#or try to anyway! we can't seem to figure this thing out lol

[keeps-ache]

ohhh my lucks and misfortunes

[blujayonthewing]

so in juniper's campaign we've just found ourselves in a high-stakes situation that I as a player do frankly find stressful and am anxious about, but hey hi also the DM was like 'okay here are the exact mechanics of how this is going to work because I don't want to surprise you with serious repercussions, also here are all the options you will have to try to do something about the situation-- [affected player] what do you think? honest feedback, I don't want it to feel unfair, I want to be clear that I am not just trying to kill your character, and if it ends up being badly balanced we can revisit it down the road' and oh my god I could COLLAPSE and WEEP with gratitude

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[kingkat12]

pornography (eric draven x reader)

WARNINGS: 18+, foul language, groping/fondling, dry-humping lol, mentions of substance abuse

summary: when you finally talk to Eric Draven in rehab, it doesn't take long before you get drawn together by a force stronger than anything you have ever encountered. it doesn’t help the situation that you eventually find out Eric has been drawing pictures of you… nude

word count: 2,337 PART 1, PART 2, PART 3

a/n: this is for all the girlies like me that just came home from watching The Crow and got their mind blown by how hot Bill was in it... holy fuck. had to write this blurb because I am so shaken up, I can't feel my face. enjoy!! there will be more parts hihi...

"I fucking hate pink," 

I couldn't believe that was the first thing I said to him-- the dark and broody stranger I had been eyeing through my first few weeks in rehab. He stared back at me, confusion swimming in his big green eyes, probably pondering why I had sat down next to him in the cafeteria. "Pardon?"

"It's a little ridiculous," I tried, watching as he put down his cutlery, pushing his food away as he gave me his full attention. Tugging at my pink sweater, which we were all wearing, I let out a nervous chuckle. "Whose idea was it to put a lot of addicts in pink, anyway?"

My eyes darted down to his hands as I waited for his answer-- they were huge up close, and completely covered in tattoos. I hadn't noticed them from afar; I had only noticed the ones peeking through the top of his shirt when he would pass me by in the hall, or the big eye he had on his chest that I had seen while passing by his room. I knew it wasn't nice to peek into his room while he was changing, but I was quite frankly starved of any male contact-- any girl would go crazy in here. 

He eventually shrugged, giving me the answer I least expected; "I guess pink is supposed to be a calming colour. It's not that bad," I watched as the corners of his mouth tugged upwards, giving away hints of amusement. "Aren't you girls supposed to like pink?"

"Maybe," I mumbled, nudging food around on my plate with my fork. "I just don't like to wear it. It doesn't suit me."

The handsome stranger didn't seem to agree, another shrug following accompanied by a shy laugh. "I can't figure out whether you're being sincere or searching for compliments,"

This was most definitely not how I wanted to come off. I straightened up, resting my elbows against the table as I cleared my throat. "I'm just trying to make conversation,"

"... Why?"

"Because you've been staring at me almost as much as I've been staring at you," I put down my fork, hoping he didn't see how nervous I was. In truth, he had been staring-- it wasn't all purely one-sided. I had caught him staring at me in the courtyard, on my way to the shower, and I had also caught him lingering outside my room several times. He would usually leave when I came out, disappearing down the hall with speed I wouldn't even dream to catch up with. 

He finally gave in to a smirk, nodding to himself as he lowered his head. "Sorry," It was clear that he hadn't thought he'd be called out like this. However, something told me he wasn't too upset about being caught either. 

"Don't be," I said, feeling my anxiety ripping through my veins. Why was I indulging? "I just--"

It was at this moment that a guard appeared behind him, yanking him away from the table with a harshness that made me gasp. I clasped my hand over my mouth, watching as he barely reacted to the brutality. 

"Guys and girls eat separately!" the guard yelled at me, slamming his fist down on the table. 

My eyes widened, looking back at the handsome stranger. "But I-- I was the one who sat down here, he didn't do anything!" I protested, watching as the guard grabbed him and led him away. Groaning, I ran my hands through my hair, frustrated with the rules at this place. Why was it so fucking strict?

I eventually looked up just in time to see that the man had managed to turn around, smirking my way; "I'm Eric!" he said, holding back a laugh as he was shoved along the cafeteria for everyone to see.

Despite the horror washing over me for getting him in trouble, I managed to croak out my name as well. It seemed that he appreciated that I had at least tried to stick up for him-- What was it that I had just started?

My question would be answered a lot quicker than I had expected. 

A few days passed, and more looks and stares were exchanged. I was dying to talk to Eric again. I knew I hadn't been sent to rehab to make friends or get feelings for someone, but something was gnawing at me to talk to him again. I wanted to be around him constantly; what was happening to me? I recognized this feeling-- it was the same feeling I got when I really, really craved something... Fuck, how I missed drugs. Maybe Eric was turning into a substitute?

It wasn't often that the door to Eric's room was open, but today it was. I wouldn't have noticed it if I hadn't taken the extra lap around the institute as usual, hoping to get a glimpse of him through the small window in his door. But today, I didn't have to get on my tippytoes to get a look-- there he was, picking up several drawings that had been scattered around the floor. His room looked like a mess, completely unlike how I was used to seeing it through the tiny window. This looked like the result of one of those raids that the prison guards sometimes did when they suspected there were hidden drugs in a patient's room. 

I felt sorry for him; I knew how horrible it could feel to have someone rip through all your stuff. But as I bent down and picked up a few drawings that were at my feet, my lips parted in surprise.

It seemed I wasn't the only one caught off guard; Eric noticed me standing in his doorway, letting out a relieved sigh as he watched me inspect his drawings. He called out my name, leaning against the wall as he sized me up and scanned me, crossing his arms over his chest. 

I cleared my throat; "Is this... me?" I held up the first drawing of the bunch. It was a sketch of me sitting in the courtyard, and I was sure that it was me-- I suppose it was my shock asking for confirmation. 

Eric snickered, kicking off the wall. "Yeah... Sorry,"

"Stop saying sorry," I shuffled through the drawings, finding he had drawn me in multiple settings, and it was clear that I had been watched the few weeks I'd been here. "These are beautiful, Eric... I guess I'm honoured--" My words trailed off as I finally approached the last drawing. Was that...?

He didn't even try to take it away from me. Eric sighed, looking away as his cheeks flushed a light pink, similar to our uniforms. 

Judging by his reaction, I had a feeling he wasn't so against me seeing this. It was a sketch of me, after all-- nude. 

I had to swallow rather hard for anything to go down. I couldn't pinpoint why I wasn't absolutely horrified at this.  "So... this is what you've been up to in here, huh?" There was no stopping the smirk that spread across my lips, holding back a flustered giggle. "This is next-level pervy, do you know that?"

It didn't take long before Eric's big hands ripped the drawings out of my hands, turning away as he shook his head. "Every artist needs a muse, no?"

"A muse? How can I be your muse if we don't know each other?"

"That's not how it works," he mumbled, throwing away the drawings into a heap on the bed. "Your beauty is all I need to get inspired."

This was enough to shock me into silence. I inhaled a sharp breath, stepping into Eric's room despite knowing it was forbidden. "So now you think I'm beautiful?"

Eric hummed, finally turning to meet my eyes. "It hasn't been the biggest secret, has it?" There was something playful about him, shameless, as though it didn't matter to him that I had just found his handmade porn. "It gets a little lonely in here, I guess. These drawings just... run out of me like water. Can't control it."

There was something so unimaginably tantalizing about Eric. Everything about him made me want to jump him then and there-- was it maybe the result of my withdrawals that were turning my brain into further mush? In a normal setting, this would have creeped me out to infinity and beyond, but knowing this was coming from the man I had been lusting after from afar for several weeks made me excuse it in a heartbeat. 

I had no idea what possessed me to close the door to his room and lock it, knowing the repercussions could be severe if we were caught. But Eric didn't seem to mind; his green eyes widened, watching my every move like a hawk.

"It was really pretty and all... The drawing, I mean," I said, inching closer to where he had sat down on the bed. "But would you maybe want some inspiration for the next one?"

Eric's plush, pink lips parted, eyes rounding out in surprise. Despite his shock, his big hands reached out for me as I came closer, and he pulled me in between his legs. I could feel him caressing my back through my shirt, holding me with the utmost gentle touch. "I'll take all I can get," he murmured, looking up at me through his brows, a knowing smirk spreading across his face. 

I let out a giggle as he pressed his lips against my stomach through my shirt, enjoying the intense feeling of someone against my skin again after all this time. Eric pulled away, glancing at the door before slowly trailing his fingers under my shirt, testing the waters. 

It didn't take long before that wasn't enough for him-- my breath hitched as Eric grabbed my waist, pulling me down with him on the bed. I barely had time to think before the euphoric feeling of being kissed engulfed me. Our lips met in an open, soft kiss, almost as though we were scared to break the other if we were too needy or harsh. As I straddled him, I felt his hands tugging at my shirt, dipping back under the fabric once more. His fingers gently ghosted over my lower back, eventually ending up trailing small circles with his thumbs along the underside of my bra. 

If I hadn't been so starved of any human contact in here, I would've never jumped the opportunity like this. But none of us knew how long we had until the guards would bust us, and it only fueled the adrenaline pumping through our veins. Our kisses became desperate, hungry, and I let out a whimper against his lips as he took the liberty of cupping my chest, feeling me up to his heart's delight. I knew I had been waiting for this moment since the first time I saw him, and I wasn't about to let it slip through my fingers-- I decided to let him do whatever he wanted to me, no matter what. 

I could feel Eric's cock twitch beneath me, clearly aroused. It was also at this moment that he made me sit up, tugging my shirt off of me before laying back down to scan me. Was he memorizing my body for his next sketch? It wasn't every night that I had a handsome stranger beneath me like this, so I allowed him to trail his hands up and down my body, lips parting in delight. "Fuck... Yeah, this will do," he murmured, pupils dilating at the sight before him whether he wanted them to or not.

"You sure?" I asked, giggling to myself. My hands rested against his broad chest, letting out a sigh of delight; God, he was sexy. As I shifted in his lap, Eric's breath hitched as I seemingly sat down in the exact right spot. Almost as though he was possessed by instinct for a moment, he grabbed my hips, rocking me against him through the fabric of our clothes. 

Who would've thought I'd be dry-humping this stranger and enjoy it so much? My hands gripped his shirt, a quiet moan spilling past my lips-- I had forgotten this feeling. This was mostly something I did when I was a teenager, before I figured out how to have proper sex with my high school boyfriend. But it felt so damn fucking good, desperate; it didn't take long before I leaned back down, capturing his plush lips in another kiss. 

I craved him like water. I wanted him against me, in me, for him to take me in every possible position ever-- a deep, dark part of me knew I would be insatiable from now on. 

But our moment of ecstasy was interrupted when a guard started banging his fist against the door, his muffled yells barely registering through my arousal. Despite my dazed state, it didn't take me long to drape my shirt back on, climbing off Eric with wobbly knees. "Shit," I mumbled, turning to him with wide eyes. "I'm screwed. We're screwed."

Everything about him was so damn beautiful. The kiss-swollen lips definitely didn't help how gorgeous I thought he looked right now. Despite the situation, knowing we were in deep shit, Eric let out a soft chuckle; "I don't think you're screwed enough, actually. We'll get to that another time," 

My eyes widened as I gave into a light giggle. There was no way this was happening-- had my naughty rehab dreams come true? The guard banging against the door was drowned out by the incessant ringing in my ears that festered through my mind as Eric leaned down to kiss me one last time; "I hope to see you around, if they don't kill us,"

"Yeah," I breathed, only now realizing how tall he was as I looked up to meet his gaze. This man was towering over me. Holy shit. "Can't wait to see your next masterpiece."

I couldn't wait. I really couldn't.

(a/n: PART 2, PART 3 here!! enjoy<33)

[notmuchtofind]

public eye pt2 | d.s

tw: low appetite, possible miscarriage, cheating

pt 1 here

a/n: it’s finally out lol!! tysm for the interaction on the past fic🥹 i hope you enjoy! lmk your thoughts x

"drew if it's not what you want and it's what I eventually want, are we even right for each other? What are we doing? You don't care for me like you usto, you're not the same. you're a dick" you say trying not to shout

"I don't know what I want right now?" Drew states, not looking you in the eyes.

How's he being so calm? Why is he doing this? This is not like drew.

"fuck you." You stand up out of the chair and walk right out of the cafe doors, tears start streaming down your face and you try to hide your face with the palm of your hand...

*snap* followed by a flicker

*snap* *snap*

fuck.

you look around...

"Is that paparazzi?" you mumble to yourself 

you walk faster to your car, quickly opening the door and throwing your bag on the backseat, you fumble to turn the engine on and see slight flickers through the rearview mirror...this is the last thing you need right now.

_________________________

After setting your keys aside on the kitchen table and kicking your shoes off, you immediately undressed out of the clothes you had picked out to see Drew in and chucked on your dressing. spending the rest of that day on the couch. Tears would brim in your eyes, often spilling over through the course of the day as you'd replay what had been said by drew in your mind. And there was no text from him. no apology, no checking up on you, no nothing...maybe this was really over? It seemed to all happen so quickly. How could you go from, what people knew as the 'IT' couple, to being, well...nothing.

Passed out on the couch, you are awoken by the pinging of notifications coming from your phone. In a dazed state your initial thought is that Drews trying to get hold of you. Your hand fumbles around the couch as you follow the sound trying to relocate the phone. You pick it up, eyes half wide, and check the time. 4:07am.

"fuck" you mumble too yourself, you've been on this couch for nearly 12 hours...

As your eyes wander down from the timestamp at the top of your phone screen, you lock your gaze onto the first notification.

Twitter : @drewobxlover03 Tagged you in a post.

'okay, pretty normal?' you think to yourself 

but as your sleepy eyes drift down some more...

6,789 more.

You quickly adjust your position on the couch, now sitting up as your back leans against the arm of it... your gaze widens.

Too caught up in your own trail of thoughts and distress when you entered your home earlier, The flickers from the paparazzi camera didn't even cross your mind. You were used to it to say the least, but you'd forgotten the difference in what they may have captured earlier on...

Your finger glides over the notifications and swipes to open.

You're met with a picture grid.

A "slideshow" full of your swollen teary face. Drews hands flailing around at you through the cafe windows. your figure towering over drew as you got up out of your seat. You abruptly dash out of the cafe doors...

The number on your twitter activity heading just keeps rising... and rising. 

A pit in your stomach starts to grow, but You can't help but click on more, its a bad idea... 

Met by more photos of you from different angles, red streaks from tears that have trailed down your cheeks. Feelings of embarrassment overcome your being.

until the embarrassment turns into dismay.

Your palm meets your mouth, shocked by the images on your phone screen, you're breathed.

They're in a car...pictures of him, and her... touching her face?...They're laughing? they’re way too close for your liking.

your heart begins swelling with hurt, you feel a physical pain ache within your chest, thoughts that it may almost rupture.

You scan the comments, your thumb appears to be scrolling too fast for your eyes to catch up. 

@user0844628495: OMFG HE DIDN'T TT!!???

@Chaseforeverxoxo: I never liked y/n anyways lol.

@obxstufffff: Who is she??? 

@starkeyandy/l/n20: no no no no!!! please, I don't believe in true love fr :((((((

@user984763097: I hate men.

You should've known from the moment Drew was being distant after he started shooting for the new film that there was something off, that he'd possibly found another girl. it just never seemed to cross your mind. Not your drew? Not after nearly 4 years and especially not after you guys were so public with your relationship. 

Maybe it lingered in your subconscious...but your heart was too heavy to allow yourself to slip that possibility to the front of your mind. You feel like a fool.

The only person who knew you and drew just as equally was Madelyne. After phoning her up and apologising for how late it was, you explained the situation. she offered to come round and comfort you, and you allowed her to do just that, as you sobbed into her arms she was wiping your tears. She didn't say much, she just held you...the truth is there's not much she could say...at least not to you anyways. But she promised the next time she and Drew would come into contact it would not end well, and she was adamant that it would be the last time she would willingly be in the same room as him. Even though you met Madelyn through drew, you and her hit it off so quickly, it's like you found your platonic soulmate as well as your romantic one...or so you had thought.

~~~~~~~

Madelyn was passed out on the opposite side of the couch when you decided to get up and get some water, your appetite was certainly not present but you figured you should hydrate yourself, your tears had drained your body from water. You glance over to the kitchen as you make your way there. The time reads 8am on the digital clock within the microwave.

As you drag your feet around the kitchen, collecting a glass to fill with water, your ears prick up to the sound of a knock at your door. Confused, you slowly redirect your journey and turn to the front door. You peak through the peephole, to find the boy you've been in hysterics over for the past, well...however many hours.

He knocks again, this time a little louder.

Your mind starts racing, your heart begins to pound and you get that ever so familiar feeling of anxiety that rushes over you.

You shake your head in distress and you battle with your thoughts on what to do next...

"y/n...please, open the door... I know you're not asleep"

He's right, he knows you well enough to know your mind wouldn't allow you to sleep for more than a couple hours at a time when you're feeling upset.

You glance over to the couch where Madelyn still lays, her breaths slow and fall steadily.

You step a little closer to the door frame and lean your weight onto one side. "um, Drew...I-I really don't feel like speaking right now"

"please y/n, just open the door, let me explain myself... I- i've been shit I know and ...i'm sorry, can you just hear me out?" Drew utters through slight cracks in his voice.

Tears brim in your eyes as you listen through the door to the words that trail out of Drews mouth...you tilt your head back and gasp for air as you try and hold back your wave of emotions. You want to see him, you want to talk, but you feel like you're almost stuck, unable to think straight, you're not ready for the emotional baggage that a conversation like this would bring right now. You figure there's no real explanation on why Drew has treated you the way he has for the past couple of months, and no excuse for acting the way he had in the photos you'd seen, it all hurt you, and it was valid. 

Your brain is scattered trying to figure out the right way to go about all of this...but almost before your mind could tell you no, your hand reaches for the hinges to unlock the front door.

your eyes lock together, and you can see Drews been crying, they're bloodshot and his eyebags slightly swollen. You look down at your feet as you quietly step outside the front door and into the apartment block hallway. "i've got to come out here, Madelyn's asleep..." you whisper slightly. Drew nods sheepishly.

as you close the door and shuffle your feet in front of Drew, you look up to him and fold your arms. "so?...you wanted to talk to me what do you want you want to say?" you question

"I just wanted to say i'm sorry, that I never meant to hurt you, you were right, I have been a dick, i've been scared and stressed and i've made some stupid decision I-"

"did you sleep with her?" you interrupt, you couldn’t truly hear drew out until you got off what was on your mind, you just needed to know first.

"huh?" He questions, his eyebrows burrowing slightly 

"Did you sleep with her?" you utter through a passive tone

" I-what do you mean ?"

"Ive seen the fucking photos Joseph! did you. sleep. with her?" you exclaim, hands gesturing to emphasise your emotions.

"What? What photos y/n? I- I don't know what youre talking about?"

your heart skips a beat

The truth is, Drew hadn't looked on twitter, Drew hadn't seen the photos of you, or him, or her. He always kept his phone on do not disturb between the night and early morning. And when the realisation hits...you can't help but snap.

A small chuckle slips through your lips. "are you fucking kidding me drew?"` you spit " you really was going to come here, apologies and not be truthful about what happened last night, do you think im fucking stupid? look at your fucking phone!?" 

But before Drew can get out his phone to check what youre talking about, you get out your own, shoving the image of him and another girl into his face. "this?" you state through gritted teeth.

Drews expression changes, his brows drop. 

"anything to say? maybe the reason youve been such a dick is because youre fucking your co star huh?" 

but before you could ask him once more, you notice his attention isn’t on you, but is drawn towards the floor

As you look down towards your bare legs, you notice drops of blood beginning to fall from in between, first slowly…then all at once.

cramping begins in your lower abdomen, however, it doesn't feel familiar, it feels uneasy…you begin to panic, facing drew with your hand now clamped over your mouth… 

“what the fuck y/n, we- we have to get you to a hospital…”

a/n: pt3??????

@winterrrnight @loves0phelia @f4ll-for-you @leyla-1905 @dilvcv @abarleyexistentbeing @tringeorge @emmsyysstuff @missamericanablog @deadxrx @clearpoetryobservation-blog @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @emotionsmgcbabe @aliciacat20

[suzukiblu]

Parasite WIP is so good and I desperately want more of it! I voted for it in the poll and I’m so sad it didn’t win

Friend, I appreciate you asking after it because it really is one of my fucked-up faves that I really need to work on more, so uh . . . have all 4500 words of the prose so far all together, hahaha. Yes, yes I DID reformat this whole thing into Tumblr-friendliness all for you. THAT IS HOW MUCH I APPRECIATE YOUR APPRECIATION, FRIEND. ( so definitely we are gonna need that read-more down there, lol. )

Clark wakes up. 

Clark didn't even know he wasn't awake. 

"Superman," Bruce says with absolute neutrality. He's wearing the cowl. Standing in rubble. Clark is . . . not standing in rubble. 

Laying in rubble. That's what Clark is doing. 

Bruce is looking down at him very, very carefully, and seems . . . reserved. 

Reserved for Bruce, even. 

"What happened?" Clark asks, trying not to concentrate on the little seed of dread that the sight of that reservation invokes in him. He can hear the heartbeats of other League members, here and there in the wreckage of the street around them. Hear civilians and city noise. Hear Lois and Jon, distantly, and Ma and Pa, even more distant. And . . . Kara–both of her–and . . . 

"We'll go with 'electrocution', but I think we can safely say just about anyone else would've been virtually incinerated," Bruce informs him, distracting Clark from his mental rundown of people he's currently worried about. "Or just exploded."

"Ah," Clark says with a grimace. Well, that explains why his head hurts so damn bad, he guesses.

At least it was him, then, and not any "anyone else"s. 

He pushes himself up. Looks around. He . . . isn't sure where they are, exactly, except that it's probably somewhere on Earth and within the continental United States, judging by the architecture and signs he's seeing and the accents and languages he's hearing. 

He has absolutely no idea how they got here, though. The last thing he remembers is . . . 

. . . he's not actually sure what the last thing he remembers is. 

Not a great sign, that.  

Bruce is watching him. Like he's . . . expecting something, almost. Clark would ask, but there's an odd feeling distracting him. Something's . . . off, somehow. 

Missing. 

Bruce's utility belt is a new design, he notes absently. J'onn is down the street a bit and his costume looks a little different too. And Diana . . . 

Diana is over across the way, and her hair is a couple inches longer than he remembers it being. 

Clark would assume he was mistaken, except for the eidetic memory and all. 

"Hm," Clark says. 

"Hm?" Bruce says. He still sounds faultlessly neutral. 

"Trying to figure out if I'm in the right reality. Things look a little off," Clark replies, tilting his head and narrowing his eyes in concentration. No unexpected sounds or scents. No particular feeling of disorientation that can't be accounted for by being apparently electrocuted. No additional pains past the dull pressure in his head or any immediately obvious peculiarities beyond the minor little scattered differences here and there in his teammates. 

But something is–

"I can't hear Kon," Clark realizes abruptly. He doesn't usually especially keep an ear out for the kid, at least not deliberately, but . . . 

Bruce . . . pauses. 

"You can't," he says, very carefully. It doesn't sound like a question. 

It sounds like something, though. 

"I can't," Clark confirms anyway, glancing around again. He still doesn't know where this is. "Where are we, exactly?" 

"What's the date, Kal?" Bruce asks, and Clark's heart sinks. 

He answers the question. 

Bruce's mouth thins. 

Hell, Clark thinks. 

"We're currently in Keystone City," Bruce says, very carefully expressionless. "We've been here for three days. The date you just provided me was a full fourteen months ago. And Kon-El has been MIA for roughly thirteen and a half of those months." 

Hell, Clark thinks, and doesn't let himself process anything past that. 

"We need to get a scan of your brain," Bruce says. "For starters." 

"For starters," Clark agrees tightly. 

Bruce tells Diana they're leaving, then abandons the rubble and takes Clark up to the Watchtower. Clark goes. He doesn't ask what electrocuted him or who's died in the past fourteen months or if there's anything immediately urgent that he should know. Bruce would've already told him, if there was. 

And he thinks he'd choke on the question if he tried, anyway. 

They go to the med bay. There's a total stranger standing in it who smiles at them when they step through the door. 

"Haven't seen you in here in quite a while, Superman," the stranger observes in amusement, tapping a pen against the clipboard in their hands. "You still haven't been in for that checkup I owe you, you know." 

"He doesn't know you," Bruce informs them evenly. The stranger blinks. 

"Sorry?" they say. 

"He was electrocuted," Bruce says. "Now he thinks it's fourteen months ago. We need a brain scan. Immediately." 

"Hell," the stranger says, their eyes widening in alarm. 

Clark gets the brain scan. 

He and Bruce wait in a convenient exam room for the results, which seem to be taking a while. Bruce seems a bit more guarded than usual, which means Clark is standing next to goddamn Fort Knox right now. He sighs to himself. 

"Suppose at this rate I should call and tell Lois and Jon I'll be late for dinner," he jokes wryly as he folds his arms, no real humor in the comment, and Bruce goes very, very still beside him. 

. . . hell. 

They're not dead. He knows they're not dead, he heard their heartbeats before they left for the watchtower, Bruce would've already told him if either of them were–

"They aren't expecting you," Bruce says with absolutely no intonation whatsoever in his voice. "You moved out eight months ago. The divorce is already finalized." 

"Ah," Clark says, very slowly. He doesn't let himself process, again. Not–just, not yet. "What happened?" 

"You left them," Bruce says, and Clark . . . blinks. 

"I left them?!" he demands incredulously. Leaving Lois is one thing, horrible and impossible a thought as it is, but– "Not just–I left them both?!"

"As you explained it to me, you were no longer interested in maintaining the . . . 'persona' of Clark Kent," Bruce replies carefully, looking just past him. "You said you couldn't stand the screaming anymore. That you appreciated us . . . humoring you for so long, but you couldn't just keep walking around making excuses and lying to everyone while people were suffering and dying just because you had to pretend to be human for a while. So yes. You left them. Haven't visited since Lois finally signed the divorce papers. Haven't spoken to your parents either. You've been . . . erratic. Since Kon-El's disappearance. When we couldn't find him . . . when we couldn't even find out what happened to him . . ." 

"Oh," Clark says, and his heart sinks again. 

He doesn't understand, though. Kon is–he cares about the kid, obviously. Cares very deeply about him. He's pretty sure he even loves him, at this point. But he's not . . . 

It feels terrible to think it, but Clark doesn't understand why Kon disappearing like that would affect him enough to stop being Clark. It's awful, and he still hasn't let himself actually think about it happening at all because he really can't process it right now, but that awful? Really? Awful enough to abandon being any semblance of a normal person? Abandon Lois and his parents entirely? 

Abandon Jon entirely? 

Apparently, yes. 

"Technically you're on unpaid sabbatical from the Planet," Bruce tells him. "We thought you might . . . reconsider, once you'd grieved properly, so Lois pulled some strings with Perry White. He thinks you're having an early mid-life crisis and your co-workers think you're off finding yourself in South America with a bad cell phone plan." 

"I guess I don't believe in satellite phones?" Clark says, trying for wry again. It doesn't work, but he tries all the same. 

"This is unfair of me, but I'm going to take advantage of your current mental state," Bruce says. He's looking at the wall, though there's nothing there to actually be looking at. Not even anything on the other side, at least not according to X-ray vision. "Try to remember how you feel right now, when your memories of the past year return. Try to remember who you are right now, when those memories return."

"Why?" Clark asks, watching him carefully as he does. The corners of Bruce's mouth tighten. Just barely, but undeniably. 

"You've been . . . gone, Clark," Bruce says slowly. "You won't even answer to 'Clark' anymore. You aren't the same man that I . . . that we all . . ." 

The stranger comes back before Bruce has to admit to too many personal feelings or Clark can figure out what to say to any of that, which might be a mercy but might also be–

The stranger looks . . . strange, Clark notices. Nauseated, almost. And definitely distressed. 

"I haven't done brain scans on Superman before," they say, their grip on their clipboard concerningly close to white-knuckled. "And my predecessor apparently hadn't done any in a while either. Last ones in the system are over two years old." 

"What's wrong?" Bruce says, narrowing his eyes. Honestly at this point Clark figures a kryptonite brain tumor would really just be the icing on the cake, and frankly would probably explain some of his apparent behavioral changes and current memory loss. That genuinely makes more sense than anything else, really, even with grief and guilt to contend with.

More sense than abandoning his own damn kid does, at least. 

Although a tumor's the worst-case scenario, obviously. And it can't be any worse than that, really, or any worse than anything he's apparently done to his family this past year, so at least he's braced for–

"There's an . . . organism," the stranger says, swallowing uncomfortably. "In your brain." 

"What?" Clark says. 

"A dead organism, now," the stranger clarifies. "But it looks like it's been there for a while. There are . . . roots. And . . . lesions, too." 

"An organism," Bruce repeats very, very slowly. "In Superman's brain." 

"Yes," the stranger says. 

"I don't . . ." Clark trails off. 

"We need more scans," Bruce says. 

"I ran it four times on two different machines," the stranger says. "It's organic. It's not giving off any recognizable life signs. It seems like it might've been . . . you mentioned electrocution, before?" 

"You think the electricity killed it," Bruce realizes. "And then Superman forgot fourteen months?" 

"I'm not sure Superman ever experienced those fourteen months to begin with," the stranger says tightly, gripping their clipboard even harder. 

Clark was in no way whatsoever braced for this. 

"Fuck," Bruce says. 

More scans happen after all. A lot more scans, a lot of specialists, and a lot of arguing. Everything's a bit of a blur, in a sense. Clark absorbs very little of it, and mostly leaves things to Bruce unless he's asked a direct question about his medical history. His judgment might be compromised right now, after all, whether the . . . organism is dead or not. 

The emergency OR gets prepped. The red sun lamps get set up inside it. 

"Should we contact Lois?" Bruce asks as Clark's shrugging into an ill-fitting hospital gown and preparing himself to possibly die in pursuit of getting a dead who-knows-what out of his brain before it can start to rot there and potentially kill him that way. "Or your parents?" 

"No," Clark says. "Just get this damn thing out of my head." 

If he doesn't survive the removal process . . . 

They don't know what's been going on. What he let happen to himself, somehow.

He isn't going to tell them he's back just to immediately take himself away again. 

He records something for Jon, just in case. It's not enough, but it's–something, he tells himself. It's something. 

It's all he can bring himself to do. 

He leaves the disk with the recording on it with Bruce and asks him to have Dick deliver it, if it's necessary. 

Things proceed from there, and Clark wakes up again a week later in a private room in the med bay, connected to half a dozen machines and needles and tubes and directly facing the sun. Diana is dozing in the chair next to his bed. Bruce is pacing at the foot of it. They're both in costume. Clark feels weak and groggy, but he can hear half a dozen other heartbeats lingering in the hall, so presumably they were expecting him to wake up around now. 

"Mm," he says. Diana snaps awake. Bruce stops mid-step. 

They both look at him. 

"The operation was a success," Bruce informs him. "Textbook. Or as textbook as removing a mind-controlling parasite of unknown origins from a Kryptonian brain can get for mostly-human surgeons, anyway." 

"Do you need anything?" Diana asks. "Would you like us to call your family yet?" 

Clark shakes his head, then closes his eyes and sleeps for another week. 

"Sleep", he supposes, counts as something that he needs right now. 

The next time he wakes up, he's alone in his room and disconnected from the machines and just feels . . . normal, really. Like nothing was ever wrong at all and he didn't just have major surgery that was, essentially, the equivalent of multiple traumatic brain injuries. His hair is already starting to grow back from where it was buzzed down for the surgery, and there's not even any bandages on his head. 

There's no noticeable scarring, Clark observes when he makes it to the little ensuite bathroom to take a look in the mirror. The surgeons told him there probably wouldn't be, given both the methods they'd been intending to use and the nature of his own physiology, but seeing the total lack of proof of what happened to him is just . . . strange, somehow. 

It feels almost like a cheat. Like it should be obvious, in some way. 

There was a parasite in his head. Something controlling him. Pretending to be him. Passing for him. It could've done anything it wanted. 

It did do things that Clark still has no idea about. 

So many things. 

He couldn't even fight it. Wasn't conscious or aware enough to, or just not strong enough to, or just . . . 

He couldn't even fight it. 

And he doesn't know what it did. 

The door opens. Diana walks in. 

"Would you like us to call your family now?" she asks. 

"Yes," Clark says roughly, curling his fingers around the sides of the sink in front of him. "Please." 

"Of course," Diana says with a terrible and merciless gentleness. 

Clark sits down on the lid of the toilet and just . . . cries. Just for a minute. 

Or twenty. 

Diana kneels in front of him and holds his hands in her own. 

Fourteen months, Clark thinks, all twisted up with grief and pain and so, so much regret. He missed so much. He wasn't there for Jon or Lois or his parents. He wasn't there for Bruce or Diana or the League, for either of Kara, for . . . 

For Kon. He wasn't there for Kon. 

Wasn't there for Kon when the kid needed him. 

Kon completely vanished, and who knows if the damn parasite even pretended to help look for him? If it did anything at all for him? Who knows if Clark could've found him, could've saved him, if he'd still been himself at the time? 

. . . who knows if the parasite isn't what made Kon disappear to begin with? 

It took fourteen months of Clark's life, and Kon . . . Kon disappeared two weeks into those fourteen months. 

If nothing else, the timing is a screaming red flag. 

Clark abandoned his son and might've murdered a kid who only ever looked up to him, a kid who he was never really able to fully understand but literally named, and he can't do anything to bring Kon back or to make up for the year that he wasn't there for the rest of his family. 

Their family. 

God, what has he done? What has Clark done, and did Kon die feeling afraid or shocked or terrified? Did he die feeling betrayed? Did he think it was Clark doing it, however it happened? 

Did he die thinking Clark wanted him to die? 

Clark doesn't even know what happened to his body. 

There won't be another resurrection.  

Clark chokes. Diana squeezes his hands. He grips hers like a lifeline and shudders through it. The grief is a terrible, ugly thing. It's one of the worst things Clark's ever felt. 

The guilt is worse. 

"Lois," he murmurs finally, feeling like the weakest man alive. "Could you call . . . Lois, please, and just . . . ask if she'll come. I'll explain it all to her, just–could you call her, please." 

"Yes," Diana says, squeezing his hands again. "Of course." 

"Thank you," Clark says. 

He pulls himself together, more or less, and Diana goes to make the call. She comes back a few minutes later and tells him Lois agreed, but needs to find a babysitter first. Clark in no way blames her for not bringing Jon along and frankly is surprised she's willing to come at all. 

He's not sure what he could even say to Jon right now. 

What can he? 

Diana makes sure he eats something, then leaves for monitor duty. Clark tries not to overthink things. Tries not to think too much at all. 

He spent fourteen months not thinking at all, though, all of it lost in one oblivious blink, so that doesn't work out all that well for him. 

An hour later, he hears the Zeta platform activate on the opposite side of the base, and hears Lois's heartbeat appear inside the watchtower. 

Clark exhales, very slowly. 

He waits. 

Lois comes to the med bay. She doesn't stop to talk to anyone on the way. Doesn't talk to anyone except that stranger Clark still doesn't actually know the name of, who tells her where to find him. 

And then a minute or a millennium later she's standing in the open doorway of his room, and Clark is looking at her. Her expression is neutral, and her hair is shorter than it was the last time he remembers seeing her–the last time he was the one actually seeing her. An inverse bob, not shoulder-length anymore. He recognizes the blazer and heels that she's wearing, but not the blouse or the pants. Not the earrings or the necklace, either. 

And there's no wedding ring to recognize either way. 

Clark wonders what happened to his. 

God, but she's still the most amazing woman he's ever seen, and he's still never once deserved a single part of her. Not even a fraction of a part. 

Especially not now. 

"Kal," she greets, tone just as neutral as her expression, and Clark aches. 

"Clark," he says, just a little too abrupt, and Lois–pauses. 

"Clark," she amends casually as she tucks her hands into the pockets of her blazer, and if he didn't know her quite so well he wouldn't have even heard the crack in her voice around his name, super-hearing or not. "Never seen your hair this short. I kinda miss the curl, not gonna lie. It has charm, you know? Very boy scout next door." 

"I had emergency brain surgery," Clark says. Lois pauses again. Tilts her head. He keeps talking. "Two weeks ago, now. Just woke up again fully today." 

"What?" she says, just staring at him. "You–what happened?" 

"It's . . . unclear, still," Clark replies slowly. "But as far as we can tell, roughly fourteen months back an unidentified alien parasite moved into my brain and . . . took me over, essentially. I don't actually–I don't remember any of that time. At all. Then two weeks ago I got electrocuted in Keystone and the parasite died. The surgery was to remove its body so my brain could heal from the damage it did without it rotting in there." 

Lois keeps staring at him. 

"Fourteen months," she echoes very, very carefully. 

"I'm so sorry," Clark says tightly. "Bruce told me I left you. Left you and Jon. That I stopped being . . . myself. I can't imagine how difficult that was, or how it must've felt." 

"I can't imagine how waking up and hearing that none of us even noticed you were gone felt," Lois says. 

"You never do pull a punch, do you," Clark says with a weak attempt at a smile. 

"I'm sorry," Lois says evenly. "I should've known." 

"No one did," Clark says, then . . . hesitates. "Or . . . we think no one did." 

"You think that's what happened to Kon," Lois says, because of course she's already done the math, and of course she's already had the thought herself. Obviously she would've. 

"The timing is . . . likely, at least," Clark says. "And really, if anyone was going to see my face and notice that a different person was wearing it . . ."

"You have a point," Lois murmurs. She steps into the room. Clark wants to hold her. He also wants to bury himself in the coldest, darkest place that he can find and never, ever let himself see the sun again. 

He doesn't deserve it anymore. 

"I'm so angry that I want to cry," Lois says, her voice very distant and her eyes locked on his. Clark can see her hands fisting in her pockets. "I'm so . . . god. I should've known. You never would've left Jon. Not like that." 

"Bruce made it sound like the parasite was . . . very convincing," Clark says. It convinced Bruce, who may just be the most paranoid mind on the planet, so . . .

"It was," Lois agrees, still without taking her eyes off his. "But I still should've known." 

Clark blinks a little too quickly. Lois tightens her jaw. Takes her hands out of her pockets and leaves them at her sides instead. Clark never thought he'd see them without her wedding ring again. 

"It's been–months, I know," he says, hating himself for thinking he even deserves to say this. "For you. But I still . . ." 

"I love you," Lois says. "Come home." 

There is no possible world in which he could tell her "no". 

Med bay makes him wait for another two hours of observation and runs some scans, but then they let him go. Lois waits with him the whole time. She doesn't call anyone or send any texts. Doesn't leave the room. Barely says a word. Hardly even takes her eyes off him, like she thinks if she blinks he's going to disappear. 

Clark can hardly keep her heartbeat out of his ears, so he doesn't blame her. 

He doesn't blame her at all. 

They go to Smallville. Bruce had said he'd send Dick to pick up Jon from the babysitter's and get him to the farm, and as much as Clark had wanted to go straight to him himself . . . 

Ma and Pa first, he reminds himself. This is going to be upsetting for Jon–most likely traumatic, once it all sinks in. And definitely disorienting. It'll be best if as many of the adults in his life as possible know what's going on in advance, so he can go to whoever he needs to go to; get whatever comfort they can prepare themselves to offer. 

Clark doesn't know how to do this. 

He doesn't . . . 

They don't take two steps onto the farm before a familiar blur is crashing into him head-on. 

"Oh," Clark manages, and Krypto barks excitedly and flies up to lick his face, tail wagging wildly as he jumps all over him. Like he's missed him. Like he's been waiting for him. 

Clark nearly cries again.

"Good boy, Krypto," he tells him, quiet and rough. "I missed you too, boy." 

He scratches Krypto's ears. Strokes his back. Krypto nearly bowls him over in delight. 

Clark buries his face in his neck and cries a bit after all. 

Lois watches. 

Waits. 

Clark spends . . . maybe a little bit too long crying on his dog, and then they all head up to the house. Ma and Pa are both standing on the porch; presumably they heard Krypto barking. They both look a little bit startled and a little bit confused and a lot more pained at the sight of him, and Clark swallows painfully and stops just before the porch steps. 

He looks at them, and he loves them so desperately. Everything they ever did for him, and everything they've ever been to him, and . . . 

"I'm sorry," he says. "I just . . . there was . . ."

God, the way this hurts. 

"It was mind control," he says. "The past fourteen months or so. I was . . . I wasn't. Wasn't here. Or . . . anywhere." 

"Oh," Ma says, and her eyes are instantly wet with tears. Pa blinks very quickly, his hand curling against the porch railing. 

"I'm so, so sorry," Clark repeats tightly, his own hands in useless fists. "But I'm–back now. I'm home." 

"Oh, Clark," Ma chokes, and then they both throw themselves at him. Clark's been hugged by people with strength far past superhuman, but it's never felt . . . 

No. It's never once felt the same way as when his parents do it. 

They cling to him. He clings back. Krypto barks again and swoops around the knot of them, wagging his tail hard enough to nearly knock Lois over with the force of wind it stirs up. Definitely some of the porch furniture gets displaced. 

Clark feels so much. 

They sit together on the porch, Krypto sprawled contentedly across Clark's lap and Lois on the steps beside him. Clark gives Ma and Pa what explanation he can–tells them everything he knows about Keystone and the electrocution and the watchtower and the surgery and waking up. They watch him just as intently as Lois does the entire time. 

He doesn't . . . he doesn't mention his suspicions about what might've happened to Kon. Not . . . not yet. 

He doesn't know how to. Not to Ma and Pa. Not after he brought the kid here and left him on their doorstep with no real direction and . . . 

Just–he'll tell them. He'll tell them soon. 

Just . . . not yet. 

It's not a very long talk, in the end. Ma and Pa take in everything he says and just take it all in stride, just like they always have. Baby in a spaceship? Kid with superpowers? Son who thinks he can save the whole damn world? 

Of course they take it in stride. 

Clark loves them too much to even define. Too much to even wrap his own head around. They're the best people he knows. The best people he's ever known. 

They don't even think there's anything for him to be sorry for. 

It's . . . painful, a little, when Clark realizes that. 

Or a lot. 

So, so damn painful. 

Clark hears the definitely-not-a-Batmobile coming, far down the road. Three heartbeats inside it. Dick, Damian, and . . . 

Jon. 

Obviously. 

Clark strokes Krypto's ears one last time, then gets up. No one asks him why, but he supposes the look on his face must be answer enough right now. 

He steps off the porch and goes to wait by the driveway. 

It's not that long a wait, but it feels like the better part of eternity.

[whiskey-tango-matcha]

Chatterbox (M, cold, 'drabble')

A little prompt-based fluff for you guys :) Reed and Greyson go out to dinner, but Reed realizes something is up when Greyson won't shut tf up lol. I'm loving writing this relationship, I can't lie, so sorry if it's too much Reed and Greyson lately - I'll get back to my other guys soon!

1.6K words (just a tiny lil blip of a story haha) CW: Male snz, coughing, fever, contagion mention. Hope you like it :)

Chatterbox

Reed looked down at his phone as he waited on Greyson, rereading the stream-of-consciousness texts his boyfriend had sent throughout the day.

Greyson

1:42PM

sooo pumped for tonight bb :)

1:56PM

should I wear a suit…? I know it’s a new spot but the website definitely reads ‘fine dining’, like fine-er than most of my clothes know how to be...

2:24PM

I think I’ll do dark jeans & a black button up. johnny cash style. cant go wrong w that. hahah.

3:17PM

I know ur working still but im just really excited to see you:):)

It was cute – borderline adorable – how nervous Greyson seemed for their dates, even after almost a year of the two of them being together. Reed had, of course, answered Greyson’s plethora texts throughout the day, but had tried to keep himself subdued so he wouldn’t give away his hand; tonight, he was going to ask Greyson to move in with him.

He knew it was a bit of a long time coming, but Reed was really trying to keep from scaring Greyson off by doing anything too quickly. His boyfriend certainly had a bit of past-relationship trauma that Reed tried valiantly to navigate; it was hard to figure out what the right time to do anything was. Sometimes, he wasn’t sure there was ever going to be a right time to push their relationship to the next level. But things had been good lately; like, really good. Tonight felt… right.

Greyson’s presence was palpable before Reed even saw him blow through the door. He looked up from his phone and clocked his boyfriend, standing out side the restaurant with his elbow locked over his face; Reed cocked his head a bit, confused. Was he… coughing?

The chef, clad in the Johnny-Cash-getup he’d promised, shook himself out before pushing the door to the restaurant open. He pawed at his nose with the back of his hand while asking the hostess to point Reed out – she gestured towards their table, and Greyson smiled when the two of them locked eyes. Reed waved, smiling back. Something was certainly… off.

“Sorry I’m late, baby,” Greyson said, kissing the top of Reed’s head before sitting across from him. “The fuckin’ train was running late again.”

“I’ve told you a million times I’ll come pick you up for dates,” Reed said, squeezing Greyson’s hand across the table. “You don’t always have to take the train.”

Greyson shrugged, smiled a little loopily. “I like the train,” he said, picking up his menu and squinting at the small font. “Lots of time to think. I’ve come up with my best dishes on the subway, I’m pretty sure; you remember that tart I made for the writer’s dinner, the one where we saw each other for the second time? Came up with that on the train. I was sitting next to this girl, probably a student, and she was eating one of those little egg tarts, the ones from the Japanese bakeries? I thought, damn I bet a root vegetable in one of those would fuckin’ slay – spoiler alert, it so did. Where would I have come up with that if not for the train? Plus, it’s one of the most sustainable ways to travel. I get my good karma for not actively killing the environment in. Win-win. What’re we eat – HTSHH! NXTSHH!” Greyson’s explosion of word vomit was very suddenly cut off to stifle two painful-sounding sneezes into the back of his hand.

Reed blinked for what was maybe the first time since his boyfriend sat down. “...bless,” he said after a beat. Greyson nodded, sniffled a little, and picked the menu back up.

“What’s this place’s thing anyway?” Greyson continued, flipping the menu over to look at drinks. “I can’t seem to figure it out; are they Italian? Mediterranean? Fine dining? Just high-end? No tasting menu, but prices are high enough to warrant one. Wine list reads very Italian, but there are like three dishes with hummus on them? I’m half-expecting to be served babaganoush bolognese. Which… maybe would work? Actually, eggplant, tomato sauce… I could see it working. You never know. Can’t judge a book by its menu, right? What’re you drinking? Want to get a bot -?”

This second monologue was cut short when Reed reached across the table to place a gentle hand on Greyson’s face. Just as he expected: hot.

“Babe,” Reed said gently, taking his hand back, “you’re burning up.”

The chef cast his glance down, embarrassed. “You weren’t supposed to figure that out till after dinner,” he muttered. Reed laughed.

“Seriously? You had to know I’d figure something was up. You’ve been monologing since the moment you sat down. Have you been sick all day? You should’ve told me, honey. How much cough medicine did you take before you showed up here?”

Greyson looked up at Reed and gave him a little half-smile. “Pretty sure I downed half a bottle of Robutusssin, not gonna liiii – hh! HhNXTSHH-ue! Huh-TSHH-ue!” Once again, Greyson attempted to stifle, to no avail. He allowed himself two painful little coughs before righting himself again.

“Bless you,” Reed said again. “I wish you would just sneeze normal, that always sounds so painful.”

“We’re in a restaurant,” Greyson said, a huskiness beginning to creep in to his voice. “That’s so gross.”

Reed rolled his eyes. “Oh, please. Who cares? No one’s looking at us. They’re too busy with their many, many hummuses.”

A laugh bubbled out of Greyson, and with it came a flurry of congested coughs he directed into the sleeve of his shirt. “Don’t mbake me laugh,” he muttered, taking a drink of water. “You’re gonna get us kicked out.”

“Good,” Reed said, flagging the waiter. “I’m so sorry,” he said when the young, well-dressed server came to their table, “something’s come up and we’re going to have to go.” He handed the kid a fifty. “Thank you for your help.”

The server nodded, said thank you to Reed, and went to grab the two men’s jackets. Greyson raised an eyebrow, confused. “What’re you doing?”

“Taking you home,” Reed said. “You need tea and soup, not…” he glanced back down at the menu, “fattoush flatbread.” Greyson visibly deflated.

“I wanted to spend the evening with you,” he said, his voice subdued. “I’m sorry. I should’ve called and canceled, I just… I mbiss you when we don’t see each other all week. You’re always busy, I’mb always busy, it just fucking sucks. I don’t even know how I got fucking sick… oh wait, yes I do. Elijah had a cold last week – was that last week? Did I tell you that? I can’t remember. I think the servers gave it to him. Fuckin’ servers, I’ve never met a group of people who get sick mbore than theehh – huh! Fuck – HUHETSHHH-ue! Huh-! HhITSZZZCH-ue!” Greyson folded in half, his torso practically beneath the table in an attempt to keep the entire restaurant from hearing him. It was, of course, at that moment that the server returned with their coats. Reed took them silently, and stood to gather his boyfriend, who slowly unfurled himself from his own lap.

“Bless you,” he said, gently helping Greyson to his feet and slipping his coat over his shoulders. He lead the two of them past the host stand and onto the sidewalk, where he turned Greyson to face him.

“First of all,” he said, sweeping Greyson’s hair out of his eyes and caressing his cheek, “I know a subset of people who get sick more than servers, and it’s chefs. You and all your chef buddies are pestilence incarnate because you work nine hundred hours a week.” This prompted a little laugh from Greyson. Perfect, thought Reed. Break the tension.

“Secondly, yes, you did tell me that Elijah was sick, and I told you, and I quote, ‘Don’t get too close, I know you two love to share a cold’, but I know you don’t like to listen to authority, so not sure what I expected.” Another laugh. Greyson pushed his hair back, rubbed his nose, and pulled Reed in to hug him. Reed continued from this spot, pressed into Greyson’s shoulder.

“And thirdly,” he said, “I miss you too. All the time. Which is why I asked you out tonight.” He pulled away, reached into his pocket, and dropped a key into Greyson’s palm. “I don’t want to miss you anymore. I don’t want you to have to take the train from Brooklyn every single night, I don’t want us to hang out once a week, I don’t want to drop you at your apartment to take care of yourself. I want to see you when I wake up every morning. I want to hear you sneak in at three AM after you and Matt go clubbing. I want to take care of you, at home, when you’re sick.” Reed smiled, a little embarrassed, as Greyson stared at the key. “Move in with me,” Reed said. “Please.”

Greyson’s mouth opened, then shut without words a couple of times before he looked Reed in the eyes. “Yes,” he said, nodding. “Okay. Yes. Yes, please.”

Reed felt a smile bloom on his face, huge, goofy, unashamed. He took Greyson’s face in his hands and planted a kiss on his lips. Greyson held his boyfriend by the waist, then picked him up to spin him around. “I love you,” Greyson muttered into Reed’s mouth.

“I love you more,” Reed said, smiling. Greyson turned away then, suddenly to -

“HRRSHH-ue! HhhITSHZZCH-ue!” he sneezed away from his boyfriend, which prompted a laugh from Reed.

“Probably too late for that nicety,” Reed joked, elbowing Greyson playfully. The chef huffed out a laugh and rolled his eyes.

“I figured sneezing directly into your face would probably kill the moment,” he said, sniffling. “But I’ll go ahead and just do it next time.”

“Oh, shut up,” Reed laughed, kissing Greyson again. “C’mon. Let’s get you home and in bed. Sickie.”

Greyson smiled a little. “Yeah,” he said, looping his arm into Reed’s. “Let’s go home.”

[sinning-23]

Piercings Pt.2 (Sanji x Reader)

First of all… THANKS SO MUCH FOR THE LOVE N SUPPORT ON THE LAST ONE! Nice to know we all love some Sanji lol.

Also if you want a pinch of context I suggest reading Pt.1 UHHHHH but if not enjoy this lol smut is one of my fs or things to write so uhhhh yeah! I hope I did good lol!

⚠️!THIS IS AN 18+ FIC MINORS BE TF GONE!⚠️

❗️Warnings❗️: Sanji being smug, choking, biting, cunnilingus, unprotected, p in v, fingering, multiple orgasms, overstim, sanji speakin that french

Pt. 1 here

Enjoy!

After the kitchen fiasco, you opted to keep yourself out of there until further notice. The wall ended up being scorched as well as some of the utensils he used. All the windows needed to be opened to clear the smoke out and it didn't help that the smell of charred food lingered for a while.

It has been about 4 days since then and every day you can't seem to keep your hands off each other. He's got his hands on your hips, claiming he just needed to get by with a quiet, "Pardon me, dove." His lips always dangerously close to your ear.

You were no better though, also claiming that you'd dropped something and needed to use his thighs for support when getting up, looking up at him under pretty lashes. This tension was that of a frozen lake, one misstep and you'd fall into him, hoping he embraces you like that of icy water.

Speaking of which, the burn you endured ended up being minor and the cold water did most of the trick. He insisted on bandaging you still. Just an excuse to touch you more.

Touch.

All you two ever did now was touch

And tease, and poke, and prod, in hopes of the other finally cracking and putting all that tension to good use. When you had docked at a smaller island in hopes of finding a marketplace (you did) Sanji didn't even ask if you'd join him.

He just took your hand in his, because it wasn't even a question at this point. You're with him unless you stated you wanted otherwise.

Walking past the vendors, his hand stays at your hip, more possessive than anything. You poin tout something you like? It's yours. See something you want to try? It's yours.

These days you're growing more and more concerned for his wallet. Anytime you'd try to decline he's simple shake his head, draw your hand to his lips, and kiss your knuckles.

"Anything for you, chérie"

The crew could sense this.....energy loomin' over the two of you but of course nothing was really said...that is until Nami nudged her head in the direction of Sanji when you two happened to be on the main deck this afternoon. You quirk a brow as she leans in to try and keep the gossip between the two of you.

"What really happened for the kitchen to catch fire? I mean?" She questions with a smirk, making you laugh, nervousness laced in the tone.

When you two first told the story, Sanji said he had distracted himself and took too long preparing other parts of the mean and he lost track of what he was doing and how long.

You, on the other hand, said that you accidentally bumped the stoved handles making the flames higher, and maybe a towel or something caught fire.

It was all bullshit.

When Sanji had taken it upon himself to plant kisses down your neck, he left something quite noticeable that wasn't there before. It was all bullshit and everyone knew it. You distracted him, and he just couldn't help himself.

"I-I told you what happened Nami. It doesn't matter anyway! The kitchen is back to normal thankfully." You sigh, trying to figure out what exactly you came out here to do?

Oh, that's right.

Find some way to get your hands on Sanji.

"If you say so, but,” Nami shrugs, pausing when she see's Sanji follow to the back of the ship, his eyes focused on you, pupils blown wide. He falters but only for a moment, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. Then he leaves, your breath stuck in your throat.

"I think someone's waiting for you to follow them so..." Nami observes, palm coming to hold your shoulder.

"Don't set anything else on fire." She teases, seeing you full on sprint to where he was.

You look around, the hall empty. He just went this way didn't he-

You're snatched up, mouth covered in the quiet of the hallway, a hand firm on your hip. Before you can even process your attacker, a set of lips is hungry against your own, a hand at your throat. You can hardly breathe from the shock, both teeth and tongues against one another as you embrace.

Sanji’s got you close against him, his back against the wall with your chest to his, one leg keeping your thighs apart as you lean into him. He still has one hand around your throat, squeezing just enough to make you whine, wanting more pressure.

The height difference makes you lean upward, itching to have all of him. Despite the hall being quiet, your little secluded corner is awfully loud with the sounds of your labored breaths combined.

"Sanji...Sanji wait-" You speak between kisses, his hands under your shirt now, immediately massaging the area over and around your back dermals.

"Ne parle plus, je veux juste te goûter. "

That shut you up, quick, the sound of his mother tongue slipping past his lips when he can't seem to keep his hands from wandering.

"What if we get caught." You gasp, feeling him bite down particularly rough on your collarbone.

"Y/n, know that right now, I don't particularly give a fuck. I need you." He huffs, still tasting every in inch of exposed skin he could find.

His lips are soft, brushing over your neck with a smirk. He knows the mess he left over your skin, bark bruises, and indents of where his teeth had been adorning it.

"They know the whole kitchen thing was bs." He chuckles darkly, his next sentence sinking straight to your cunt.

"I'm sure they're well aware of who you belong to now. I made your neck even more of a work of art honey."

You're practically soaking through your panties now, and are in dire need of friction. In an attempt to secretly get off, you grid down against his thigh...

But hes quck to notice.

"Oh, that's why you’re worried. Let's go." He exhales with a smirk, pulling you to his room and swiftly closing the door behind him.

It's not messy by any means, the bed is made neatly with a pack of cigarettes on the nightstand. You would’ve loved to look around more but Sanji is back on you and there was no way in hell you’d complain about that. He’s quick but calculated, sliding his hands under your shirt before pulling it off completely.

There's no time to be flustered, you'd both wanted this for quite some time now and you could both keep up with one another. Your skin prickles with he sudden chill of being topless, your nipples hardening slightly. It's just enough for him to see what else you were hiding.

Beneath your bra, were of course your nipples, but there they were, pierced, the bars through them being decorated with jade at each end. His breath hitches and god had he gotten impossibly harder at the sight. You're sitting on the edge of the bed now, Sanji kneeling before you with pupils blown wide.

All the permissions needed was the slight smirk on your lips and your back arching as if to invite him to touch and taste as much as he pleased. Without hesitation, he's got one in his mouth, tongue swirling around your already sensitive bud. The other he squeezes, thumb brushing over the area.

You can't help but sigh in pleasure, tangling your fingers in his hair while he makes it his mission to kiss all of your torso, noting the matching belly button ring. How did he not see this before? Well, most of your shirts were loose anyway. God he loved how adorned your body was with jewelry, like you were some kind of treasure just for him.

He can tell you're growing impatient with the way you push your hips forward, most likely trying to the feeling to relieve a little pressure with the way your pants pressed against you there.

"Let me taste you, please."He aks, breathless, lips still somewhat swollen from kissing prior.

You nod unable to speak with how damn pretty he looked. On his knees, eyes glossy and lustful, asking for permission to eat you out?! How could you say no? You lift your hips, sliding the jeans down just enough for him to pull the rest down.

You were right, your panties were damn near soaked, your arousal wetting the front. Sanji only moans at this, knowing it's all his doing. The feeling of him pressing kisses to your clothed clit makes you shiver, and he doesn't stop, tongue wetting the area as if to tease.

"Please Sanji, I need-" You pause for a moment, a bit embarrassed to ask for this. He only chuckles and runs his finger up your still-clothed folds, then massages the plush of your thighs.

"What do you need honey, tell me and I promise you I'll make it happen." Hes eager, kissing, sucking and biting at your inner thigh now, the feeling making you dizzy with desire.

"I need your mouth on me...please." You whine, trying to close your legs to relieve some of the pressure but he only spreads them apart again, strong hands keeping you there with a dangerous look in his eye.

"You'll take what I give you. Now be a big girl, ask for it, and stop chasing it, sweetheart." He thinks to himself "My mouth is on you. See?" He demonstrates, kissing your thighs again, one had on your hip, massaging circles there while the other tossed your leg over his shoulder, the action only spreading you wider.

Little shit. He knew exactly that you meant.

"No, you know what I mean. Please. Eat me, Sanji." You plead, feeling him smirk against your front.

He's got your panties off in no time. Almost immediately latching to you as he slurps you up, tossing your other leg over his shoulder now too. Your thighs act as a pair of headphones essentially, your fingers tugging at the blonde locks as he moans in response.

You can feel it now, your orgasm coming faster than you thought with how well he was eating you up. Like a starved man and his first meal in ages. He lapped at your juices, taking a chance at sliding not one, but two fingers into you.

"F-uck!" you stutter, feeling him curl upwards, still sucking at your clit.

He knows you're close, but he doesn't care, keeping that same pace to work this out of you. You can feel that damned piercing, rolling slowwwwly around your clip. Another cues slips past your lips. "Ohh, such a dirty mouth honey? Are you gonna cum for me? Can't even control yourself." He teases, watching you grip the bedsheets as your stomach muscles clench.

There it is.

Somehow his lips are back on yours, swallowing up the moans from your orgasm as his fingers slow in pace, trying to get you to come down from that high. Multitasking came easy to him, so for him to keep fucking you, now 3 fingers in while also using his free hand to push his own pants down was no hard feat.

How many times did he practice that??? Your hands are gripping his shoulders, nails digging into him in surprise when you feel the tip slide against your slick folds.

For a moment your eyes meet and damn do you have a chance to really, really look at him.

His face is dusted pink, eyes bright red. His eyes are glossy, pupils wide, lips shiny and slightly parted as he tries to catch his breath. He's no different than you now, admiring how you look, how you breathe, the way you cling to him like he'd vanish somehow.

It's intoxicating.

Your lips meet, softer this time, your heart beating like crazy with your stomach twisting in delight, full of butterflies. You're soft, and so is he, so much more gentle now in realization of what's about to occur. This means more to you now. It’s not a one time thing. You have no time to overthink because his voice, husky and passionate.

"Are you okay with this? Do I have permission?"He asks, pitch almost a bit higher, likes he’s holding back a whine.

Such a gentleman through it all. It makes your heart swell. You nod, whispering out an awestruck 'yes' before connecting your lips again. And the stretch when he slides in makes you both shiver, his hips stuttering into a pace, both his groans and your heavy breaths filling the space.

Impulsively wrapping your legs around his waist makes him thrust deeper. The feeling makes you arch, a louder moan slipping past your lips and it makes him chuckle a bit before succumbing to his own pleasure with a moan.

"Tu te sens si bien ma chérie" He whispers, your foreheads pressed together more intimately.

"Fuck, you fill me up so well." You whimper, slightly tugging the hair at the nape of his neck.

The action makes him moan back, teeth gritted as he thrust into you faster, his free hand coming to circle your clit. It's almost too much, another orgasm close behind. You'd never felt so full, his dick hitting parts of you that didn't know about. Perfect, like he was meant for your cunt. Your walls flutter around him and his thrusts begin to get sloppy.

"Oh gods, y/n I can't. Please let me fill you up chérie. Please-" He's pussy drunk, but you can say the same about yourself when he keeps hitting that spot. You're both bound to burst.

"Cum for me Sanji, please baby I need you to." You purr, bitting his shoulder, kissing the area to soothe it.

He's got his face in the crook of your neck now, a strangled moan leaving his lips as his thrusts slow. He doesn't stop though, still trying to work one last orgasm out of you and succeeds.

Your body is already spent from when he ate you out but this, definitely put you over. You cling to him, labored breaths all you can hear. He doesn't leave your cunt yet, trying to stabilize first.

"If you were worried about getting caught, I think we were loud enough for the crew to hear so." He chuckles, still fatigued. You shake your head with a smile pressing kisses to his face.

He takes his time pulling out, cum spilling out of you when he does. Your ears don’t miss the slight choked back moan when he does. It's quiet but it's comfortable. He leaves for a moment, bring a towel back to clean you up with. There are plenty of kisses here and there, most likely a pre-apology for marking you up even more then before.

He works quickly, dressing you in one of his shirts, which proves to be too big on you but neither of you care, his heart fluttering at the sight of you in it.

....

"So, nipple piercings and a belly ring, huh sweetheart?"

Tag List:

@minishimi @legalize-arson @vespidphoenix @kira-scarllet @princess-eddie @hobiesrockstargf @peachyminx @thefandomqueen2882 @kira-scarllet @coconut-jam-and @muppet-wannabe @karmazwrld @

[libraryofgage]

PJO Steddie Six

One | Two | Three | Four | Five

And we back at it again with the PJO AU

The new series on Disney+ right? Like, that's soon and I'm fucking excited to start watching it omfg

Anyway, hope you enjoy this one! A little more Steddie flirting and some of Steve being a goddess's favorite little guy lol

As always, if you see any typos, no you didn't ;P

-----

"Your, ah, bat," Chiron says, glancing at said weapon leaning against the side of Steve's chair, "it's effective against monsters?"

Around them, the sound of chewing can be heard as the kids descend on the snacks and refilling cups. Dustin, Max, and Erica in particular have chubby cheeks as they shove cookies into their mouths. In comparison, Steve hasn't touched a thing on the table. Not because he doesn't want to, of course, but because he'd rather avoid Lucas inadvertently biting him (it's happened before, he doesn't want it to happen again).

"Max's mom gave us some Celestial bronze, Dustin figured out how to melt it down, and Will suggested embedding nails in a reinforced bat. So we did," Steve explains, shrugging once.

Sitting in the chair directly to the left of Chiron is Eddie, his fingers drumming on the table as he looks between Steve and the centaur. He's been like that for the past 15 minutes, managing to keep quiet unless he's answering a question or adding a detail about their drive up that Steve missed. It's odd to see him so....restrained, but Steve can tell he's trying to be on his best behavior, likely to give him and the kids a better chance of staying.

Chiron hums in thought, considering the kids. His gaze lingers on El the longest, watching as she sips milk tea from her cup and passes Mike a bowl of grapes when he asks for it. "And you're sure El's powers aren't permanent?" Chiron finally asks.

Steve nods once. "We've timed it before. Worst cases fade in a few hours. Since El and I are related, she can't freeze me," he explains, offering a little more information than he needs to in the hopes of earning Chiron's trust.

The centaur must see through him, but his smile isn't unkind. "I see. And do you know all of their parents? The godly ones, I mean."

Steve nods and points to each kid while listing their godly parent. At the end, he points to himself and adds, "And mine is Zeus, which was probably obvious."

"Just a little," Chiron says. He considers them all for a moment before sighing. "Well, as long as you'll take full responsibility for El and her powers, I am happy to welcome you to Camp Half-Blood."

-------

Camp Half-Blood is nice.

Steve likes the strawberry fields, he's already looking forward to giving the climbing wall a try, and Eddie's brief mention of Capture the Flag earlier has him regularly glancing at the forest. The kids seem eager to explore, too, with Dustin practically lighting up when Eddie points out the Haphaestus cabin's workshop, Will and Erica looking wistfully at the pegasus stables, Lucas and Max practically vibrating with excitement when they pass the practice arena, Mike nearly breaking off from the group to jump into sparkling water on the beach, and El tugging on Steve's hand excitedly when they pass the archery field.

The tour ends in the middle of the cabins by a fire pit. A young girl is stoking the fire, keeping it going and smiling softly as the flames dance in front of her. She glances up to meet Steve's gaze, and he immediately recognizes her. He's ready to greet Hestia when she subtly shakes her head and turns back to the fire.

Steve forces himself to look away, studying the cabins, instead. There's one for each deity, and several other groups of cabins are scattered around the area like they keep adding more. A path of mismatched stone has been paved from each one to the fire pit, keeping them all connected.

His attention is immediately drawn to a cabin with a cloud and thunderbolt above the door. It looks kind of like a marble box with huge columns, a domed roof, and bronze doors that gleam in the sun. It looks imposing, and Steve can't imagine anyone actually staying in it.

"That'll be your cabin," Eddie says, pulling Steve's attention away. He grins when Steve looks at him, rocking back and forth on his feet. "And that's the Athena cabin, the Aphrodite cabin, the Morpheus cabin, Plutus, and Nemesis. Each has a lead camper in charge of getting new campers settled."

Steve blinks, frowning slightly. "What do you mean?" he asks.

"Well, the kids will stay in the cabins of their godly parents."

"No. They won't."

Eddie pauses, seeming to realize there's a problem. He looks at the cabins, then the kids, back to the cabins, and finally settles his gaze on Steve. "It's possible to visit between cabins, but we've never had a camper, like, not live in their parent's cabin."

"Has anyone tried?"

"Well. No."

"Does anyone live in the Zeus cabin right now?"

The moment Eddie shakes his head, Steve leads the kids toward the Zeus cabin. He feels a little resistance when he reaches the door, but he stubbornly ignores it and crosses the threshold to find an empty space. Well, mostly empty. He blinks, looking over the alcoves with golden eagles and the giant statue of Zeus in the middle. From the inside, the domed roof has mosaic clouds drifting across it with lightning bolts striking out from them.

"You've got to be kidding me," Steve says, frowning as he looks around the cabin. A cursory glance reveals that there is, in fact, a single bed somewhat hidden behind the statue of Zeus.

"I'd rather not sleep with your dad staring at me," Erica says, frowning at the statue before looking up at Steve. "I'm sure the Aphrodite cabin won't be so bad." Despite her words, her tone is reluctant, implying she'd rather not sleep with a bunch of strangers.

Steve closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and turns to look at the kids. Eddie is at the back of the group, watching him with a curious expression. "Okay," Steve says, his tone immediately getting the kids' attention, "I'm going to ask a question, and I want honesty. Who wants to stay in their parent's cabin?"

A few seconds pass in which the kids all glance at each other, silently asking the same question to see if anyone's answer will be different. When none of them raise their hand or say anything, Steve asks, "Does that mean you'd like to stay in a cabin together?"

The kids all nod, and Eddie looks ready to speak when Steve nods and herds the children out of the cabin. He glances at the fire pit, sees Hestia is still there, and tells the group, "Just hold tight."

He strides over to the fire pit and crouches next to Hestia, waiting patiently. After a few moments, the goddess smiles at him and says, "Hello, Steve. Welcome to my hearth. Would you like a cookie?"

Steve nods and takes the chocolate chip cookie that Hestia offers. He doesn't know where she got it from, but he doesn't question it. "Lady Hestia," he says after taking a bite, "I would appreciate your assistance."

"Your father would not appreciate other children in his cabin," she says, her voice gentle and coaxing.

"The kids want to stick together," Steve says, figuring that should be more than enough explanation.

"And what do you want, Steve?"

Steve is about to answer that he wants the same when Hestia meets his gaze. The words die in his throat as he's forced to actually consider the question. What does he want? He wants the kids safe, of course, and they'll be safest with him. But he also finds himself wanting a space of his own, his eyes glancing at Eddie before quickly looking away. He likes the idea of being alone with Eddie, something that likely won't happen unless Steve can put a door between them and the rest of the world.

He takes a deep breath, the two thoughts at war within him. Before he can say anything, though, Hestia smiles. "I'm sure Lord Zeus would prefer you stay in his cabin," she says, a brief flash of dislike crossing her eyes, "so I will work with it."

"And you won't get in trouble?" Steve asks, wondering if he really needs to worry about a goddess. She's doing him a favor, though, so he can't help himself.

"There is little your father can do to me," Hestia says, shrugging as she waves a hand toward Zeus's cabin. Nothing on the outside changes, but Steve knows the inside has been completely overhauled.

He looks at Hestia and smiles brightly. "Thank you," he says, pausing before digging into his jacket pocket and pulling out a pack of gum. "I can give you something better at dinner, but would you like one?"

Hestia lights up and happily takes a stick, carefully unwrapping it before popping it into her mouth. After chewing a few times, she blows a large bubble, grinning when it bursts a few seconds later. "Thank you," she says, beginning to blow another bubble. A breeze kicks up, sending a slight haze of smoke into Steve's eyes, and by the time he clears it away, Hestia is gone.

Steve stands, brushes non-existent dust off his jeans, and walks back up the steps. "Okay, let's try again," he says, flashing a grin at the kids and Eddie before opening the door.

The cabin has, thankfully, changed on the inside. It now has a skylight in the ceiling, allowing sunlight to stream into the room. There are several bunk beds pushed against the walls and three doors on the opposite side of the cabin. Each of the bunks has one of the kids' names carved into it, and the left-most door on the opposite wall has a small sign with Steve's name right in the middle of it.

"How is Zeus not smiting you right now?" Eddie asks, following the kids into the cabin and staring at everything around him.

Steve shrugs, watching as the kids choose their bunks by throwing themselves onto the beds and splaying their limbs out like starfish. He walks over to the three doors. The far right is a bathroom with multiple stalls and showers and the middle is a storage closet with cleaning supplies. He studies the door with his name on it for a moment before taking a deep breath and opening it.

The room inside is large. Like the main portion of the cabin, the room has a skylight. The walls are ringed with real clouds, all of them fluffy and white and leisurely drifting along. In one corner of the room is a small fountain covered in clouds and tiny carvings of women holding urns and smiling. A small bowl next to the fountain is filled with gold coins, and two oversized chairs are set up in the adjacent corner. The opposite wall is covered in shields and swords with one open spot that Steve knows is for his bat. In the middle of the wall, just above the spot for Steve's bat, a large crystal ball hovers, filled with lightning bolts that streak across it.

As Steve takes it all in, Eddie wanders over to the weapon wall and pokes the crystal ball, the door swinging shut behind him. His hair begins to float and stand on end from the static, and Steve snorts. "Don't mess up your hair even more," he says, grinning at Eddie as he bats his hand away.

When their fingers brush, a tiny shock passes between them, an almost imperceptible arc of lightning connecting their fingers before Steve jerks his hand away. "Sorry," he mumbles, frowning slightly. He can dismiss the other two times this has happened (he was surprised by the pool and barely maintaining control outside the camp), but a third time means it's significant, right?

"Don't apologize," Eddie says, reaching out and poking Steve's hand. Another shock passes, and Eddie grins wide. "It's cool."

"It could hurt you," Steve corrects, sliding back a step only for Eddie to follow. He frowns a little more, backing up again. Eddie follows again. They keep this up, amusement budding in Steve's chest and changing his frown into a smile, until Steve is backed up against the wall and Eddie is crowding into his space.

Eddie lights up like he's won and shifts closer. "You wouldn't hurt me, Stevie," he says, utterly confident in his assessment.

Steve snorts, raising an eyebrow at him. "You barely know me," he says.

"That's easily fixed."

"I could be a terrible person."

"You're not."

"I could be. Maybe this is all an act."

Eddie hums softly, leaning closer until their hands are close to brushing and they're inches apart. A low buzz starts to build under Steve's skin, reaching out to Eddie with such desperation that Steve doesn't think before grabbing his hand. Tiny sparks pass between their palms again, and Steve somehow feels himself calming down.

"I don't mind falling for it," Eddie whispers, his smile softening, and Steve finds himself thinking "it" probably isn't the word Eddie actually wanted to use.

He swallows around a sudden lump of nerves in his throat, lost for words and about to just turn to action (kissing seems like a pretty good action right now) when one of the kids bangs on the door. Eddie jerks back, blinking a few times as his cheeks start to flush. "Steve!" Lucas shouts, knocking on the door again, "C'mon, man, we wanna see more of the camp."

Steve swallows again, noting the way Eddie's gaze drops to his throat, and quickly looks away. He pulls the door open, somewhere between grateful for and annoyed by the interruption. "Have you guys figured out who's sleeping where?" he asks, letting himself get distracted by Lucas rolling his eyes and Dustin shouting about Mike stealing his bunk.

------

Tage List

@mugloversonly, @mentallyundone, @hairdryerducks-blog, @carriethesaint, @lunabyrd, @weekend-dreamer7, @farfaras, @littlelady03, @my-tears-are-becoming-a-sea20, @mogami13, @a-little-unsteddie, @itsall-taken, @queenie-ofthe-void, @tinyplanet95, @littlebluejane, @hangoversandhandgrenades, @rabbitwhoeatsstars, @bisexualdisastersworld, @steddieinthesun,

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[sailorblossoms-snowbaz]

"Simon kissing Baz comes out of nowhere" is wild when you consider:

Simon thinks about Baz constantly, to the point you can get a pretty good picture of who this character is, what his style is, his sense of humor, his favorite activities and places he likes to go, that he's hiding parts of himself, and that he's not actually a villain all before Baz even shows up (we know this bitch is funny way before he shows up!) (yes, if you pain attention, you get that this is "just a boy" and not at all A Villain from Simon's POV! When he says he has observed his soul it doesn't come out from nowhere – you can tell Baz feels like shit with tape recording incident without ever entering Baz's mind just because of the things Simon picks up on, for example)

Simon introduces you to Baz way before he introduces you to all the people he cares about, the places he likes, the food he likes... in short, Simon introduces you to Baz before he introduces you to his world. And then, he keeps interrupting those introductions to talk to you about Baz.

When Simon is in danger, his mind goes to Baz. What would Baz do? Baz is so good at this, he's so appealing, he's so pretty, this is how his magic feels like...

Simon's description of Baz's magic (described in the way you would describe passion, perhaps even desire) is more appealing than his description of a kiss (clinic and frankly gross)

Simon is not fully settled (he doesn't feel at home) until he's in the room he shares with Baz, thinking about him, trying to feel his smell and his presence

Penny, the closest person to Simon describes his relationship as "just going through the motions," and as two people who don't have the feelings people who date should have, whose "right place" in each other's life is as friends. (Not in love and not attracted, in case is not clear enough). Simon unconsciously agrees with her – way before he's using her exact same wording in awtwb, he's tellingly thinking of Agatha as "we have only ever been friends" on a page where he should be thinking of her as his girlfriend, treats every single aspect of dating her as routine and fulfilling expectations, is bothered when they break up for reasons that do not actually include her (but do include expectations)... you would expect people out of a 3 year relationship to need some time, to not be ready to date again in a while, and yet this is framed more as a weight being off their shoulders, as having to remind yourself a routine is no longer part of your life (Simon jumps at the chance of being Baz's boyfriend so fast he hasn't even had the time to fully deprogram himself, he's like "wait... no, I'm not dating Agatha anymore, right lol anyway" like twice) and as a post-mortem of "everything that wasn't right but we tried to ignore" (and never once "what we had together" as something even remotely positive or good, they don't have shit). Immediately after they break up Penny assumes Simon is upset because of it, but Simon is thinking about Baz. During the breakup, Simon is thinking about Baz (Baz isn't here!) and truly loses it when it seems like Agatha might be going after him (anyone but him!).

Simon thinks Baz being himself is enough to make him attractive and romantically desirable

Every single time Simon tells you he's doing something because he's worried about Baz "plotting something" is obviously just him wanting to see Baz, spend time with him, or actually worrying about him. You can't seriously be fooled by "I need to figure out the plots of the guy I keep describing as attractive so I'm going to watch him play football every single time and compliment his game."

When Baz is gone, Simon can't eat, sleep or concentrate. Baz notes he's unusually thin when he comes back, and Simon thinks "Yes I am and it's all his fault." He tries to reframe it as "worried because he's out there plotting" but it's obviously "worried because Baz is out there and no one knows anything about him, including his own family."

"I'll do anything to bring Baz back" ... he's unsettled about Baz being endangered in a way he never is with anyone else.

Simon tells you he cares about being the person who knows Baz best

Ebb notes is unusual for Simon to not be at football practice, even if Simon is not on the team... Simon isn't there because Baz isn't there

Wanting to knock Baz on the ground and touch him as soon as he comes back? (wanting to make sure he's okay? that he's real? Is this not a classic "lover has come back and the person who has been worried to death runs to them to make sure they're alright and also to shake them a bit because how dare they worry them so much" reaction?)

His jealousy is always centered around Baz. He never notices interest in Agatha, including a whole boyfriend before him (because he doesn't care) nor does he care about the idea of Agatha seducing someone (he puts in on the same level as not wanting Penny to seduce a vampire, and actually only reacts to Penny, making it platonic concern). He doesn't even care when Baz mentions Dev's interest in her (I have forgotten about this, someone commented that when I mentioned how telling the whole seducing a vampire bit is). He only ever cares if Baz is involved. Some of this stuff is after the kiss, but a lot is there before (If Simon fooled you, you would expect the opposite, but he makes a jealous scene to Baz, whereas with Agatha is either "let's pretend nothing happened" or facing her like actual competition... it's telling then, how he doesn't want her around Baz – Agatha can go after anyone but Baz!)

Simon keeps Baz's handkerchief to himself and doesn't want anyone else to have it. He keeps it in his pocket.

"Baz is wearing this garment that makes him look more casual and approachable and it's also more likely to hug his thighs and ass" is something that Simon finds distracting.

Simon can't sleep well if he's not listening to the sound of Baz breathing (if Baz is not in the same room as him)

Simon sulks when Baz doesn't pay him any attention in a context that has the vibes of a date (and he's the one giving it those vibes with his word choice)

Simon is practically running at Baz's house the second he finds something he feels gives him permission to do so. I know y'all have watched enough romcoms to feel The Vibes of Baz opening his door to find Snow covered in snow, out of breath as if he ran after him, and them breathless at the sight of him ("You're wearing jeans :O")... C'mon!

Simon progressively touching Baz more and more 24 hours after starting the truce. He's fucking starving for it!

Everything about Simon sharing his magic with Baz. I feel like I should not need to explain the gay of it all here. The first time they hold hands? They see stars? Only Baz being able to take his magic??? Compatibility???

Simon can't stand to see Baz in pain. It causes him unbearable pain! He wants to make it better for Baz!

Baz is "the prettiest thing Simon has ever seen." I feel like I shouldn't have to explain how romantic this is, or why this is even romantic lol

There's probably more than I'm forgetting, but most of the things coming to mind are during or after the kiss, which is technically cheating... (I already kind of cheated a bit anyway) (I keep making these lists but I'm getting better at making them lol)

[glorysalazar]

No Duolingo, no problem

Jere Pöyhönen / Käärijä x Fem! Reader

Summary: You moved to Finland a few weeks ago and can't seem to feel at home: you're starting at a new job, you don't understand the language, you're kind of going through a break up... One tired and cold evening you head into the first bar you can find and briefly meet a cute guy you can't stop thinking about for the next few weeks. You try to forget about him, but when you go back to the same bar for some random gig your coworkers have invited you to go to, you find him again. [This takes place way before Eurovision]

Word count: 5.9k

Warnings: English isn't my first language and I got a little lazy mid writing. Also they smoke a vape oops (seriously now don't do it it's shit for your health). Maybe smut implications at the end?

A/N: I didn't know what to name this lmao. I cannot believe I wrote fanficiton for the first time in YEARS because I fell in love with a Finnish guy after watching Eurovision. Anyway, I noticed an enormous shortage of Jere fics and decided to risk my final exams to serve the people. I hope it's worth it! Also apologies if the Finnish translation is shit I used a random website for it lol

Glossary:

"Anteeksi, pudotit takkisi" -> "Sorry, you dropped your coat"

"Jere, istuimme takapöydässä" -> "Jere, we are sitting at the back table"

"Olen tulossa" -> "I'm on my way"

"Hetkinen, kiitos!" -> "One moment, please!"

"Jere, sinun vuorosi on kymmenen minuutin kuluttua" -> "Jere, you're on in ten minutes"

"Minä menen nyt" -> "Coming"

"Hei kaikille, miten meillä menee tänään?" -> "Hi everyone, how are we doing today?"

"Kiitos, Mikko, arvostan sitä todella" -> "Thank you, Mikko, I really appreciate it"

"Miten uskallat tulla tänne?" -> "How dare she come here?"

"Meidän on hyödynnettävä sitä" -> "We'll have to make use of it"

"Mikä on sana?" -> "What's the word?"

...

It was cold. Hell, it was colder than she could have ever imagined before coming here. Sure, she had checked the country's temperatures before moving, researched online about what to expect for someone who was used to easy winters, had bought the fuzzy-fur-on-the-inside-boots and the heavy jacket and all that was recommended to face the never-ending snowing. But still, it somehow hadn't been enough.

A job offer and the need to find some new purpose to latch onto had led (Y/N) here. Now three weeks in, with no friends and hardly a place to call her home had helped regret start to settle in. So many things felt out of her control: the way her colleagues seemed to think she was a mess, the cashiers at the supermarket sighing because she still didn't understand the language, everyone from her hometown rolling their eyes when she announced she was leaving in a way that meant you're not gonna make it.

Yet being thrown outside her comfort zone, and being forced to move on however she could manage, made her feel at least some kind of thrive. Which was far more than she had back home.

As she walked down the street for some place to find shelter in, hands shaking and breaths almost uneven, a neon sign caught her attention. Even though she couldn't figure out the name, it looked like a pretty okay bar. She didn't need much convincing anyway; anything would do to get out of this freezing gale. She made her way in.

The warmth was a instant relief. Stripping down from the many layers of upper clothes, she took a quick glance to check the place out. Not many people, which was fair for a Wednesday evening. There was low music playing, mild chatter and a bunch of people sitting alone in the stools, which was a relief. At least she wouldn't be the only one.

As she ordered a beer (one of the few phrases she had made sure to master) she felt her hands come alive again. The beverage came along and she took a long, much anticipated sip. It tasted significantly different from the brands she was used to, but it was just fine. Alcohol is alcohol.

Finally feeling at ease, she took her phone out and started mindlessly scrolling through social media to kill some time. It was still early in the evening since she had just gotten out from work. An extra challenging day is what had led her to wander outside for a bit instead of heading back to the dull apartment she hadn't even been able to decorate yet. Going home right after would've led her to start overthinking if this job was even right for her, if she had gone crazy by moving hundreds of kilometres away from what she's always known, if her ex-girlfriend had been right when she accused her of being too impulsive, if it would be such a bad thing to give it up already and leave—

"Anteeksi, pudotit takkisi", she heard a voice say behind her.

When she turned around to give her "sorry I still don't speak Finnish" speech, she was met with a blue-eyed, dark-haired, funky but sweet looking guy holding her jacket, which she now understood had fallen to the floor. It caught her by surprise that she somehow forgot how to speak for a brief moment.

"Oh! Thank you, I hadn't noticed it was on the floor" she ended up answering, taking the jacket back as the man handed it to her with a confused look in his eyes. "Sorry, I'm not from here. I don't speak Finnish yet" she added with a small chuckle.

"No, don't worry, Finnish, uh- hard language to learn" he answered through an amusing smile, with a thick accent and a clear struggle to speak English.

She half laughed at his answer. Until now, people hadn't been so kind about the language-barrier impediment. "Yes, it is a little bit", she followed, now taking in his appearance.

Painted nails. Double nose piercings. Earrings. Facial hair. A bowl cut? Interesting choice, but it suited him surprisingly well. Her brain decided through that brief examination: he was cute. Attractively cute.

"You can try Duolingo. I use for my English, but don't work very very well" the man said the second part more as a correction to himself, making both of them laugh from the random half advice. He tried to fix it: "Maybe for you works better".

"Maybe. I'll check it out. Thank you again" her response was going to be followed by an invitation for him to sit down with her, as she felt a sudden wave of boldness: I need to make some friends in this town or else I'll go crazy. But a group of three other guys that had come in after him caught her stranger's attention.

"Jere, istuimme takapöydässä", one of them said to him, while walking to a table at the back corner of the bar.

"Olen tulossa" he turned around to answer, then looked at her once more, "I go now with my friends. Enjoy your beer" he smiled and small-waved goodbye, as she copied his gesture. "Enjoy your evening".

That small interaction was enough for her to spend the next half hour looking up from her phone, which she had retreated to, to glance at him from time to time. His group of friends and him seemed to be having a good time, and she enjoyed the view of him. He looked like a very interesting person, too, and if she was being honest, she hadn't been struck by someone new in quite some time. Not by her neighbors, not by the people she was starting to coincide with at the grocery shop, not even by her co-workers.

She noticed him looking at her from time to time as well.

When her glass was empty and just as the clock on her phone struck seven, she got up and got prepared to face the freezing wind once again. At least it wasn't that long of a walk to her place.

She lingered for a moment before exiting the bar, then finally did so while warning herself not to get too caught up on the nice stranger she suddenly felt she was leaving behind. It was just a one minute interaction. You probably won't see him again. Quit this teenager act. Focus on the important tasks ahead of you.

It was already pitch black outside, snow accumulated on the sidewalks, the air was even colder than before.

Excitement started to bubble up in the pit of her stomach.

...

Two weeks had gone by and although she had been meaning to return to the bar, she just hadn't find the time to do so. Once the job's training period ended, the hectic rythm started. In her free time, when she wasn't taking care of the house or just resting, she was trying to find some language academy where she could actually properly learn Finnish. Cute guy had been right: Duolingo just didn't do the trick.

She had hoped he would appear around the neighborhood, that maybe he lived nearby. But there had been no luck. It was fine, though. She knew she would let go of it rather quickly at that point, it's not like she had been thinking about his addictive smile or pretty eyes or soft-looking hands. Not at all.

It was Friday, and some acquaintances from work she had managed to pull off had invited her to a small gig. She didn't even remember the musician's name nor did she know where it was going to be, but nevertheless she was happy to go and actually get to have some fun with other people. Who knows, cute guy might even be there.

She didn't even realize they were headed to the bar until they were right in front of it. Inside, a small stage platform had been set up and tables and chairs had been removed to make space for the audience. It wasn't very spacey anyway, the place could hold about a hundred people squeezed together tops.

"Huh, hadn't even thought of this place as a venue" she let her thoughts trail out loud.

"Have you been here before?" her coworker Aubrey, who she had slightly bonded with because she was also a foreigner, asked her. "Only once" the girl explained, already searching for a certain someone's face in the crowd. "So, who have you brought me to see tonight?" she asked, in the hopes of at least getting some conversation non-work related flowing. "I don't really know, coming here was Mikko's idea. He's always trying to get us into these weird small rap-rock Finnish bands, and listen, I've lived here for over a year now and I still don't really get the hype" Aubrey explained making both of them laugh "But it always ends up being fun when we go out" she added.

The rest of the group had moved forward to get a good spot near the humble stage, as Mikko babbled on and on about nonsense the two women couldn't figure out from the distance. "Hey, I'm going to the bathroom real quick. Mind saving me a place?" (Y/N) asked her colleague, who answered affirmatively.

She made her way through the crowd in between "excuse me's" and "sorry's" but got there with quite ease. One of the two toilet doors had a sign that read "Out of order", so she knocked on the one that was left to check if anyone was inside. A voice that sounded vaguely familiar came from the other side: "Hetkinen, kiitos!"

Nervousness suddenly struck her. Is this who I think it is?

When the door opened there was no doubt. Cute stranger was standing in front of her.

"Oh! Hello" he blurted out just as he saw her, sounding surprised. Today he was wearing eye makeup and bottom eyeliner, which suited him very, very well. He has such a pretty face.

She realized now she had not been able to get over this guy in the two weeks of not seeing him, even though she didn't even know his name.

"Hi" was all she could manage to say. She had been looking for him when she entered the bar but she was convinced he was not actually going to be there, "It's good to see you!" she added, as a way of avoiding an awkward silence.

"You as well. You, uh, you come to... concert?" he inquired, struggling to find the last word while pointing towards the direction where the stage was to make sure he was being understood.

She noticed he was wearing an all yellow outfit that consisted of corduroy pants and a button up. He looks good in it.

"Yes, some work friends brought me here. But if I'm being honest I don't even know who's playing" she confessed, slightly covering her mouth with one of her hands to joke around, as if she had spilled a dark secret. Stranger burst out laughing. His laugh was cute. "Do you know if he's good? I wanna know if I'll be wasting my time or not" she asked him, pretending to be a diva to keep his laugh going.

He had his arms crossed and his tongue between his teeth as he slightly giggled. "No, I think he's pretty ok. I think you will like, even if no understand" his answer was playful and accompanied with another small laugh. She continued joking around, this time putting her hands up in pretend self defense "Hey, I'll try my best. Maybe using Duolingo for two days actually did something" she shot back, realizing after saying those words that she had just told Mr. Stranger she had followed his advice.

He narrowed his eyes and tilted his head playfully "You did what I say to you" he stated. "Yes, but you were right. It's not really helpful. Now I just keep getting emails from the goddamn owl and feel scared that he's going to find me and kill me for not going back to the app" she explained exaggeratedly, which made their giggles grow bigger and even he bent his knees with laughter.

Their little chit-chatting was cut when a man who looked like he had been searching for someone stopped in his tracks at the beginning of the bathroom hall and shouted at them: "Jere, sinun vuorosi on kymmenen minuutin kuluttua". She turned around to look at the source of the voice and then back at stranger when he answered "Minä menen nyt". She wished she knew what they were saying, but she assumed it had just been his friend telling him to hurry up. Also, was Jere his name? She had heard it two times already.

"Someone's always calling out for you", she commented when they were left alone again. "It's because me popular, yes yes" he joked, putting a hand to his chest and shrugging. "Listen, I go now. Concert starting soon" he explained, pointing out to the stage's direction once again "I see you there?" he asked, eyebrows raised as he put a hand to her shoulder, looking into her eyes. His blue ones had her mind going blank for a moment. That seemed to happen a lot when he was around. "Uh- yeah, sure, see you there". He smiled again then moved past her to return to the hall. She stared at him leave as she opened the door to the bathroom and finally went inside, smiling to herself and biting her bottom lip.

She hurried back once she was finished not only in fear of missing out the start of the concert, but more so in fear of not finding him again. Aubrey raised her hand to catch her attention and she followed the lead back to the group. The place was packed, it was hot, and there was a lot of chatter going on.

"What took you so long?", Aubrey asked as she got to her side, just in front of the stage, "They're about to start". (Y/N) was standing on her tiptoes and turning her head in all directions. She had just talked to him and the bar was not that big: where the hell had he hid himself?

"There was a long line to the bathroom..." she started off distantly, then turned to face Aubrey "Hey, this is going to sound weird, but have you seen-" just when she was going to make the question, she noticed some people walking up to the stage and everyone started cheering.

As she looked up, she couldn't have been more dumbfounded.

It was him. Mr Stranger was the one performing tonight.

"Hei kaikille, miten meillä menee tänään?" he shouted out to the public, (Y/N) assumed as a way of greeting everyone. He took no time noticing she was right there, which made him grin even wider. "I see we have international people tonight. Good" he said while looking directly at her. She felt her coworkers eyes on her.

"Do you know him?" Aubrey whispered-shouted to her, "I- uh, no, yes? Briefly" she responded back as he continued on in Finnish. She remembered the question she had made him earlier and mentally facepalmed. This cheeky dude. Lying to her face just so he could later get her reaction.

Since there was no way of understanding what he said, she concentrated on what she could see. Two men behind him wearing pink shirts and shorts and sunglasses. A DJ table, no instruments. There was a sign hanging from the wall that read "Käärijä". Was that his artistic name? She was very intrigued by everything going on and wondered what genre he was going to play.

She had no idea what was coming.

As soon as he stopped talking and the music started playing, his demeanor changed. His stare became fiercer, his movements provocative and unleashed. He walked around the stage like he owned it, stared at the audience like he knew they would do whatever he asked them. Every beat before he started singing rumbled inside her, made her hold her breath in anticipation. She let it out once the words started to fall from his mouth.

The lyrics could have been shit for all she knew. His deep voice, the exotic pronunciation, the hard rapping from the boy who had seemed so sweet and wholesome but was now showing another side of him, the song's rhythm and tone. She was all in. So in, that her body started swaying to the sound almost like an automatic response, and jumped around alongside everyone else when the music demanded to do so.

"Ok, he's really good" she said to her coworkers as the crowd sung alongside him. "Mikko, you were right, he's really good" she insisted to the boy beside her, who was clearly enjoying himself. "I told you!" he answered amidst chanting, "Jere is my most talented friend". Oh, okay. Mental note taken.

As he performed his songs, (Y/N) couldn't help but admire the dedication Jere put on and the absolute fun he looked like he was having. Also, she realised he was at least kind of known around here, because people were singng alongside him.

The head banging, self touching, slightly undressing and sticking his tongue out only added more to his eclectic movements and gestures that made the show feel like a mix of energetic, passionate and, why deny it, lascivious state. Her eyes were glued to him in a capitative stare, that he would catch from time to time and hold for a few seconds. Then he would turn to his attention somewhere else, but a smirk would make a clear appearance on his face.

Whenever he finished a number, the loud clapping allowed him some time to take a sip of water. The clothes he was wearing and its material soon became unbearable, which lead him to take his shirt off completely. "Sorry, it is hot in here" he stated into the microphone pretending to excuse himself as a joke, as everyone in the room made a fuss about it. He was heavily sweating all over his face, neck and torso.

If she had previously been absorbed by him, at this point it was almost unbearable. She had not expected to see so much exposed flesh, and the pectoral tattoo nearly had her weak on her knees.

For some reason, freehing himself from his clothes somehow made him behave even wilder from then on out. He started getting closer to the front row, some even holding out their arms to interact with him, him receiving the gesture with no issue. The Fin looked so confident in what he was doing, it only made her feel even more attracted to him.

He moved so quickly (Y/N) didn't even have time to process when he positioned himself right in front of her, amidst performing a song, and full on stroked her cheek for a few lasting moments, all the while mainting direct eye contact. It was as if no one else had been around them, as if this instant had been theirs only. She didn't respond to the touch by touching him herself, since she couldn't find the strength to be as bold; but the breath hitching and swallowing saliva right after were a clear sign to Jere that he made her feel things. He would quite probably feel embarrassed about it later, but right now it made him feel close to powerful.

The whole gig ended on a high note, the applause was strong and lasting. (Y/N) clapped her hands so fast they even started hurting a little, and could understand through the noise that Jere was thanking everyone for coming out to see him. As he was about to exit the stage, some music started playing over the speakers as to signal that the performance was over and everyone could retreat to either leave the bar or get a drink and stay there for a longer while. As the people from the front row turned around and waited to have a chance to move, (Y/N) felt a hand on her shoulder.

Jere looked exhausted, but it also seemed like the whole night had riled him up. "You don't leave now?", he meant to ask, but came out more as a plead. She wouldn't even dream of doing so right now. "No, no, I'm staying" she rushed to answer. "Good. Wait for me?" he went on. She could only manage to nod her head yes. He smiled and quickly went "backstage" to freshen up.

"Okay, what the actual hell was that?" Aubrey took no time to pry her, "It did not look like knowing each other briefly". (Y/N) shrugged while putting her hands in the air and half laughing, not knowing how to beat those allegations.

"It's classic Jere. Finds a girl cute and cannot stop himself" Mikko chimed in, while grinning, "Now I understand, you must be the girl he saw a couple of weeks ago over here, right?"

"He's talked about me?" she said, a bit shocked, while Mikko lead the way for the three of them to go grab a drink. "Yes, well, now that I connect the dots, that evening you came here, it was a Wednesday, right? I came too, but it must've been after you left. When I arrived he was commenting it".

Some of the other coworkers were starting to leave, not without commenting the elephant in the room before grabbing the door. "You're gonna be the talk of the office now", Aubrey asserted, making Mikko laugh and (Y/N) grow redder by the minute. "I don't even- we haven't even talked that much, really. But watching him onstage was..." she trailed off, letting out a sigh and grabbing the drink Mikko offered her, thanking him in the process. "Yes, it's his special trait. That magnetism he holds is what's gonna get him places", he agreed.

"Okay, but does this whole act mean that he always does this? Like, does he take advantage of his concerts to mindlessly flirt with random people?" (Y/N) suddenly tried to rationalize the fast track of actions Jere was taking on with her. Sure, she liked him, and she really, really wanted to have some fun. Needed it, even. This bonding moment with Aubrey and Mikko right now, this non-work related, exciting chatter; the going out; as precipitating as it sounds she was starting to feel like she was finally making friends, establishing a life. But she also didn't want to be played around with.

"Ohhh, no, not necessarily" her coworker laughed, calming her down "Käärijä the performer is seductive, provocative, even uncontrollable" he took a sip from his drink, "But Jere the person is another story. Dude wouldn't even hurt a fly, I mean it" he reassured her. He then was about to say something else, but stopped on his tracks when they all noticed the man of the hour and the tow men who had performed with him coming over to them. However, he quickly commented to the girls the following before Jere could hear them: "If anything, he's the one who has been played around with".

Jere approached Mikko first, going in for a hug, which made total sense given the fact that they were friends. (Y/N) appreciated it, because his last comment had caught her by surprise. He had changed into some track pants and graphic loose t-shirt, and over all he already looked far more calmed down and back to his more, to put it some way, innocent self. Aubrey and (Y/N) exchanged a look before introducing themselves to the guys in pink, who had not changed their outfits. Their names were Jaakko and Aleksi.

"Hey, I recognize you. You were all in the bar that day I was here" she said as a realization. "Yes, we were planning tonight" Aleksi answered, "Did you like it?" he added, to both her and Aubrey.

While the four of them engaged in small talk, the girls understood that Mikko was congratulating his friend on his performance and Jere was thanking him, "Kiitos, Mikko, arvostan sitä todella", he said with appreciation on his face, closed smile and big puppy eyes (Y/N) couldn't ignore. With one last ruffle on his hair from Mikko, the two men stayed with one arm over the other's back and turned to the group.

"Alright, let's talk in English now so we can all understand each other..." Mikko started off. "I see you guys have already introduced yourselves, very good. Now let me introduce you girls to Käärijä himself, although maybe a certain someone doesn't need it" he playfully remarked, making Jere look away while hiding his face and (Y/N) roll her eyes. "Jere, these are (Y/N) and Aubrey from work. Aubrey, (Y/N), this is Jere" he played around using a formal tone and letting out of their embrace.

"Nice to meet you" Aubrey answered, shaking hands with him and gently pushing (Y/N) forward once she was done to signal her to do so as well.

"I finally know your name" he commented, making her chuckle, "Yes, I guess you do". Mikko and Aubrey swiftly moved to give them some space, going over to Jaakko and Aleksi, who were all in in the same unspoken plan.

"You like the show?" he seemed a bit nervous as he rested his elbow on the counter and signaled the waiter to get him a drink, while attentively listening to her answer, "Honestly, I'd never been to one quite like this. I mean, I've been to rock concerts and such, but this energy you guys put on stage was totally new for me. I really enjoyed it tho, you're really good" she sincerely said.

"Oh, thank you, really" Jere put a hand to his chest as to show gratitude, "It was first concert after months of not doing", he further explained, "So means a lot all people who come here, yes. I'm so happy for this, I was worried if not work well". He sounded so humble (Y/N) couldn't help but grow to like his personality even more. She was curious to know why he hadn't played in a way, but also didn't want to intrude, so she opted for another response. "Well you should be. We all had a blast".

"You understand anything I sing?" he wondered with a perky smirk, before taking a sip from the beer that had just landed in front of him. "I didn't need to", she let it out without giving it a second thought, almost as if this was the only real answer she could give, which to her felt absolutely true. He was shocked by it and spilled some of the drink out, quickly catching the dripping by covering his mouth with a napkin.

"Ah, I make fool of me now, great!" he tried to cover up by playing down the incident. She couldn't stop laughing out loud, some people even noticing the whole scene between the two of them, specially Mikko and company who laughed as well from a distance, "That's what you get for lying to me before" she joked, but grabbed a napkin as well to clean his shirt up, softly patting it on his chest. "Sorry, I wanted to surprise" he justified. It was in that moment that she noticed they were almost the same height. When her gaze moved upward from the stain she was cleaning up, his stare was way closer than she had thought. He carried on talking.

"Also, before, I hope I not make you... uh-, mikä on sana epämukavalle?" he looked over at Mikko for help regarding a language inquire.

"Uncomfortable"

"Yes, that" Jere said, "I hope I not make you uncom... uncomfortable when I, you know-" he tried to explain himself, struggling with the pronunciation. He stroked his own cheek to interpret what he attempted to say. "Oh! No no, don't worry, it was- it was okay. I liked it, actually", his relief was evident after she assured him. He let out a nervous giggle.

Then, something caught his attention. His gaze had travelled to the door, past (Y/N), and what he saw made his face turn dead serious, although also sad. Mikko, Aleksi and Jaakko very quickly noticed what was happening. Aubrey and (Y/N) also turned around to check it out: a girl was standing by the entrance looking for someone with a worried expression.

"Miten uskallat tulla tänne?" Jaakko expressed angrily. The three men addressed Jere, who suddenly was a loss of words and course of action.

"Ex alert" Aubrey whispered to (Y/N) while sipping from her drink's straw. "They're asking him if he wants to go talk to her" she informed her friend, which (Y/N) was thankful for. It was really tiring to not catch anything on her own sometimes. While the four men were talking to each other, deciding what to do next, (Y/N) grabbed Jere's arm and everyone's attention fell on her. She just couldn't stop strongly empathizing with him because she had also recently been through a break up and knew how shitty it was. Jere seemed more at ease when she talked, "Are you okay? Do you want to get out of here?" he looked past her again, everyone following his direction and realizing his ex was coming over to them. "I do, please", "Then we're getting out of here", (Y/N) decided, "You guys coming?" she asked the rest. "No, you guys go on. We'll make sure she doesn't follow" Mikko stated, thankful for her determination.

They said rushed goodbyes and (Y/N) got ahold of his hand to guide him towards the door. When they walked past her, she tried to talk, but they were quick to get out.

As per usual, it was freezing. They started to wander off to anywhere.

...

"I'm sorry about having to go"

They had found a comfortable spot in a park overlooking the town's river and had settled there. They had walked for a while, him trying to talk about anything else but his ex.

"Don't sweat it. I fully understand" she comforted him, then took the vape he had previously offered to her and took a puff before continuing, "I got broken up with three months ago... I hate to admit it, but it's part of the reason I ended up deciding to move here", she explained. He listened to her attentively, with a stern face.

The night was silent over here. It was only the sound of the stream and their hushed voices

"Can I ask why the break up?" he inquired, not wanting to pry on too much. "Only if I can ask why the break up", she made him chuckle. "Yes, of course" he accepted.

"She said I was too impulsive and that she couldn't trust me to maintain a steady and stable relationship, because I couldn't even do that with my own life" she sighed after her explanation and rolled her eyes.

"Wow" Jere said, disapproving look on his face "Hard thing to say".

"Yes, but honestly, I don't hold a grudge anymore. She had her right to think that way too. I do so too sometimes" she admitted, handing back the electronic cigarette, since they were taking turns to smoke.

"That's shit" he commented, which made them both laugh, "But I understand, too. "My ex, Sofia, that's her name, she uh- said she not approve of music career" his gaze moved upfront, "She said It's either me or music, and I think she not like my answer" Jere let out a half-sad cackle, "This is all I ever wanted to do. I loved her, I feel like I still do a bit, you know? But..." he nodded negatively before finishing the sentence, "I need someone who give support. What I told you before, the not doing concerts? A part of it was because I got, uh, insecure".

Silence fell between them as they both got lost in their own thoughts for a brief moment.

"You know, for someone who claims to not be good at English, you can maintain quite a deep conversation" her words made him belly laugh again. He looked at her and handed the vape once more. "Don't need Duolingo for that" he referenced. He was about to speak again but cut himself. "You can go on, it's fine", his doe-like blue eyes seeped cherishment.

"Oh, I not know, talking about ex was not in my plans when being alone with a girl I like" he made her blush, "I just thinking that, you know, I'm almost... mikä on sana" he struggled again with the language "Thirty year old?" he doubted if he had said it right, and the girl nodded to indicate him he had, "Thirty year old, and when younger I thought Oh, I achieve my dreams at thirty, have the family, all that... You know? And... nothing of that" he described, "My songs, some say that. But you not understand, so..." he added jokingly to lighten the mood, erupting laughter from her.

"Hey, I'm trying really hard to find a place where I can learn Finnish! Give me a break..." she defended herself, while the giggling from both of them died down. "But, just so you know, most of us feel this way too. Having your life figured out at thirty? That only happens to the lucky ones, I can assure you" she saw his tired expression and put a hand to his shoulder, "And by the way, you're crazy talented. We were all mesmerized by your performance. You can get to whatever place you want to be, and if you don't, well... It won't be because of your fault".

They were once again looking in each other's eyes. His gaze travelled down to her mouth. They were sitting close to one another as to avoid the cold wind. Her heart beat faster. How come did she feel like he had known him for such a long time if this was practically their first ever proper conversation? Yet she couldn't fight it. She had seen so many sides of him in such a short amount of time; she swore she'd never been that much of a romantic but the alcohol, mixed with how vulnerable they both felt in that moment and the fact that she was finally feeling at ease after more than a month of such a big change in her life, probably did the trick.

"Can- can I...?" he started nervously, but was interrupted.

"Yes"

Their lips crashed, finally killing the anticipation. Her hands cupped his face and his ones settled on her waist. She felt his long eyelashes touch her face, his beard tickled her jaw and his hoop piercing was cold on her nose. (Y/N) enjoyed feeling all these parts of Jere on her. He truly was so pretty. And suddenly, she wanted to make sure he knew just how pretty he was and how much he deserved to know it. The wave of boldness she had had to ask him to sit down with her those two weeks ago, but had been interrupted, came back as a stronger force.

When they separated to catch their breath, (Y/N) kept his face close to hers. He was panting through a timid smile and hot red burned his cheeks. She noticed her face doing the same thing.

"My apartment is a five minute walk from here" she suggested.

"Meidän on hyödynnettävä sitä" he whispered, hands going up and down her sides, and the Finnish language had never sounded so seductive to her.

"I didn't catch that",

"You don't need to. I will show you".

[aroaceleovaldez]

thoughts on leo valdez? headcdanons? i

[stares at own url] ...I'll give you one for free, lol

Aro/ace Leo.... listen. He explicitly states that he plays up his false persona in aspects that he feels are lacking in his actual personality in an effort to make people like him more, and in his POVs we get a lot of him doing acknowledged-as-nonserious joke-flirting as part of his false persona. Guy who doesn't realize he's aspec trying to overcompensate for his lack of attraction by excessively hitting on people to hide that he doesn't feel attraction towards anyone? Him wondering if he's broken in a whole bunch of ways and trying to make up for it externally while having an identity crisis about that? Something something metaphor about him wondering if cause he's a Hephaestus kid he's a little too much like a machine/robot and can't feel love or The Right Emotions In General™ because of that cause he doesn't know about aspec stuff yet (or that he's autistic)? Can anyone hear me.

Related to that: Leo landing on Ogygia (island of unreciprocated love) and meeting Calypso, who (probably through love magic) actually seems to be attracted to him? And him trying to force himself to reciprocate because he figures that's just how it's supposed to go and maybe for once he's actually experiencing romantic love? And he's so desperate for someone to like him and to feel useful to someone (re: 7th wheel)? But it fizzles out almost immediately after they leave the island, because the heart-eyes wear off for Calypso, especially once she technically no longer needs him, and Leo can't keep up trying to make himself reciprocate (and can't keep up trying to put his mask back up for her, especially now that Calypso seems to actually care about it). I am literally always thinking about this.

Short king,,, I don't care what anybody says he is NOT 5'6" that is way too tall for him. My guy is 5'5" absolute maximum. I usually place him at 5'3". Tiny guy. Made of pipecleaners. Built like Bilbo Baggins...

I've mentioned it before in a couple of places (i know [here] at least) but I did not like his fake-out death in BoO. Also I'm just mad about his dropped character arc(s) in general. My ideal substitute is that instead of dying and being revived, Festus just crashes in the woods nearby and Leo has overexerted his powers too much a la Nico's shadow stuff and is nearly dead but once they get him to the infirmary he recovers and can start working on recovering from his whole depression arc too. Also maybe he loses a leg in the crash so he can match his dad just for funsies, and so that there's some amount of consequence to his sacrifice to make up for him not dying (not like in canon there were any consequences to him dying and being revived anyways...). Also something something accidental Hiccup HTTYD joke. Leo with a prosthetic is always fun. More Hephaestus kids with prosthetics.

I am very amused by the concept of Leo never having any romantic attraction to Hazel at all, possibly even negative romantic attraction once he finds out she dated his great-grandpa (especially since in canon like 90% of his thoughts about Hazel are just kind of appreciative and genuinely thinking she's really cool, if a little confusing at first), and Hazel pretty quickly gets over her side of things once she gets used to the fact that this is Definitely Not Sammy, he just Looks Like Sammy (and does not actually act like Sammy, that's just a fake persona that is eerily similar by coincidence. Real Leo is actually quite reserved and not so much of a vocal goofball most of the time). So they're just besties after their mutual weird Sammy vision and understanding the deeper sides to each other and are each other's person they're most comfortable letting their guard down around cause they've formed that level of trust. Except Frank's over in the corner seething cause he thinks this is a love triangle but he's the only one who thinks that. Leo just thinks Frank hates him for the general reasons he thinks everybody hates him (which is just an assumption he's kind of used to and expects from people, so he does not question it at all). Hazel knows Frank thinks Leo is trying to steal her from him but she's having trouble trying to keep the two of them from nearly killing each other. It's a very homestuck auspistice dynamic.

Leo and Frank eventually work out their stuff and become very good friends to meeee... let them bond over their mutual fear of fire and dead mom trauma! they have so many parallels and I want the two of them and Hazel to be a funky cute little trio!

Dragonkin Leo! That boy is a dragon!!!! I usually say his stuff is kind of spiritual origin (he doesn't really know how to explain it other than his soul is just a dragon) versus like Jason being a wolf therian with a more psychological origin (being raised by an immortal wolf pack rubbed off on him) (rip Piper being the only non-alterhuman in their trio LMAO). I imagine whatever type of dragon he is probably is very similar to Festus, which is part of why Leo clicks with Festus so quickly - he just sees himself in Festus and it's very comforting to him. He definitely makes himself some fun 'kin gear, like a nice weighted tail and wings and claws to try and help his phantom shifts feel a lil less wonky. Also him having dragon talon weapons just sounds cool. He also totally makes gear for any other alterhuman demigods.

[diaryofanidiot]

The Neverland Curse

Summary: MC is on the receiving end of a strong curse. They've been reverted back to a child until they can earn a meaningful memory from each of those they care about. It's up to the Demon Brothers & co. to care for them until then.

Cw: de-aging, demon bros being demons, MC being a Chaotic child lol

Chapter List: Prologue 1 <2> 3 4 5

Taglist: @avatarofstars @letsblazewolf @your-next-daydream

Not proofread, feel free to lmk of any mistakes

Diavolo was, in fact, not scary. Just... reeaally loud. I covered my ears as his laugh boomed for the 100th time since he arrived. Lucifer was trying to explain everything despite Diavolo's intrigue at my "current state"... whatever that was.

After a few more minutes of this going on, his face finally got serious.

"As amusing as this is, cursed books are meant to be in a separate room in the library. Very few have a key. I'll have to figure out who's negligence caused this..." He patted Lucifer's shoulder and smiled. "I'll trust they will remain safe in your care?"

"My Lord," Barbatos, who I was introduced to earlier, cut in. "Is it wise to let them continue attending RAD in this state? A grown human is one thing, but a child is another. Not even mentioning the subject matter is well above their mental capacity right now."

Diavolo stopped in thought. The brothers seemed to wait anxiously for his verdict. I looked around in confusion, hoping anyone would would give an explanation. It quickly became clear this conversation was 𝘈𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘮𝘦 rather than 𝘍𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘦.

I played with the tassels on my clothes while Diavolo motioned Levi over. Quietly listening but not fully interested in the adult conversation.

"Leviathan, there are days you take online classes rather than attend, correct? Is there anyway we could set that up with the elementary level classes as well?"

Levi nodded and glanced over to me. "I mean, that's simple. Will their grades still affect them though? I mean, with the curse in effect we won't know how they'll do."

Diavolo pondered this. "Slack will definitely be alloted for their mental age right now but I read that structure is essential in human children. More so than Demon Younglings."

With that, Lucifer began assigning tasks to each of his brothers. I felt myself lifted into the air and looked behind me to see who it was.

"Bee!" I grinned and hugged him tight, kicking my feet lightly. His twin moved behind him and tapped my nose.

"Looks like we got babysitting duty, Beel." Beelzebub nodded at his brother's words.

I heard Asmo shriek for them to wait as the duo carried me up the stairs.

"I need their measurements. Lucifer's sending me shopping for clothes. You can't possibly expect them to stay in that uniform the whole time. " he scoffed, holding my arm out next to some measuring tape.

"Already? I mean, we'll likely break the curse soon. Is a shopping spree really necessary?" Belphie rolled an eye, receiving a glare from the queen of fashion himself.

Besides the dirty look, Asmo ignored him and began fussing over me. Beel stubbornly refused to put me down, making the whole process ten times harder. It was all too much.

Asmo finally finished his task after a few agonizing moments of being measured and quizzed on my favorite colors. I squirmed in Beel's hold to be let down.

"Bee, down please..." I asked, finally being released. Once we got to the top of the stairs, I took off as fast as my legs can carry me. Finally I could explore!

"No ya don't." Belphie grabbed my arm, keeping me next to the two.

"No faiiiir," I whined. He flicked the back of my head playfully, causing me to give him the biggest meanie look I could muster.

"This place is big. You could get lost."

Beel nodded in agreement and knelt down to my level. "We can give you a tour, but you gotta at least stay in the same room as us. No running off until you get a feel for this place."

I grinned and wiggled my way out of Belphie's grasp. "I won't! I promise!"

The tour was fun, but the twins had a way of hovering over me that soured my mood. My every step was directed as if I'd get hurt if their eyes were off of me for a single second.

"There's a lot of stairs here? Think you can make it?" Beel asked, offering to carry me. I leaned over and looked up the winding staircase before pointing up.

"Where we going?"

"Up there's the attic. It's where we... er, Beel and I usually hang out." Belphie chimed in. "Last stop on the tour, then we'll show you your room."

I nodded and reached up to be carried by Beel. Stairs are hard.

The attic looked like the coziest room ever. My eyes flicked around the room before landing on the massive-

"PILLOW FORT!" I shrieked, kicking my legs til Bee put me down. I sprinted towards it and flopped down onto the pillow fort bed. I feel a weight on the mattress and look up, grinning at the twins.

"You like it?"

"Mhm!" I nodded eagerly. Belphie rested his hand on top of my head, holding the other behind his back.

I peered around him curiously before leaning back due to a soft object placed over my face. My expression made the two laugh as it took me a moment to realize what happened.

In Belphie's hand was a fluffy stuffed bear, with purple fur and galaxy ears.

"You wanna borrow this?"

I nodded eagerly and reached out for it. Belphie gave a shit eating grin and held it above my head.

"Hmmm..." He contemplated in mock thought. "Still not sure if you should."

Frustrated at the object of my desire being held up too high, my eyes began to well up, and I gave the biggest pleading look I could muster. While Belphie wasn't as easily swayed from his teasing attitude, Beel certainly was.

He reached up and took it from his twin. "Just let them have it. No need to taunt them."

Belphie rolled his eyes and flopped back onto a pile of pillows with a yawn. "Alright, Beel. Ya softie."

I hugged the plush tightly, happy with the first toy I've seen in this big house. Beel smiled at me after looking away from his brother.

"You know, I got that for Belphie but I don't think he ever gave it a name..."

Belphie, with his eyes closed, let out a "nope" popping the "p".

"So do you want do name it?"

I looked at the bear in deep thought. This was a very important job of the highest honor.

Taking a deep breath, I made my proclamation. "His name is Bloo!"

I heard a snort from Belphie but couldn't tell if it was an asleep or awake noise. Beel seemed to approve, though, much to my happiness.

"It's fitting." He leaned over to shake Belphie, who was now letting out quiet snores. "We should probably go show them their room."

Belphie huffed and turned over in a stubborn manner. I scooted closer and poked his cheek.

"Wake uuuppp! It's not bedtime!" I said before glancing at the window. Just then, did I realize how dark it was outside. "Wait, is it?"

Beel took a moment to sort through why I was confused. He seemed to have realized as he took my hand and guided me to the window. "Nope. It's not night yet. It's just always dark here."

I blinked in confusion. Always dark? Sounds scary.

"It gets darker, though later on."

"Darker? But it's already nighttime!" I struggled to wrap my head around what he was saying. How is there a place with no daytime? It sounded silly.

He cracked a smile and scratched his head, seemingly wondering about something.

"Don't laugh!" I huffed. Now he was just being a meanie by teasing me.

"...He's not lying." A new voice sounded behind me. I turned around to see Lucifer in the doorway. "I figured you two would bring them here."

"Don't make fun of me toooo" I whined, upset he was joining in on the joke.

"I'm not." he assured, kneeling next to me. "I guess it'll be harder to walk you through it this way."

He pinched the bridge of his nose in concentration. "The place we live in doesn't have a sun. I guess only remembering the human wor-"

He stopped himself short and scanned my face with his eyes. "I mean, where you come from has a sun and moon cycle. This place doesn't."

Instead of trying to understand, I focused on his fumble. "Human world?" I giggled. "You mean earth, silly. I thought grown-ups were smart."

Lucifer looked up at Beel before sighing. "I'll explain later. Have they shown you to your room?"

I shook my head. "Bee said we can go there last."

Beel reached under my arms and lifted me to his hip. He always seemed to want to carry me. Not that I minded... until he took forever to let me down again.

Lucifer looked at the sleeping Belphie in the pile of pillows and rolled his eyes. "Figured that might happen."

He sounded irritated, but his expression betrayed him, showing he wasn't really all that bothered. We started down the stairs and down a long hallway. This place seemed like a maze to me. It's no wonder the twins didn't want me running off alone yet.

"This room is yours. If you forget, you can ask anyone here, " He said, opening the door. "Hell knows it's become the new common room since your arrival"

He muttered the second part under his breath and I didn't catch much of it, not that I cared once I saw my room.

I took a deep breath and shrieked. "THERE'S A TREE IN MY ROOM!"

Beel winced at my volume, considering I was right next to his ear. I wiggled out of his grasp for the umpteenth time and ran up to it, touching it to see if it was real. My jaw dropped once I realized it was. I bet nobody else in the whole world got to have a real tree in the middle of their room.

I heard Lucifer huff a tiny laugh at my reaction while Beel smiled and sat on the plush bed.

"It was actually put in here specifically for you. You're used to more oxygen." Lucifer explained, "We weren't sure how you would adapt to here. Plus, it's native where you're from, so we figured it'd be a reminder of home."

His big words only confused me more, so I tuned them out and cradled Bloo to my chest with one arm while the other picked a leaf off the tree. This was the coolest room ever.

"Hungry." Beel mumbled, glancing up at Lucifer. The latter dismissed him.

"Asmodeus should be home soon. Do you have any more questions?" Lucifer asked, walking up behind me and placing a hand on my shoulder.

I racked my brain. I had a lot of questions, but there were too many to choose from. Where was my family? How did I get lost in the library? And why did I now have a room here?

Lucifer's gaze was too analytical of my expression for me to feel okay with asking all of them. My thumb prodded at my mouth while I shook my head.

"Nu uh."

The door swung open once the words left my mouth.

"Oh (MC)!" Asmo flitted into the room, multiple bags on his arms. He placed the bags down on the floor and reached in, holding up a shirt my size. "Ready for your fashion show?"

Uh oh...

I'm officially in for it.

[sirthisisa-wendys]

please, any Mochi, Mucho, and/or Izana talk or content. ✨️P✨️L✨️E✨️A✨️S✨️E✨️

I beg. There is so little out there about them. It's depressing. Please, sir , could we have some more (of those 3)? We are so hungry and thirsty, and much aggrieved for it. 🥺

Yeah, this is something I can do tonight. Yes, it's all coming together... and I'm going to hell for this lol

Fresh Out: Kanji Mochizuki/ Yasuhiro Muto /Izana Kurokawa x Fem!Reader

wc: 1.3k

tw: office smut, oral, handjobs, blowjobs, edging, overstimulation, c*ck milking, you name it, we got it.

masterlist

Kanji "Mochi" Mochizuki

"Mochi..." Your fingers curl into a fist and knock on the professional's door. Mochi is in his chair, staring at the screen and solving what appears to be an unsolvable problem.

"What's going on, y/n?" Mochi asks distractedly, turning a little so he can see you walk into his office.

"We're out of creamer in the break room." Mochi turns away from his computer fully, his gaze trained on you. You look so upset, so desperate, but Mochi can't understand why you're in here and not complaining to the administrative assistant instead.

"I'm only IT," Mochi notes, gesturing at his computer. "Why don't you ask one of the interns to get some creamer for you?"

"My coffee will be cold by then." You pout, and Mochi sighs, feeling the urge to tell you "no" subside. Maybe he could do you this one favor. "I know you have the best creamer in here." His right hand slides up to wipe his face, but Mochi gets p anyways and moves towards the mini-fridge to reveal his secret stash.

"You can't tell anyone about this," he begins, opening the cold box with a grunt. "This is just a one-time thing. Do you want French vanilla or regular?"

"Ew." His eyes slide toward your figure, which is now leaning against the door, pressing it closed with a soft click. "I don't want that creamer."

"That's all I've got, princess," he quips, shutting the fridge door. "Looks like you'll have to drink it black."

"That's not what you told Annie last week." Mochi grips the door once more.

"I owed Annie a favor."

"You can do me one right now, and I'll owe you one next time." Mochi resists the devilish urge to take you up on the offer, but when you flip up your skirt and flash him - no underwear - Mochi forgets about the false show of genteel manners.

"You want it in the cup or in your mouth?"

"In my mouth. I'll wash it down with some coffee."

Mochi isn't sure why he's the hot item at the office, but as you bob up and down on his length and fondle your tits, he feels the masculine urge to not give a fuck crest.

"Fuck, just like that..." he whimpers, wrapping his fingers into your hair. "Suck a little harder, pumpkin." You apply as much pressure as you can, and he jerks, bucking into your mouth.

You gag slightly, drooling after Mochi's thrust as he stands up from his chair and holds your hair in one hand. He pistons his hips forward, touching the back of your throat with his tip. You make slurping noises and do things he's never felt a woman do to his cock before, and it coaxes his cream quickly.

"Yeah," Mochi moans, letting his cock throb angrily in your mouth as you swallow repeatedly. "Get every last drop." Once he finishes, you do as you said and wash his cum down with the coffee.

"Next time," you purr, wiping your mouth. "I'll ask you to give it to me straight, no chaser."

Yasuhiro "Mucho" Muto

"Mucho, are you listening?"

"I... Yeah," he grunts, trying to keep his composure in the group call. There's no video this time - thank God - but you're beneath his desk, on your knees, and sucking his cock roughly. If his boss wasn't so adamant about remote work, he would be totally fired.

Mucho mutes his mic and leans back to look at you. Your eyes are lidded - not quite shut - but it's obvious you're enjoying tormenting him.

"You seem to enjoy edging me."

"It keeps you sharp," you note, lips wrapped around his tip. "Keeps you alert for the sales pitch meeting."

Like hell they do. Mucho's found himself wired in front of clients, practically selling his own soul for a chance to cum inside of you if the sales went through. So now...

Mucho feels his muscles tighten. "Ah, ah..."

"Awww," you murmur under the table, changing from sucking him off to holding him by the balls. "Don't cum yet. It'll ruin the fun. I want to make a nice pie for you tonight. Do you think you can wait?"

Like hell I can. Mucho strains to hear anything besides your chiding voice, but when he comes down from his almost-high, he hears his name being mentioned in the work conversation.

"Alright, I'm going to make this sales pitch short and sweet so we can all get what we want." The hand around his cock shifts upward, and Mucho tries his best not to react. "I won't need any more than five minutes of your time."

"Mucho's fast and furious with his pitches," his boss notes with pride. "He's always been a man on a mission."

There's laughter, but no one knows Mucho's only mission is to drain his balls in your cunt tonight.

"Alright, gentleman, how about we turn to page three of the report?"

Izana Kurokawa

"One more orgasm for me... Then I'll let you get back to your duties."

Izana's earned this; he knows he's earned this milking for weeks. He's been nothing but the top performer in his field, the best person to have as a mentor, the best of the very best.

And you - his direct supervisor - knew it, too.

"You really worked hard this quarter, hm?" If anyone knew Izana - COO of your company - let you strap him to a contraption on the wall and blindfolded him while wringing his dick of every ounce of cum he produced that day, they'd never look at him the same way.

"I heard you gave your managers a nice... long break since they worked so hard."

"I did," Izana pants, working himself in your hand. He eases his hips back and forth, stimulating his prostate. "I worked so hard for you, y/n."

"I know you did, baby." You press your lips to his cockhead. Izana wants to moan as loud as he possibly can, but that would alert everyone to the things going on in your office. And the last guy that did that was quickly sacked and hasn't recovered.

You continue to stroke his cock with care, and Izana writhes back and forth, trying to fight off the sudden urge to cum and cover you with it, even though he couldn't see you. He'd already made a mess he'd have to clean up off of the carpet, but that would be after aftercare and cuddles and pressing his face into the crook of your neck.

He'd clean it up for you later.

"Are you going to cum for me?"

"Please," Izana croaks, a sheen of sweat breaking out on his face. "I want to cum for you."

"Cum for me..." Izana wants to; he desperately wants to tip over the edge one more time. "I know you want to," you hum, standing up and stroking his cock forcefully. "What if I let you cum in me?"

Izana cums so hard at the thought of even touching your pussy that he almost blacks out. His eyes roll into the back of his head, and you place a hand over his mouth as he lets go all over your plush thighs. He'd clean that up to, and with a joyful spirit. His tongue slaivates at the memory of cleaning your breasts after he came prematurely his first time. It tasted like heaven...

"That's a good boy... Ready for me to take you down?"

"Yes," Izana whimpers, parched and aching and needy. When you press the man against your chest, he exhales deeply, feeling the warmth of the love he thought he'd get from a mother figure. But alas, he's here with you, cumming to your tune.

"You did so good," you murmur, patting his head. "And you'll keep doing good for me."

"Yes," Izana breathes. "Yes, I will. Only for you."

[deathsbestgirl]

So Never Again. Just saw this post and the way she looks up at him there is on a level with Mulder’s famous Fallen Angel eyes and his reaction to her? He doesn't melt? He chooses violence and being a dick? Please tell me why.

i LOVE this question because it is so easy to see it from scully's perspective. it's her episode. but you really have to think about mulder's perspective.

for mulder, this seems out of nowhere, and in his mind she was extremely inattentive with his informant on a case he's taking seriously. he doesn't understand what she's really asking or what the problem is, and a big part of that is she doesn't exactly either. it's almost like she's blaming him for the stand still in her life, but at the same time wants to be seen & appreciated (in a way that she understands, can feel, can see). and i don't think she could have figured it out the way she needed to with mulder. she needed the safety of talking to a stranger, someone inconsequential to her life. (like there's no way she could have that "other fathers" conversation with him lol) so ed jerse is the one to give her that. (she does with ed what she can't yet do with mulder. something neither of them are ready for and she isn't brave enough to do yet. and like. idk i just think she needed this! regardless of mulder lol)

like: "this isn't about you. or maybe it is, indirectly. i don't know." the one thing she got right is "i don't know" lol so of course mulder is confused!!

if you place leonard betts first, she's contemplating what she's leaving behind. has she had any impact working on the x files? on mulder? who is going to remember her? what evidence of her life will be left? in that office...it looks like she's had very little effect. (but i do not subscribe to this one.)

if never again is first, which i like better lollll (it makes more sense to me. i understand why people like lb first, it's more clear cut. it puts a reason behind her behavior. but i just don't think it quite fits. scully literally doesn't know what's wrong. if she was already worried about cancer, i think it would come across differently. but she's frustrated & confused and she wants for something she can't admit, express, pinpoint, articulate? idk what word i'm looking for lol) scully's just hit that point in her pattern again, her cycle...it took her four years, and after some rough cases (paper hearts – she couldn't help mulder despite how she tried, el mundo gira – a dead end. and idk, so many of their cases. and she's always wrong, he always does the crazy thing, he's always hurt)...well anyway, at the end he's still asking "all because i didn't get you a desk?" he still isn't quite understanding, until she says it's her life and he almost says "yes but it's become mine." he doesn't say it, they sit in silence, and in leonard betts, he tells her she did a good job & should be proud. all his little jokes like he's trying to make her laugh, to get back to their usual banter. because he wants to make her smile. so he understood at least a little by leonard betts. but they also come to a silent understanding. i just love the way kae talks about it. and i think the end is kind of the explanation for the beginning. the end is the real answer to the whole episode, and what it took to get there...and this post here, kae just understands him and talks about him in a way that i feel. it's exactly what i see in a way i could never articulate. (and she does my favorite thing!!! connects different moments. the characterization is so good.) and she has such a special insight to both of them, different patterns, but to me two sides of the same coin.

and so, either way, at the beginning of never again, he's completely thrown because he doesn't know. this is when their bad verbal communication and personal issues/insecurities/fears take hold. they're both so good at taking too much responsibility.

we're seeing into scully's mind a bit, but we aren't really seeing into his. but he's afraid, he doesn't want her to leave (something he's feared for a long time), he thinks space is the answer to whatever's going on. but he's also kinda needy and he can't just say that. so he calls her and they misunderstand each other again and she makes a date. he isn't trying to be an ass but he's scared & defensive, and he gets like that when she makes him nervous. like whenever she believes (beyond the sea, revelations, all souls, en ami). it feels like that to me. he's afraid, but this time he thinks he's the problem, their work is the problem. and he kinda said the worst thing he could say to her at that moment. "you were just assigned" — he has no idea how she understood that, how it hurts her. (and she's not thinking about how he means it, what he thinks/feels/fears.) and really, it's because she sucks at just saying the thing as much as he does. it takes them a long time to work out their direct communication. their unspoken communication, the way they work on their cases doesn't translate to their personal relationship. as intimate as their partnership is, working through their own issues takes time and it's those things that hinder them moving forward for so long. ya know?

i think @randomfoggytiger talks about it beautifully here — in depth essay on never again. here they touch on mulder's fear/walls & scully's insecurities/needs. it's a journey!! which they talk about here. and i forget what this one was (lol) but i'm sure i saved it for a reason: a little master post. i love the way foggy breaks things down, especially visually. it's something i could never do.

i also reblogged some other never again posts. not completely on topic but it's all connected!! (you can definitely go through my never again tag to see more probably too!)

[sugarpasteltmnt]

IN HIS DEFENCE YOUR HONOR, HE IS JUST A SILLY BOY

I'll just drop a little art here, keep doing what you're doing, you're doing amazing! You write so well and I can only imagine the effort it takes to pull out these chapters, so please take care of yourself too!! I've already absolutely word-vomited how much I love your work and hyukin I'll do it again-

The way that all of the brothers react to Leo is just so believable and heart-wrenching and oh my goodness poor Raph give the poor boy a break- The recovery arc that hopefully will come is gonna be a long journey (Probably more Dr. Delicate touch than Dr. Feelings slapping some of that self-sacrifice out of Leo-). Also, the sibling sense needed to make both of the climatic scenes in your fics during the Thanksgiving parade is just great, I swear it's like that sometimes though.

At the start of chapter 22 he isn't Void he's Leo. He is coping with these events as Leo. Only when he realizes that it's all real does he slip back into the Void mask. We as readers can see the literal struggle between Leo and Void through his ninpo, as it seems like (correct me if I'm wrong, or don't lol) it burns the krang infection, it seems like the only thing that can actually hurt the infection. Leo is extremely damage-resistant to the point that even nonconsensual amputation isn't really an issue to him but ninpo seems like the only thing that can genuinely hurt him. Even if I'm completely off with this whole rant, it's so cool to see how the story unfolds, trying to figure out the limits of your universe is an amazing experience.

Every time you update I feel so glad that I can see the story unfold in real time. I can't wait for the next update, but don't feel like you need to push yourself for this fic, you're doing great, especially with the quality of what you write! Maybe it's a little repetitive at this point, but really I find it absolutely unbelievable what you are able to do and I admire your ability to write such convincing narratives.

Anyways, please take the silly boi :D

THANK YOU YOU'RE SO SWEET!!!! it makes me so so so happy to hear that you're enjoying both perspectives, because it's very fun to write and i love to explore what everyone might be feeling ;w; and i'm having a LOT of fun exploring Ninpo. I'm a little sad we didn't get more of since the show ended right after the Shredder fight, but I like to think that there's nothing like it-- something unique just for them 🩵

AND THANK U FOR THE FANART AHHH 🩵😭💞💘💗‼️