” He’s got two bags of food in his other hand, and Jake is balancing the cake in his free hand

                Jake nods sharply, sucks in a breath and rolls his shoulders back, like it’s not his own family home he’s about to enter and he wonders why Jake is so nervous. He squeezes his hand and the smile and nod he gets almost has him laughing with how reassuring Jake is trying to look. It’s fucking adorable and he hopes for Jake’s sake it’s all going to go smoothly, so he’ll be friendly and helpful and charm them all. He knows he can put on the charm, Maria already likes him and Jake had seemed to think she was going to be one of the hardest to impress.

                Maria had sent him a series of messages, letting him know she’s informed her siblings exactly who Jake was suddenly dating. That Jake called him Leo, so they could call him Leo or Bradley. She’s also explained to them that Jake seems to either not know the extent of Bradley’s fame, or simply doesn’t care, either way they all needed to be equally chill. She’s told him that Olivia is excited to meet him again, and the fact that he has met her before on the previous Saturday at the farmers market makes him feel even more prepared. That’s almost half of Jake’s sisters right there.

                He follows Jake and the door opens in front of them, like they’ve been watched the entire time and he isn’t surprised. A man is standing there, much too young to be Jake’s father, and he’s reaching out to take the cake from Jake’s hands.

                “I am under very strict instructions to rescue this cake and then protect it with my life… I’m Daniel by the way. Sandra’s husband. You see kids running around they’re also mine…”

                “Bradley,” he offers, dropping Jake’s hand to shake his, and then Maria is there, taking the cake from Daniel like she doesn’t trust him to hold it and Bradley grins at her.

                “Hey Maria.”

                “Bradley. Nice to see you again… thank you for this,” she says, eyes alight with glee and Bradley grins. He always likes making food for people who really appreciate it and Maria has got an excellent grasp of flavors so he hopes it lives up to her expectations.

                “I, uh, made a bit more food and thought I’d bring it along. Rickard –”

                “Oh. Do you have some of his salsas?”

                “Yeah. And fresh corn chips.”

                “Perfect. Come on through. Ignore the chaos.”

                Bradley isn’t quite sure what chaos she’s referring to but then he follows them out the back and then there are kids running around and then there are three women all standing there, all looking at him with varying degrees of skepticism and interest. He smiles and passes his bags to Maria, explains the additional food and is grateful to learn that it’ll go well with what she has planned. That they’d already done a bunch of stuff for lunch so he’s not contributing to over catering. Then she’s waving him off and Jake is hovering awkwardly and Bradley reaches for him, feels him settle a little as he wraps his arm around his waist.

                “Olivia right? Nice to see you again.”

                “Yeah. Hi.”

                Then he’s meeting Sandra and Nicola, who seem cooly polite, especially compared to Maria and Olivia’s much warmer friendliness. Jake hadn’t been wrong, there is a weird feeling, and he can only guess it’s the emotional upheaval of the day. He’d suggested, both to Jake and also Maria via messages, that maybe it could be postponed and told in very uncertain terms that that was not going to be happening. Also it’s an early dinner because many of them will get up early to be at the market to set up first thing in the morning. His offer of help has not been accepted. This time.

                There is no sign of Jake’s father, or Amanda, but no one is saying anything, so he stands there and makes small talk about the different places he’s travelled to, apparently a topic of conversation which they’ve all deemed appropriately safe. Jake is tugged away to play by his nieces and nephew and it’s very clear from both the torn look on Jake’s face that he wants to go as much as he doesn’t want to leave Bradley unattended with his sisters. Fortunately whatever expression he’s wearing and the expectant look on Sandra’s face have Jake heading out to the garden to throw and kick balls around, throwing an apologetic look over his shoulder as he goes.

                “So. Bradley.”

                “Yeah.”

                “You seem… normal.”

                “I… I’m sorry? Was that meant to be a compliment or an insult?”

                “Neither. Simply an observation. You’re not quite like how I imagined.”

                “What you imagined? Let me guess… someone hard to please and with a short fuse?”

                “Well, that is how you’re portrayed.”

                “Short fuse, yeah, when I was younger maybe. Definitely now when I’m stressed. But… no. Not me at all. Just what they choose to show of me. Sometimes I play it up when they ask me too….”

                “I knew it!” Olivia declares and Bradley shoots her a quick grin. “And Sandra only watched highlights on YouTube last night, I think she focused on a compilation one which just shows you yelling at people.”

                Bradley pulls a face, because he’s not a fan of those moments, but he also knows that a lot of people are. Then he hears the door open again and everyone turns toward it and there is another woman, one who is carrying a large bag and a baby and this has to be Amanda and her son Lincoln.

                “Holy shit. Bradley Bradshaw.”

                “He is.” “Do you not read your messages?” “Mandy!”

                “Hi. Nice to meet you.”

                “Holy shit, Maria, you weren’t joking.”

                “Does she usually?” Bradley asks, looks to Maria who is rolling her eyes.

                “Well… no. I just thought maybe you were a guy that just looked like him. Rather than actually being him…”

                “I’m actually him. Have been my whole life.”

                “Except for when you go by Leonardo,” Sandra states and Bradley shrugs.

                “I’m both Leo and Bradley, same person. I answer to both equally. I just usually expect Leo to be followed with a stream of Italian…”

                “Jake’s been learning Italian.”

                “He told me,” Bradley says, tries not to feel too smug about the fact.

                “Anyway, I’m Amanda. It’s nice to meet you.”

                “Nice to meet you too. And this must be Lincoln…”

                “He doesn’t like strangers…” Amanda says, already apologetic as if her son is about to scream in his face and Bradley shrugs. He likes kids, but he isn’t going to make grabby hands for a baby he’s just met, or a mom who has just met him. “Huh. Apparently you don’t make him scream. So yeah. Here,” and then he’s having a baby foisted onto him and he cradles the small body against his chest automatically, looks at her in surprise only to find all five sisters now grinning and it’s so similar to Jake’s it is a little unnerving.

                “So, you like kids?”

                “Yeah. Big family. Lots of cousins.”

                “Hmm.”

…            …            …

                Jake isn’t sure what his insides are doing when he sees Leo holding Lincoln, but he does know he needs to immediately capture it on his phone, quickly takes a snap and realizes it’s the first picture he’s taken of Leo. Nicola and Amanda are both smirking at him, and he turns back to Daniel, can’t even subtly give them the finger with the kids around. He sees his sisters move as a pack, Leo trailing after them with Lincoln still in his arms and Daniel jerks his head.

                “Go on, go rescue him and see if your sisters need any help…”

                “Like they’ll let me help,” Jake mutters under his breath, but he slopes off and tries not to feel too bad at the disappointment from his niblings as he leaves them to their games. Of course, he should have prepared himself better, gets almost to the kitchen to find that they’re not grilling Leo about himself, they’re grilling him about Jake. What the hell, that’s not the way it’s meant to go. He stands just out of the way, catches Leo’s eye and the little wink which makes his stomach do a little flip.

                “Wait. Jake’s cooked for you? How did that go?”

                “He’s a perfectly good cook,” Leo states, ducking his head.

                “Could you taste anything other than sauce?”

                “He cooks to survive, not to enjoy…”

                “He didn’t put any sauce on mine. And I enjoyed not having to cook.”

                “Wow. Must be true love.”

                “It ain’t blind, it has no taste…”

                “And I’m working on making him a sauce…”

                “You’re what?”

                “Oh my god, you’re going to make him sauce… He’s going to get his own signature sauce. Of course he is.”

                “I don’t know if that’s sweetly romantic or sickeningly romantic…”

                “So sweet it makes you sick?”

                “Bingo. That’s it…”

                “You’re all just jealous,” Jake declares, and they all jump a little, turning to look at him and he scoops Lincoln from Leo’s arms, surprised but pleased when Leo gives him a kiss, catches the pleased look a couple of his sisters shoot him and feels warm inside. They’re moving food to the table, setting out plates and tableware. Their dad is apparently less than five minutes away so his window of being able to be a little inappropriate is closing rapidly.

                “And you can stay jealous. He makes me breakfast in bed too.”

                “Yeah. I wonder why,” Nicola says dryly, and there are so many snorts and huffs of amusement he can’t tell if any of them didn’t, including Leo. Traitor.

                “I don’t mind making breakfast for everyone one morning…”

                “You’re not making any of my sisters a morning after breakfast!”

                “I made you a morning after breakfast…” Leo states, and Jake blinks at him, but his sisters, for the most part, are all cackling like mad and while the idea of Leo teaming up with his sisters should scare him, it instead thrills a part of him, that they already getting on well enough to hassle him.

                “Yeah. For…” Jake looks around, and his nieces and nephew have come inside and are all looking at him avidly and he slumps back against the bench. “Fine. Cook for whoever you want.”

                “Oh my god. Can you make me eggs benedict?”

                “He’s not your personal chef!” Jake grumbles, and for some reason this makes Leo laugh and kiss the side of his face again.

…            …            …

                He’s coming back from the bathroom, ready to eat when he nearly bumps into someone in the entryway taking off their boots. This must be Jake’s father.

                “Oh. Sorry sir. I didn’t see you there.”

                “You… You’re Bradley Bradshaw.”

                “Yes sir?”

                “I’m sorry. What are you doing here exactly?”

                “Uh. I’m Jake’s…” he waves a hand, suddenly at a loss for words. Wants to say boyfriend, however it feels to juvenile, but partner is far too serious and Vi is his literal business partner. “Date?” Bradley asks, wondering what Jake’s father has been told exactly.

                “I thought Maria told me your name was Leonardo…”

                “You can call me Bradley sir, Leonardo is my Italian name, and it’s the name I used the first time I met Jake.”

                “Huh. You can call me Chuck. Nice to meet you, Bradley. Of all the young men Jake could bring home he brings home you. Kinda funny.”

                “Uh…” Bradley isn’t quite sure what to do or say in reply to that.

                “Sorry. My wife loves watching you cook is all.”

                “Oh.” Oh.

                “I mean, I’ve seen some of them so often I can probably transcribe them, but Jenna really enjoys it. Especially when you yell at people.”

                “Oh, I don’t really…”

                “It’s fine son, I’m well aware it’s likely dramatized to make it more interesting. But she seems to think you’re well justified in your yelling. We enjoy watching it together and just… of all the people that Jake could have started dating he somehow picked one that his mother has a chance of recognizing. I’m assuming he told you about her.”

                “Yes sir.”

                “Less of the sir, just Chuck will do. He’s got no idea you’re on TV does he?”

                “I don’t believe so sir.”

                “Huh. Yeah, that boy never liked watching TV growing up. Being outdoors was where he wanted to be. School was a challenge, until they could teach him why things would be useful. You got yourself a handful there,” Chuck says, then shoots Bradley a wink. “And if I find out you’ve been inappropriate with my baby I’ll have you know I own a shotgun!” he says much louder and Bradley hears Jake’s exasperated dad! And he can’t help but laugh.

                It’s not what he was expecting, to simply be accepted and welcomed with open arms reminds him so deeply of the Gallo family it almost hurts in the best type of way. Because there’s also the edges of happy craziness and banter going around and the deep love they have for each other. When Jake kisses him all he gets are self-indulgent smiles aimed in their general direction. Yeah. He could get used to being part of this family too.

[edutainer2022]

I have part two in my, so technically it's a Wednesday WIP. Things take place some time after Hyperspeed. Scott is rather popular with all creatures large and nerds. Sometimes Earth has some insights to share about the Sky and celestial objects.

HELIOCENTRIC

He didn't look down from the sketchbook when a chestnut head hit his thigh as a lanky figure folded itself on the sand next to him, by the edge of the small palm grove. An exasperated grunt and an oomf followed. Virgil knew better than to ask. Partly because John had already clued him in, in broad strokes. Partly because he was engrossed in a particularly intricate shading. But mostly because if Scott had hunted him down on the beach, having barely parked Thunderbirds One after the trip to CERN, he would talk. Or maybe not. Either way, if Scott needed comfortable company and a friendly ear - Virgil was both. There was no need for extra prying. Not that time, anyway.

"Brains hates me!"

"No, he doesn't."

Virgil response was as automatic as it was nonchalant. It went without saying - Brains deeply appreciated and admired Scott. Just like all of them.

A powerful huff from the general vicinity of the ground ruffled the edge of the page. Virgil glanced down only to be faced with brilliant blue, welling with desperation. If he didn't abhor the idea of biggest brother in any sort of distress, he would find the whole situation highly amusing.

"Well, he's mad at me, at least! He was so eager to meet Tycho Reeves in person - IR was his moment to shine! Now he thinks I stole his thunder!"

The painful grimace that followed the diatribe was so full of misery, Virgil finally put away the sketchbook and reached to ruffle dark brown curls.

Dr. Tycho Reeves had professed undying friendship with one Scott Tracy after the Hyper-reel misadventure - and did so urbi et orbi. Definitely to the latter's equal befuddlement. From what Virgil gleaned out of John's quick heads up - the Tracy Industries visit to Dr. Reeve's lab in New Geneva earlier that day was met with excitement and enthusiasm that resulted in some significant damage to reasonably good china, a coffemaker, a suit that could bankroll the economy of a medium-size country, several holodiscs of cutting edge equipment blueprints, brought in for consult. And Brains' pride, apparently.

Virgil peered down again at his brother's face, still contorted by a frown. His other hand joined the task force and administered an obviously needed reassuring shoulder squeeze.

"So, you did the thing. Big deal! Brains won't hold a grudge!"

Confusion darkened the edges of the blue.

"The thing?"

"Your thing. The Scott thing. You are the gravity center of every gathering in every room you're ever in. Or a light source, more like!"

Virgil smiled at his own metaphor. He definitely liked that idea more.

"Yep, that's right! You're the sun, Scooter. We all orbit you."

If he hoped to lighten the mood and put biggest brother's mind at ease - that wasn't the achieved effect. Dark brows furrowed even more. Scott even lifted his head from the comfy, jeans clad cushion, and nearly yelled:

"That's not true!"

Virgil was beginning to feel entertained.

"Oh, yes it is! Everyone gets under the spell one way or another, Scoots. That's just the way it is!"

Virgil's large palm gave the now disheveled brunet head a pointed push back on its perch on the brother's thigh and added a soothing rake through the curls to boot. A quieter protest followed.

"I don't want that!"

Virgil hummed, fully amused now.

"Well, tough! You're just THAT awesome, brother."

The almost whisper that chased Virgil's cheeky comment switched him on high alert again. Trust Scotty to find ever more fault with himself.

"Dad was the sun. I'm not."

[I'm not him.]

He had a good hunch Scott would genuinely believe that, but it hurt just as well to see up close how little biggest brother thought of himself. Virgil gave it a pause, then made sure to catch the blue gaze, now deepened by ever ready rue.

"No. He wasn't. Dad was thunder and lightning. Mom was the light. Then you."

He stopped the depreciating shake of the head with a flex of his wrist, before it could gain momentum.

"You really don't get it, do you? You were Dad's light! You cheered him on and you supported his every endeavor, you stood by him and you made him believe he could do anything! Even after Mom. Even after TV-21. And you're ours! You let us flourish and you champion the best selves we could ever be!"

He had to gulp down what had to follow next - "and you gave up everything to burn yourself for us all!"

Bright wide-eyed blue, staring up at him, was brilliant with disbelief and barely contained tears. So Virgil didn't hesitate to shift operations into the territory he knew best how to navigate - with a tug on the sleeve he enveloped big brother into a tight hug.

TBC

[darcytaylor]

I understand your pain as a fellow non-shipper in this fandom. I don't know where to go anymore myself. I fully understand why you needed to step away. I often wonder if anyone is having any fun here anymore. There are entrenched narratives that are easily debunkable yet people will chop your head off if you dare to even suggest they aren't true. You can either join the entrenched echo chambers or get out, which I find absurd. I for one have been very over it for a while and I hope they don't put you off again because a more balanced space is desperately needed. There are more of us here than you'd think, we've just been beaten back from engaging because you can't reason with some corners of this site. The brainrot is alarming.

Thank you for sharing this with me, and letting me know that there are people who may be more like myself out there! I completely understand where you’re coming from - it really does feel like navigating a minefield at times in fandom spaces, especially when things become so polarized.

I love diving into the complexities of the characters in Bridgerton, but I also enjoy following the actors’ careers and seeing the variety of roles they take on or the work and things they do outside the show.

I still believe that speculating is fun and a natural part of engaging with any fandom. It can help keep the excitement alive between seasons or during gaps in content.

It’s also human nature to be curious about what’s going on behind the scenes with the actors or within their social circles. There’s nothing wrong with wondering what Nicola, Luke, or any of the Bridgerton cast are up to in their personal lives. It becomes tricky, though, when speculation turns into certainty or when people lock themselves into one interpretation of events.

I try to approach it by coming up with multiple possibilities instead of latching onto one theory and running with it. I believe that way, it stays playful and open-ended without diving into a rabbit hole of "this must be true." I also think it can be a healthier way of engaging because you’re acknowledging the unknowns while still allowing space for curiosity.

Nicola could be dating Jake, Luke (N or T), Eamon or the bartender that works down the street from her house. The options are endless! When you come to a conclusion with the little facts that we actually know, it can hinder the balance between curiosity and respect for the actors and their close circles.

I think it’s fun to explore all the possibilities without getting stuck on just one explanation. That way, I can stay open to new information and avoid getting swept up in the frenzy of needing certainty.

I think it should be about enjoying the journey rather than rushing to a definitive answer. Staying open to possibilities keeps the fandom fun while ensuring we respect the boundaries of the actors and their personal lives.

Bring on the possibilities!

[sketch-guardian]

Imagine the students with an mc who’s like a middle aged man and has a beer belly, I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone write about a loud middle aged man in obey me

You're right, I guess I haven't seen many headcanons about such theme either🤔so I'll do my best to fix it☺For my headcanons, however, I usually use a gender neutral MC to make everyone feel included, so I hope this small change won't bother you too much🙈(I also apologize for the delay😥classes have started in uni again and I'll have less and less time to reply to asks, I might need to close the askbox for headcanons soon😭):

"RAD CLASSMATES+NEW EXCHANGE STUDENTS WITH A MIDDLE AGED MC WHO HAS A BEER BELLY"

DEMYA

Demya loves a bit of meat on bones, she can appreciate the thinnest or most muscular physiques too, however she would find a bit of plumpness charming, because it would make her mouth water. Middle Aged MC however wouldn't have to fear being mauled, because as Demya's mate, they would be off limits and have privileges that others would not be granted. Demya may nibble or kiss Middle Aged MC's beer belly out of affection while liying down on it during cuddle sessions in her soft nest, so hopefully Middle Aged MC doesn't mind having some marks, in easy-to-hide spots. Since Demya and Middle Aged MC are both troublemakers and food lovers, they would likely be a loud and occasionally chaotic couple, but still very much in love

DOMNRA/MOBIM

Domnra is a pretty fit and sporty demon, however he wouldn't force Middle Aged MC to follow his training regime, he would leave the choice up to them, depending on how they feel, Domnra would joke about Middle Aged MC deciding to settle down with a demon of all the available options though, at such an age too. Domnra could become Middle Aged MC's drinking buddy, celebrating with glasses of alcohol and getting angry at TV, shouting and breaking havoc, Domnra would mostly be a depressed drunk though, as if Demonus eased his anger issues. In quieter moments, Domnra would hold Mobim in his arms and rest his back on Middle Aged MC's soft beer belly, playing some music to listen to together, making sure to satisfy both of their tastes in music

AZUL

Azul is a twink, so the idea of ​​carrying Middle Aged MC in his arms or holding them on his lap without using magic would be quite out of the question, at least for Middle Aged MC at first, because they wouldn't want to risk hurting Azul with their weight, however he would likely be into such stuff and, as a demon, he would still be rather resistant, so as far as he is concerned, Azul would let Middle Aged MC crush him, hell he would even thank them. Being quite eccentric, Azul wouldn't care if Middle Aged MC made a racket, to be fair he's chaotic too so they would be one of the wildest couples at parties, and if they were to suffer from insecurity due to their age or chubbiness, Azul would remind Middle Aged MC of their beauty through drawings and photographs, or straight up physical intimacy such as kisses and hugs, if the first options didn't work. Azul would like Middle Aged MC to feel confident in their own body and if they wished to lose weight, he would support them, suggesting dancing as a fun exercise

ZURI

Many demons would wonder how the hell Middle Aged MC managed to woo an ethereal and elegant woman like Zuri, the answer probably being their charm and genuine feelings winning the demon over somehow, making her overlook their appearance for a while, their relationship could almost remind a bit of the one between Morticia and Gomez, in a certain sense. The occasional loud mess might upset Zuri, who often gets migraines due to her hectic work, therefore she would appreciate if they could spend some quiet quality time together, while occasionally sharing a glass of Demonus. However, Zuri would still attempt at helping Middle Aged MC with their drinking problem and would try to clean them up a bit, by buying them expensive suitable clothes that compliment their figure and curves

ODON

Not gonna lie, the first thing that came to mind when thinking about a couple made of a middle-aged human and a horror beyond comprehension was Gravity Falls, specifically Stanford Pines and Bill Cipher, even if the dynamic would definitely be different. For Odon, most people, both on Earth and in Devildom, are quite young when compared to them, even Lord Diavolo, so they wouldn't really pay too much mind to Middle Aged MC's age, only if pointed out, it wouldn't make any difference though, especially because Middle Aged MC would still remain the youngest, even compared to the only other human in the exchange program (Solomon). Odon wouldn't care about Middle Aged MC's appearance, considering that the form in which they technically presents themselves doesn't correspond to their true monstrous appearance, so Odon would love Middle Aged MC no matter what and their messing around wouldn't even bother the eldritch horror, on the contrary it would amuse them, plus Odon would keep Middle Aged MC company while they drink, to make sure they're okay, drinking a cup of green tea instead of alcohol. Odon and Middle Aged MC would often lounge together, like an old married couple, on a couch covered in a flannel blanket while reading books, in the comfort of Odon's cabin in the woods. It would be cute to imagine such a domestic life

REMIEL

Remiel is aware of how fragile and short life can be, she considers it precious and would get quite concerned over Middle Aged MC's health status, from a logical and medical point of view. Their age would also remind Remiel of how little time she has left with Middle Aged MC and therefore, despite some somberness, she would try to enjoy as many moments as possible with Middle Aged MC, kindly trying to help them change their harmful habits, not wanting the day in which she will have to assist their soul in reaching the afterlife to approach so soon. Remiel, apart from her wings, has cold skin, so being in Middle Aged MC's arms, pressed against their soft and warm beer belly, would certainly be a new, but pleasant experience, a source of heat, perhaps enough to lull the angel of death into a light nap, which she would honestly need, as she often attends to her celestial duty. Middle Aged MC being loud would surprise Remiel, since she is more used to a calm and isolated environment, however it wouldn't bother her too much, since she literally has two uncles and an aunt, who don't know much about the concept of being quiet, whether it's because of her powerful voice (Fury), his heavy step (War) or his shenanigans (Strife)

NATHANIEL

Nathaniel would notice Middle Aged MC's age and size, however he wouldn't give too much weight to such details and would focus more on their affinity and how to spend time together. Nathaniel would be quite capable of handling Middle Aged MC being loud, after all he isn't the Archangel of Patience for nothing, however if Middle Aged MC bothered him too many times during his meditation sessions, then Nathaniel might decide to take revenge, it would be unclear how or when and Middle Aged MC would live for a while with anxiety, not knowing what to expect and when the angel would strike, usually it would just be a little tease anyway, because he's lenient. Being very chill, sometimes, Nathaniel would let Middle Aged MC sit on his lap while he meditates or while they rest like, playing with their belly as if it were a stress reliever and resting his head on their shoulder, finding the act very therapeutic. As for drinking, Nathaniel would just make sure Middle Aged MC doesn't overdo it

URIEL

Even Uriel would have no idea how Middle Aged MC managed to capture her heart and yet, much to her embarrassment, they still somehow accomplished such feat, however, due to having a reputation, the warrior angel would appreciate if Middle Aged MC avoided being loud or messy while she's busy with important celestial matters. Uriel knows how fragile humans can be and how many things can contribute to a premature death, therefore, not considering Middle Aged MC's lifestyle healthy, she would try to help them exercise, stop drinking and eat healthy, at least Uriel would do her best to not turn the experience into military training. One thing Uriel would be able to do with ease would be lifting Middle Aged MC in her arms, without effort or trouble, no matter their height or how big their beer belly is, Uriel is strong and Middle Aged MC would be like featherweight to her, so that would probably make them feel like royalty. Uriel would also enjoy the contrast between her sturdy body and Middle Aged MC's soft one

[lilbittymonster]

Day 24: Bar

Read on AO3

The Chai’s apartment was as lavish as the rest of Eulmore. The same deep green tiling with gold piping and marble pillars, high arching windows, full of plush furniture. The window of the parlor opened up to the south, and the view was of uninterrupted ocean between the heavy velvet curtains. In addition to the already lavish styling of the building itself were all manner of eclectic baubles and stacks of books between furniture. The effect was a rather precarious maze.

It was rather unsettling that Kitali once again found herself and Alphinaud at the mercy of the whims of strange nobles. If not for the clutter and the overly bright light pouring in through the window she could almost believe she was right back in the foyer of Fortemps Manor.

“Now, Alphinaud is our resident artist, but what exactly is it that you do, dear?” Dulia-Chai asked Kitali once they were settled.

“Um. Little bit of everything, I suppose,” she said haltingly. “I’m a bit of a serial hobbyist.”

“Ah. Self-sufficient,” Chai-Nuzz remarked. “An admirable trait to have in these times.”

“And what are your favourite hobbies?” Dulia-Chai asked intently, peering over the rim of her teacup.

“Needlework, mostly. Some woodcarving, some leather work. Mostly I keep my clothes from falling apart.”

“Needlework, darling, did you hear that?” Dulia-Chai said pointedly to her husband. “This young lady says she’s proficient in needlework.”

“Yes, I heard her correctly.”

“….Well?”

“Well, what?”

“Aren’t you going to ask about the ottoman? The one that’s over by the bar?”

Kitali and Alphinaud exchanged a bewildered look with each other as they bickered.

“Ottom-right, yes, the ottoman! If you could follow me for a moment, ah…” he stuttered a bit. “Begging your pardon, I don’t believe I got your name.”

“Kitali.”

“Kitali, if you could be so kind as to tell me whether or not this priceless family heirloom is salvageable?”

He led her over to a stack of what looked like table decorations tucked next to a wooden sidebar. Removing the odd shapes from their tangle and moving aside the stack of papers beneath, he revealed a worn footstool with intricate embroidery across the top. He pulled it forward out from the wall and motioned to her expectantly.

“This has been in my family since before the Flood,” he explained. “I’ve been meaning to get it repaired for some time now, but have been unable to find anyone up to the task of restoring it. Until today, I hope.”

Kitali knelt to inspect the wear. The corners of the wooden legs were scratched and dented from years of wear, but still sturdy enough. The padding had grown lumpy and some of the knots were frayed from the design on top, but the worst was the corner that looked like moths had gotten at it at some point.

“Well?” he asked, a touch impatiently.

“The frame’s still in good shape,” Kitali told him. “D’you want to have the original fabric repaired, or just remake the whole thing?”

“I, er…….dear, what do you think?” he called to his wife.

“Oh, I don’t mind either way, so long as I have something to rest my feet upon.”

Chai-Nuzz’s ears flattened as he considered.

“How difficult would it be to keep as much of the original design?”

Kitali straightened up. “Depends on what I can find. I can sew a patch over it, and it’ll be noticeable, but if I could find enough thread in the right colour I could just weave over it.”

“Well, I think we might be able to do something about that,” Dulia-Chai said as she set her teacup down. “A trip to the market district should be able to solve that. And you, young man,” she said to Alphinaud, who sat up a tad straighter, “will be needing more art supplies than that ratty old brush of yours, yes?”

“Yes, indeed I will,” Alphinaud said.

“Shall we, then?” Dulia-Chai said as she made for the door.

[writercole]

Do It Again

Summary: Watching horror movies with Boone brings you closer...in more ways than one. Words: 1200ish Warnings: Fluff. Also discussion of horror movies but nothing explicit. Credits: @ryebecca on the title help :) A/N: Fall into Fall day 2 and my first Boone fic! He's definitely the weirdest, most awkward dude ever and I love him so much.

Knocking on the door, I felt a little self-conscious. I was either the first to arrive or the last, and neither was a preferred option. The crush I had on Boone rendered me incapable of being in a confined space as him without being incredibly awkward. 

The grin he had when he opened the door dropped, his shoulders drooping when he looked around me and found that it was only me standing there. A shy smile lifted his lips as he returned his gaze to me.

“Tyler said he and Kate aren’t really scary movie people,” I explained. “I think that means they want to be left alone to do ‘couple things’ instead of coming.”

“Sounds right,” he sighed, “Dani and Lily are taking Javi out. And Dexter is working a cross stitch that he’s almost done with.”

“So it’s just you and I tonight?”

He nodded in confirmation and wiped his free hand on his jeans, swallowing hard as he looked at me. I felt just as nervous as he looked. I doubt I looked as adorable, though.

“Or, we could cancel and each do our own thing? If you’re not comfortable with it.”

“No!” he blurted out. “Let’s watch some scary movies!” He stepped to the side and gestured for me to come into the room.

“If you’re sure. I wouldn’t want to -”

“You won’t.”

“You don’t even know what I was going to say.” I stepped into the room with a smile and marveled at how tidy it was.

“I’ve never been more sure. Of a movie date. I mean, a partner. I mean someone to watch movies with,” he fumbled. I managed to catch a hint of redness on his cheeks before he turned to shut the door.

Butterflies swooped in my stomach before my brain chastised them for getting excited. It’s not like he’s awkward because he likes me. He’s just awkward in general. And that’s one of my favorite traits about him.

Seating proved to be an overthinking hellscape. I could sit in the corner, making sure that I wouldn’t get scared and clutch Boone. Or I could sit on the edge of the bed, even though my back would be aching by the end of the movie. I could sit on the floor but…yuck.

The debate in my head raged on for what seemed like hours before I decided to head over to the foot of the bed and take off my shoes. After that, I’d follow Boone’s lead. See where he sat and what he said. 

He followed pretty quickly after, flopping onto the bed into the spot next to the remote. “Your back is going to ache if you sit there for the whole movie,” he said.

I swore internally. Of course he’d remember me saying that my back started to hurt if I sat without support for too long. “I’m just taking off my shoes. Outside germs and all.”

“Oh. Yeah, yeah of course.” 

I really hoped this was a good idea. As much as he said he wanted me here, he seemed more awkward than usual. I scooted up to the headboard and leaned against it. The space between us felt like centimeters. I could feel warmth radiating off of him but also, there was something comforting as well as stiff about his posture. 

“So, what are we watching first?” I asked.

“Slasher or monster?”

“Um…Slasher, I guess?”

“Okay, Freddy, Jason, or Michael?”

“Who?”

“Please tell me you’re kidding. Those are the three most iconic slashers of all time.”

“Which one is the one in Scream?”

“That’s Ghostface.”

“Can we watch that one?”

“Original franchise or reboot?”

“There’s a reboot?”

“Oh you need a horror education,” he sighed as he scooted closer to me, turning to face me slightly.

I tried to ignore the way my heart thundered against my rib cage.

“Original Scream franchise starred Neve Campbell  as the heroine. The reboot has Jenna Ortega. Pretty decent, in all honesty, compared to like, Nightmare on Elm Street reboot. And don’t get me started on how they tried to bring Michael Meyers back. H2O really sealed up the franchise and he just keeps coming back and I don’t understand it.”

He continued on about movies I’d heard of in passing and characters I had no clue about. I have no idea how long he talked but I got lost in the sound of his voice and the way his hands moved as he explained things. He stopped talking and I cocked my head, looking up to find him shying away.

“Sorry, I got a little overexcited there,” he apologized.

“I kind of enjoyed it.”

“Really?” His eyes lit up as he looked back at me.

“Yeah. It’s obviously something you really like and I love listening to my friends talk about their passions.”

“Oh, right, yeah,” he said, shaking his head. “I mean, I’d listen to my friends talk about anything, too.” 

“So, Scream reboot?”

“Sure, if that’s what you want.”

He pressed play on the movie and shut off the lamp, plunging the room into darkness until the movie started up.

Boone’s posture had fallen after I said I’d listen to my friends. I wasn’t sure what that was about, because he was my friend. I’d love it if we could be more but I wouldn’t want to break up the team that Tyler created. And I couldn’t help but be afraid that I’d end up crushing Boone at some point and he’d leave. They always left.

The villain popped out of a closet and I jumped, clutching onto Boone’s arm, just like I feared. Both of our eyes dropped to the spot where my fingers wrapped around his bicep before meeting again. I wasn’t sure what was in his eyes so I loosened my grip and started to pull my hand away.

Surprisingly, his free hand reached over and grasped it before the arm I was clutching draped around my shoulders. He pulled me close and I breathed a sigh of relief at the way he took it all in stride. I shifted against him and heard his heart speed up in his chest.

“You okay?” I questioned. “I mean, you don’t have to -”

“I’m fine,” he whispered as he tightened his arm around me, “great, actually.”

“Are you sure?”

He tucked his finger under my chin and lifted my gaze to his. His eyes searched my face for a moment before he leaned in, his lips touching my hesitantly. 

Shock and delight filled my chest before he pulled back to look me in the eye once more. 

“You kissed me,” I muttered.

“I did.”

“Do it again?”

He smiled and his brow relaxed. "You want me to kiss you again?"

“Please.”

"Okay." Boone slid his hand up my cheek and pulled me towards him, kissing me deeper than before.

Maybe movie night wasn't so bad, after all.

[bloopitynoot]

Reading SVSSS: Chapter 16

For those who don't know, I am reading SVSSS for the first time and sharing my thoughts!

If you have not read it, there will be spoilers! Consider this a warning.

Also- if you want to follow along, I am aiming to post updates daily. You can find all the posts in the tag bloopitynoot reads SVSSS. You can also check out the intro post for context on my read.

Hello! Another day, another chapter!

I really don't have much to ramble about today, but I am back on my tea. This is a new one from the ren faire this year- vanilla chai with sugar and milk. The cup is from the same ren faire (but purchased last year).

let's go let's let's go- I am already impatient to get into this chapter.

Last chapter we ended on a cliffhanger with Luo Binghe totally unconscious- we start this chapter with Shen QIngqiu ready to rescue his man and escape!

It's really so upsetting that he is going back to trash (two bar) spiritually energy in this body when he was so used to his mushroom Unlimited Power p65

RIP Luo Binghe's skull LOL he is really being tossed around like a rag doll. SQQ needs to be more careful. p66

MXTX said forget the only one bed trope, I raise you -> There Was Only One Coffin p67

Fuck. This is actually so scary 10/10 I would pee myself if a little skeletal arm was worming it's way into the coffin I was temporarily occupying (really anything in this book's reality would make me die of fright. as an aside I was talking to my partner about this while watching MDZS donghua yesterday, in the world of cultivators I would be a dumpling stall owner. I could never with the sword training and literal corpses). pp67-68

I CANT 'extenuating circumstances'. SQQ definitely: I just HAD to kiss his cute little forehead to save our lives. p68

i'm crying LOL "a person's abdomen is supposed to be the softest spot on their body, but Luo Binghe's was uncomfortably hard against Shen Qingqiu's stomach. The farther down he pulled him, the more he was sure that Luo Binghe had an eight-pack. Was that a rock slab down there?" p70

this keeps getting worse LMAO

OOOOO Meng Mo is back! Is it weird that I kind of love this guy? He has such a cool power and is a bit of a dick, but in the best and worst of ways. Him and Airplane give similar energy and I am not mad about it. p72

oh gosh! LBH is either "fatally ill" or "close to death" p72

wait- adding to the above point. he could also be mentally very unwell :( poor buddy -> it's likely this option. p72

so even though SQQ is processing nothing , I think SQQ admitting (not naming the feeling but admitting) that he is feeling a mess of emotions about Luo Binghe is a big step for him! p73

Meng Mo seems to have a lot of feelings about LBH. I am not sure if it's just pride or what but whatever it is he is correct here, "The way this elder sees it, he (LBH) should either kill you (SQQ) or do you!" p74

PLEASE OH NO

I AM WHEEZING

+1000 Protagonist Satisfaction Points for touching LBH's "Heavenly Pillar" p76

IM DYING OH NO

WHY IS THIS EVEN A THOUGHT IF HE THINKS HE'S STRAIGHT "He couldn't exactly help Luo Binghe jerk off under these circumstances, right?!" p76 But like if not these circumstances he is cool with doing it in other circumstances???????????

oh no! SQQ blocking the blades with his bare hand for LBH p79

Dang. the Old Palace Master has been through some shit. p80

Are we getting more of Shen jiu's story??? We have Qiu Haitang here too! p81 (just as an aside because my notes did not revisit this, we do not get more of his story just weird little hints. That I hope Shang Qinghua clears up later). p81

What a terrible combo. Old Palace master is just butthurt Luo Binghe doesn't want him as a teacher or to marry his daughter and Qiu Haitang seems to be just a vile woman with a grudge against SQQ for some reason. pp82-83

Okay but as horrible as OPM is, that cultivation he's doing with his voice is kind of cool. p85

Wait. Did the Old Palace Master have a thing for Su Xiyan? This is so fucking weird for LBH and he's not even conscious pp86-87

reading further the above point got so much worse omg :(((((((((((( I'm so upset for Su Xiyun. p87

It got even worse with the implications of what it meant for Luo Binghe in that sect. That terrible terrible man deserved that horrifying death. Fuck that guy! pp 89-90

OMG SQQ, basically half dead carrying LBH, barely got away from the death flower room, and here we have Tianglang-jun back on his bullshit. p94

SQQ is in such a bad state :o pp94-95

Is this another dime??? Our demon blood piggy bank for SQQ is now at $0.40 p97

YAY! Luo Binghe is awake! (is he going to be okay mentally though??)p 99

Why is Luo Binghe so mad? Like this man just nearly died trying to get you the fuck out of there p100

Fucking finally okay, it got better LBH is realizing what SQQ did while he was unconscious pp102-103

I'm glad they cleared that up (even though there was the other added miscommunication about LBH thinking SQQ was crying when he was actually just in a fuck ton of pain). p104

I am actually so glad that the discussion was interrupted before LBH found out about the dick touching being real LOL p108

MORE DEMON BLOOD. -> SQQ's dime bank is at $0.50

How many times does this man get kidnapped?

We really ended with him being kidnapped again and with Luo Binghe being conned by his own dad. That was so rough. -500 dignity points (not really but it sure feels like it)

[thegreatwizardbutterscotch]

The Sea Hare: Birthday Special!

A Freminet x Gn! Reader

It’s September 24th, Freminet’s 18th birthday! Let’s show the little guy some appreciation.

“Freminet’s avoiding us until the party tonight. He says today is always too overwhelming.” Lynette announced as you finished helping her tie her ponytail.

“There’s a party tonight that I didn’t know about?” you cocked your head.

“It’s his birthday. Father is coming to visit tonight to celebrate with us.”

You froze.

“His birthday? Today? I-”

“Did you forget, Y/N?”

What? Forget? Hah, never!

You reassured yourself as you scrambled around the shopping district.

It’s just that September is a busy month! Yeah, and I hadn’t been watching my time. 

You stopped in multiple stores, collecting items here and there that you knew he’d like. You emerged with all sorts of things ranging from high class mechanic tools to a palm-sized paperweight featuring a little penguin on an iceberg.

Oh Archons, I don’t even know what kind of cake he likes!

You sat down and took a breath.

It’s fine. Just think. He doesn’t like foods that are too sweet, and he doesn’t like chocolate so…

You scanned the window of the nearest bakery. 

You noted the carrot cake, vanilla and toffee cake, and the blackberry purée filled cake as possible options before settling on the blackberry. Blackberry always added a wonderful tartness to counter the sugar of the frosting.

“Can I purchase two slices of the blackberry cake?”

+

You rushed back home, placing the gifts hastily in some tissue paper and a little bag. You then made your way to the Hotel Bouffes d'ete, knocking rapidly on the door.

An older child answered.

“Hello, is Freminet around?” you asked them nicely.

They squinted at you.

“What’s your name? I’ll go get him.”

“Y/N, and tell him to come down and meet me.”

You stood waiting for a few minutes before Freminet opened the door. It was obvious he had been either napping or curled in bed all day. He hadn’t bothered to brush his hair and his comportment was relaxed. He smiled with amusement at you, seeing how frazzled you seemed.

“Were you running laps around the fountain near Vasari Passage?” he crossed his arms.

“…Something like that.” you grabbed his arm and gave it a tug. “I hope you’re hungry! We’re going back to my place. I wanted to celebrate your birthday with you, but… I know how the Knave is about friends.”

Freminet followed you without a question.

“I was hoping you’d figure something out. You always do.” he said with a hint of admiration. You noticed, pride welling up in your chest.

“You know me. I get everything done at the last minute, but I always get it done.”

You led him back to the boarding house, setting up in the little breakfast parlor. You plopped him down in a chair and scurried over to the kitchen where the cake slices had been chilling. You stuck in a candle, lit it, and cautiously set before him the small plate and fork.

“Happy birthday!” you placed your hands on his shoulders and leaned down. “Make a wish.”

He shut his eyes and hummed for a minute before blowing the candle out. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and hugged him.

“Yay! Was it a big wish or a little one?” you asked.

“It… depends. But to me, it’s a big wish.” he said quietly.

You gave his shoulders a clap and then flitted over to your own cake and sat.

“Well, birthday wishes always come true so if you’re going to make a big wish now’s the chance. Of course, you get another one later tonight. Lucky~”

He took the candle out and sat it on the side of the plate.

“Still, you didn’t have to buy cake for me, Y/N. I’ll be eating so much cake these next few days…” he trailed off with dread.

“What, you’ll never eat cake again or something?”

“I might turn into cake, is what I mean.” he took a bite of it nonetheless.

You both took a moment to savor it.

“So… you’re old now.”

He paused, looking up at you with confusion and mild concern.

“Old?”

“You’re 18 now, Mimi. That’s old.”

He blushed heavily at the use of “Mimi”. 

“If I’m ‘old’, then you aren’t doing much better. And what the heck kind of name is ‘Mimi.’”

“Your new nickname, as of today!” you raised a hand to your mouth as you laughed.

He decided not to protest, taking another bite to silence himself. You poked the dense cake with your fork.

“It’s a little dry, I’m going to pour some milk. Do you want some?” you stood again.

“That’d be great, if you will.” He nodded.

You returned shortly, carrying two glasses to the table.

“If you turned into cake, I think you’d become a blueberry muffin with those little sugar crystals on top.” you stated.

“W-What makes you say that?” he asked with a soft laugh.

“Well… blueberry muffins are small like your voice, sturdy like your strength, and sweet like your heart! Also, your eyes kind of look like blueberries anyway.”

Are you saying I’m a sweetheart? he pondered, blushing a little.

“I bought you some presents too.”

“You did? Thank you.”

“Psh, what kind of person would I be if I didn’t buy birthday presents for my favorite guy?”

Poor thing, now he’s even more red in the face.

“You spoil me sometimes.”

You chuckled and shook your head, finishing off the frosting on your fork.

“And I will continue to do so!”

He groaned as you went off to fetch the gifts. However, he would not be grumbling when he removed the tissue paper and revealed the high class mechanic tools.

“Y/N! These are crazy expensive!” he exclaimed, taking the screwdriver set out, his eyes sparkling as he inspected them. 

“Well, I heard you say you would love to have them. I wanted to buy you something you’d actually use.” you leaned against the table, watching him enthusiastically dig through the tissue paper, uncovering other items. There was a blubber-beast chain for his diving gear, a box of four raspberry tarts, and a pocket-sized sketchbook.

He took the little paperweight out and giggled at the penguin.

“Ok, this is pretty cute.” he set it on the table. “I can use it to keep my instruction manuals open!”

“That’s what I was thinking! It’s like it had your name on it.”

He looked up at you with a wide smile. 

“Thanks for this.” he said sincerely. “I know you’re busy with schoolwork and your work for the theater. I’m happy to celebrate with you.”

You crossed your arms with a modest expression.

“I can always find time for my close friends and such. You only have one birthday a year, after all, I have to be there.”

He put the gifts back in the bag and set it on the other side of the empty cake plate. 

“Hey, would you wanna go for a walk in the Dryas Woods with me?” he fiddled with some torn tissue paper. “I want to go somewhere peaceful before the excitement of the party.” 

You hummed in approval, taking the empty plates to the sink.

“I can’t deny you today of all days. We can go when you’re ready.” 

+

It was a cooler day, still a little damp from the hours of steady rain they received the day before. The leaves above created a pattern on the path below.

“This way, I want to show you something!” he beckoned you with his hand and veered off the path.

The breeze was more earthen here, further away from the sea. Sparrows flew away from the trees as they passed underneath them, chirping lightly. They came out into a small meadow between two pine hills.

Honeybees zipped through the wildflowers: sunflowers, cranesbills, and bushes of white peonies. 

You ran your hands over the knee-high blooms, careful not to disturb working bees.

Freminet sat down on a rock in the middle of the field, observing the closest flowers around him.

You sat down below him on the slight hill, the little meadow immediately giving you peace of mind.

“I come here a lot when I’m alone.” he explained. “The flowers growing tall, the wildlife that comes when you sit still long enough. I have a lot of places like this, but none just as perfect as this one. Even Pers likes it.” 

A little gust of wind blew by, some petals loosing into the air. His hair, damaged by an excess of saltwater, wisped around his face. He closed his eyes for a moment and then gave you a small smile.

“I wanted to share it with you. What do you think?”

“I love it here.” you replied, flopping back and laying in the flowers. “But I’m supposed to be the one giving you things today.”

He rolled his eyes.

“This is a gift for me- getting to be in my favorite spot with someone I trust.”

You closed your eyes.

“It is one of the best feelings to welcome someone into a space that is your own. I wish life could be more like this, slow and fragrant and thoughtful.”

He nodded and plucked a cranesbill bloom, twirling it in his hands. A handful of butterflies meandered about the colorful field.

You stayed until Freminet’s party neared, watching birds and sharing tales. You walked with him back to the boarding school to retrieve his birthday gifts and then escorted him to the Hotel Bouffes d'ete. 

“Have fun tonight!” you exclaimed, waving at him as you backed away.

He waved back.

“See you later!”

You turned and began to go home, the night growing chilly. The light from the Hotel was inviting, shining on the stone street as if to display its pride for the inhabitants. 

Freminet’s home, a place you could never know. 

A place where tonight, his found family would adore him and celebrate his life thus far. 

A place where he usually returned after a day of violence and isolation.

You had your opinions, but what mattered tonight was that Freminet was loved. 

And he would always be very much loved, even if the Hotel were to disappear.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*neuvillette sniffles in the background (he had a rough day yesterday)*

ITS INTERNATIONAL POOKIE WOOKIE DAY GUYS! Scene 3 will be out soon, I just had to detour and give you guys something for today.

the birthday art is PRECIOUS

[fangirlingfromdownunder]

A Sweet Mishap - Chapter 24

Pairing - Jensen Ackles x Reader 

A/N: I just want to start by thanking everyone for all the love on this story so far. Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list. This chapter is a lot heavier, so please read the TW below and only read on if you feel comfortable doing so.

Potential Trigger Warnings: heavy violence, mentions of rape

A Sweet Mishap Masterlist | Main Masterlist

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Just as I’m about to drift off, a loud banging makes me shoot upright. In my half-asleep state I run to the door hoping that Jensen changed his mind and came up for a final goodbye. But instead of his warm embrace and a passionate kiss, when I open the door I feel a cold hard sting on my cheek as my ears ring with the sound of a slap. Tears burn as I blink and try to make sense of what happened. I take a step back but the unfamiliar man follows and snatches my wrist and pulls me to his chest harshly.

“Where is she?” he spits out. I recoil at the feeling of specks of his saliva hitting my cheek. I keep my lips sealed and fight back tears. I know I need to stay strong. I gather up all my courage and elbow him as hard as I can in the ribs and try to pull away but he digs his nails into my wrist as he yanks my other arm around my back before gripping my hair and pulling me into a tight headlock. I scream at the pain but also in an attempt to wake someone. He pushes me further inside and slams the door behind him. “Where is she?” he spits again harshly near my ear. 

I try to pull away again but his grip on my hair is tight and I wince at the pain. Despite the pain I manage to spit out just as harshly, “Like I’d tell you, you abusive son of a bitch!” He yanks my hair again and twists one of my arms back to the point where I’m terrified it’s either going to pop out of its socket or the bone’s going to snap completely. I refuse to give in. “This what you did to her? Pin her in place and force her to have sex with you?”

His grip tightens and I brace myself for the snap and unimaginable pain, but it doesn’t come. Instead he leans down, takes my earlobe between his teeth roughly and pulls back ever so slightly and growls, “I bet you’d like that. Nice and rough.” He trails his lips down my neck where Jensen’s had been not an hour earlier. “You won’t tell me where she is, I’ll take you instead. All I need’s a nice wet hole anyway.”

He manhandles me until I’m laying face-down on the couch, both hands pinning tightly at the small of my back with one of his hands. I try to kick out but he sits on my legs. I lose the fight to my tears as I feel one of his hands reach around to undo the button and zip on my jeans. I feel helpless and scared in a way I never have before. But instead of worrying about myself, I wonder how many times Anna had to endure this treatment and for how long. He slips his hand into the waistband and tries to pull them down but struggles with one hand. Obviously only thinking with rage and his dick he lets go of my hands briefly to pull my jeans and underwear past my hips. As he does, I quickly scramble around reaching for my phone which I know is amongst the cushions somewhere. My fingers briefly stab and glide across the cracked glass but I don’t get a hold of it before he’s roughly yanking my arms back. I feel the vibrations under me, sparking some hope that I managed to do something. Luckily it’s silenced by the sound of him undoing his belt and jeans. I have no way of knowing who called, whether I got the emergency function or just a random person from my contacts, and no way of answering anyway. He grips my hair and yanks me upright so my bare ass is touching his front. I scream out again and he slaps me. 

“Last chance bitch, tell me where she is or you’re becoming my new plaything.”

“At least use a condom, you pig. I’m not on birth control. So unless you wanna pay me child support.” Feeling his erect dick against my ass I fully start to panic. Seeing as it’s been ages since I last slept with anyone I let my script lapse. And as much as I don’t want to be raped by this abusive psycho, I also don’t want to be forced to carry his child. I pull against him with all my strength and scream at the top of my lungs. He slaps me across the face again and covers my mouth with one hand effectively muffling my sounds. This gives me better access to lick and bite at his disgusting skin. He recoils as my teeth sink into his palm. With his weight on my legs I can’t move, but I use the opportunity to free my hands and reach for my phone again. I manage to swipe across and return the missed call, but I don’t see who it is. He snatches my phone from my hands and pegs it at the tiles causing the screen to shatter completely before switching to black. I continue to scream myself hoarse as he crushes me into the couch. I can feel against my back that the pain had an impact but he’s now even more irate. With all of his weight holding my front against the cushions, he takes his free hand and slaps — not sexual spanks, hard, bruising slaps — my bare ass countless times.

My head is spinning, overrun with fear and pain. I can’t move my body. I can’t roll over, pull my pants up, reach for my broken phone, I’m completely petrified. I block out everything as I accept my fate. I can’t even tell if I’m crying or screaming anymore. I can’t hear myself. I barely even feel the lasting sting of the pain he’s inflicted. I just feel numb.

When he speaks again he sounds like I’m underwater. It’s muffled and slurred and I can’t focus on the words. I just lay there completely numb letting it happen. I have no fight left. He’s got me completely pinned and I have no mode of contact. I tell myself it’s over.

I don’t feel him pull away or stand up. I don’t hear the door breaking down. I don’t notice when a group of people enter the apartment. I’m too far removed. I can’t even pull away when I’m wrapped in a blanket and pulled into someone else’s arms. My limbs are too stiff, my mind is too numb. When my chin is tilted up to meet the person’s eyes I can’t focus, everything is blurred. But as numb as I am, I know it’s someone else. I feel warmer, safe. And my body shuts down.

When I can finally open my eyes all I see is white. There’s a dull, steady beeping from somewhere behind me. As my senses slowly return I feel a weight on my right hand. I instinctively squeeze, but am shocked when the feeling is reciprocated. I furiously blink my eyes and try to sit up.

“Hey, Hey, Darlin’. It’s okay now. You’re safe. Take a breath for me.”

I look towards the voice and can’t believe my eyes or ears. I must still be asleep or hallucinating. My mind starts to race. Am I still on that couch? Is that rapist still here?

The beeping speeds up and I feel a squeeze again as the deep voice continues. “You’re safe now. I’m right here. You’re safe. Deep breaths.”

I try to hold onto his words. Real or not, they’re grounding and comforting. I’m just shocked that the voice of my subconscious is not Stella or my parents. It’s a man that I’ve known for two and a bit months. But when the weight in my hand disappears it all starts to feel real. My eyes fly open and I finally manage to survey my surroundings. There’s an IV in my arm, a clip on my finger and monitors to my sides. I sit up quickly and look around for my things. There’s no way I can afford this treatment. As I swing my legs off the side of the bed I hear footsteps behind me. 

“Ms. Y/L/N, it’s good to see you’re awake and doing better but we need you to stay in bed while we run a few more tests.” I reluctantly turn around to face the voice. “I’m Doctor Matt, the paramedics brought you in after you passed out from what at this stage seems like a panic attack, but we want to be sure…Especially considering the circumstances under which they were called.” He takes a few steps closer to the bed with a tablet in his hands. “There’s a few questions I need to ask you, but let me know if at any stage it becomes too much.”

I nod but then my eyes drift past the doctor to the man standing in the doorway. His arms are crossed over his chest, a look of worry etched on his face and his emerald eyes look bloodshot. He nods at me, “I’ll be in the waiting room.” I nod back as he turns and disappears behind the curtain.

“We’ve checked your physical injuries and they appear superficial and will heal in time, but you can take anti inflammatories for the pain. However, given the circumstances I wanted to offer for one of our psych counsellors to speak with you before we discharge you and let the police do their questioning.”

I look at the doctor and hesitantly ask, “Did you do a rape kit already?”

He shakes his head. “We wanted to wait for your consent. But also, as the man responsible is already in custody there may be no reason to put you through that. But if you want to be sure, I can ask someone to come down and run one.”

I nod. “I need to know. What if-What if I’m pregnant?”

“Unfortunately there would be no way of knowing this soon. If you take the test we’ll know if there’s any signs of ejaculate, but regardless we can also provide emergency contraception.”

I nod. “I want both. I need to know. I’ve been through too much to not know.”

“Okay. I’ll ask someone our sexual assault unit to come down.”

I nod again, but then ask, “How much extra will all this cost? You should already know I don’t have health insurance. I can’t afford-”

“We can see if we can register you for NYC Care to try and bring the bill down. In the meantime, did you want me to send your boyfriend back in to wait with you?”

“My boyfriend?” I shake my head in confusion and then it clicks. “Uh, sure.”

He notices my hesitation. “I can tell him you’re resting?”

“No it’s okay. I should talk to him.”

“You coud wait until after you speak with psych. I know this must be a difficult situation.”

“Thanks, but no. I should talk to him.”

Doctor Matt nods and walks out of the thin, paper curtain. A few long minutes later, the curtain rustles again and Jensen walks in. I want to fight with him and tell him to go to Vancouver, that he shouldn’t have skipped his flight for me, but instead I burst into tears. He rushes to my side and sits on the edge of the bed. He hesitantly takes my hand and pulls me into his arms.

“You’re safe. I’ve got you now.” He rubs his hands up my back as he hushes and soothes me. 

“Y-You shouldn’t-”

“Hey, hey. I’m exactly where I should be. I’m just glad I was here. I can’t imagine…I’m so sorry.”

I continue to cry into his shoulder while he holds me close. “Y-you t-told … boyfriend…”

“I’m sorry. I know, they wouldn’t let me in otherwise…it doesn’t have to mean anything. I don’t expect anything from you right now. You just need to heal, but I also wanted to be here for you.” I can tell there’s so much more he wants to say but is holding back for me. 

“Jens…H-How d-d-“

“You were typing for ages. Those bubbles were there for ages and it seemed off and then when I called you didn’t answer. And the second and third time it went directly to massagebank. And then I realized…” He hugs me closer. “I’m so sorry. I should have told Clif to take you to your friend’s.”

Hearing him blame himself breaks me further. I try to hug him back. “Thank you for saving me,” I manage to get out between sobs. 

“I wish I could’ve gotten there sooner or got the emergency services. I’m sorry you went through so much.”

The curtain shuffles again and a female doctor steps inside. I pull slightly away from Jensen to look at her. “Hi Ms. Y/L/N. I’m Dr. Julie, I’m a sexual assault examiner, Dr. Matt said you wanted to get a rape test.” I nod and Jensen stands up but I grab his hand. 

“Please stay.”

“Are you sure?”

“Please…”

Dr. Julie looks at both of us. “He’s welcome to stay if that’s what you want as the patient, but if he does, I need to warn you both that if it comes up positive and you decide to report this crime to the police he could be asked to be a witness.”

Jensen nods. “That’s fine by me.” He looks at me, “I called the emergency services in the first place, I’m already a witness. I’ll do whatever you need me to. Whatever makes you feel comfortable.”

I nod. “Stay.”

He helps me lay back down on the pillows before sitting on the edge of the bed and facing me. He keeps holding my hand while the doctor gathers all the supplies. She then helps pull the blanket down and checks over my whole body while taking some swabs and samples.

Jensen squeezes my hand comfortingly as he keeps his eyes on my face, not straying once.

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