#personally I think it was the worst move they could make

[wri0thesley]

eyes - neuvillette x reader (8.5k)

you have always known, one day, you would be married off to someone not of your choosing. but you certainly never expected it to be the iudex himself.

cw: not sfw text. explicitly chubby virgin reader, some insecurity, arranged marriage. double dick neuvillette, cunnilingus, bathing together. reader is afab but referred to with neutral pronouns.

this was a commissioned work.

There are certain standards one must follow as a child of Fontainian society; certain things that are expected of you. A certain way to speak and move and act - a set of rules that have been laid out clearly for you since the day you were born. You will know which fork to use at which mealtime. You will know the difference between what is appropriate to wear to a matinee and to an evening show. You will trust your elders to guide you, and you will be grateful for the life that they have oh-so-painstakingly laid out. 

So you are not surprised when your mother tells you that you are to be wed. 

You have even been expecting it. Since you became of a marriageable age, you have looked at all of the other children of society and wondered what kind of match your family might make. One of your own generation? Older, perhaps - more secure in their wealth and their status and position? You have even laughed about it with your friends, when you were out of earshot of all of your elders - discussing who would be the worst options, gossiping about who has had who over for tea recently. 

She’s surprisingly tight-lipped about who you’re going to wed, too. That’s not unexpected either, though it does make anxiety roil hot and sour in your gut. Plenty of children have run away from home so as not to be wed to somebody decades and decades their senior, or somebody with a reputation for cruelty - or sometimes even because the match that has been made has not taken into account a love affair unbeknownst to the elders of the family. 

You have no such love affair to romantically dash off into the sunset with; you have been a good and dutiful child your whole life. And though you do, perhaps, wish that you could know what it was like to have a love so fiery and passionate you would disobey the only life you’ve ever known . . . you have come to accept that will not be your lot in life. 

You have even worried once or twice that somebody, upon finding that they were engaged to you, might wish to run away. You have looked in the mirror and scrutinised your face, your posture, your body - a body that has fallen out of fashion recently, the beauty ideal in Fontaine being very much ‘look as much like Lady Furina as possible’. It is your body, though - and it has stood you in good stead, and the night in which you are finally to meet your betrothed your mother and your maid stand in your bedroom looking approvingly at how your gown falls over the soft peaks and curves of your hips and chest. 

All you know about this person who you are to be wedded to is that every time your family talks of them, they can barely hide the smiles on their faces and the superior lilt to their tone. Whatever match has been made for you . . . they are utterly ecstatic about it. 

“I think he’ll be more than pleased,” your mother says, tugging at a fold of fabric - she had chosen to have this dress made in pale blue, though it is not a colour that has been in your wardrobe before. A man, then; a well-placed man who makes your family giddy with excitement - a man partial to the colour blue and a spouse whose figure runs more to curves than lines. 

It is not a lot to go on. 

So you do not know what to expect, as you are brought down the stairs and into the dining room. All kinds of thoughts dance through your head; some pleasant, some . . . not so. You know that you will meekly accept what you have been given, the way you have been brought up to do - and it is not lost on you that the trajectory of tonight will perhaps influence your life for years and years to come. There is always the chance that, seeing you in person, your parent’s intended will reject you--

Your mind is churning at a hundred thoughts a minute as you step inside the dining room - but when you see who is seated at the head of the table, all of those thoughts seem to clatter to the ground at once. 

It is a wonder that your mouth does not drop open. 

In all of the time you have spent gossiping about possible matches in society, nobody has ever mentioned - even off-handedly - the possibility that the Chief Justice of Fontaine may be looking to marry. 

But there sits Monsieur Neuvillette - a little awkward, yes (he is being chattered to most insistently by your father), but straight and tall and handsome in his chair, his robes of office perfectly pressed, his face schooled carefully into a polite look of vague interest. Your mother coughs, and he looks up--

And his eyes, the colour of the evening sky or a perfect sapphire, widen just a touch. His mouth opens, the barest amount - and you swear that as his gaze sweeps over your form in your carefully chosen blue dress (a choice you are beginning to understand), he visibly swallows. 

“Ah,” he says, and he stands - walking towards you, bending and inclining his head. “It’s a pleasure to . . . finally meet you in person.” You’re still rather stunned speechless by everything that is happening - you cannot help but feel as though things are happening around you, and not to you - but as Neuvillette uses one of his gloved hands to take yours and to press a lingering kiss on your palm that makes your entire body feel as though it is on fire, you are suddenly all too aware of just what is going on. “You look radiant tonight.”

“M-Monsieur,” you say in return, and you sweep what must be the clumsiest curtsey of your life. “I . . . I have to admit that this is a surprise.” 

“Not an unwelcome one,” your mother puts in before he can respond. “Of course, we’re delighted with this match, and we’re absolutely sure you’ll be delighted with them--”

“I understand,” Neuvillette says, his eyes not leaving you. “If I may be frank with you, until recently I had never thought to marry.” 

Questions rise in your throat. If he had not thought to marry, why was he doing it now? And why you, when surely he must see the upper echelons of society every single day? What had brought him to your family’s door, asking after your hand over everyone else he must have had first pick of? But these are not polite questions for the dinner table, when your mother and your father are already ushering the two of you to your seats beside one another and beaming so brightly that it hurts to look at them. 

The dinner table is a place for light, polite conversation; the last opera you saw, the weather. Neuvillette smiles into his wine glass - a glass you notice is filled with water - when you mention that it has not seemed to rain much recently. You notice him looking at you every so often, over rims of glasses and delicate bites of foods . . . but you know that you, too, cannot help but sneak a glance at the Iudex of Fontaine seated by your side. 

Your future husband! Your betrothed! The man you will spend the rest of your life with! 

As much as you may wish for a moment alone with him, you know it is not proper; so when he stands and kisses your hand again and your father takes Neuvillette into his study to hash out some further details of your impending nuptials, you swallow your disappointment and remind yourself that you will have years with Neuvillette, to learn his secrets - to discover why he has decided to take you as a spouse. 

There is little time for getting to know one another beyond the most surface of levels when a marriage has been arranged for you - there is even littler time when the man you are going to marry is one of the most powerful and busiest men in Fontaine. Even the few times you see each other as the wedding looms closer - the period your parents optimistically refer to as ‘courting’ - there is little time to get to know his heart. 

You realise, at the final fitting for your wedding clothes, that the first time you will be truly alone with the man who is to be your husband will be the night of your wedding. 

And that particular thought . . . 

You know the ways of the world. You know what will be expected of you, in order to properly consummate a marriage - you know that you will be intimate with Neuvillette for years to come. But the idea that the first time that the two of you will be able to snatch time with one another with no parents or gossip-mongers or anybody else around will also be the time in which you and he will legally become one (and you know, from experience at the Opera Epiclese, that Neuvillette is nothing if not a stickler for the law) . . . oh, it is enough to make you reconsider one last time running away from your responsibilities. 

“Mother?” You ask, your voice quiet, the night before your wedding. You have spent the entire day overseeing flowers and being asked questions, watching the cooks and the waiters bring in fine delicacies from all over Teyvat (Neuvillette had not wanted hosting duties; you get the impression that as long as the ceremony was done legally, he would be pleased enough to call you his spouse. But your parents have been preparing for this your whole life, so they had indeed wanted the spectacle of their child marrying the most powerful man in Fontaine. With no family to speak of, he had acquiesced to their desires. Your parents are in shivers of delight that Lady Furina will, too, grace the halls of your family home). “What if . . . what if I do not please him?”

You are sitting before your dressing table, in your sleeping robe, haunted by thoughts of all of the things that could go wrong whilst your mother double checks your wedding gown and the jewellery you are to wear tomorrow. She looks over at you - her face is normally hard, but as she sees the knit of your brow and the bite of your teeth into your lip, she sighs softly. 

“You have nothing to worry about,” she says, stroking your cheek. “The Iudex asked for you specifically.” You blink at her, wide-eyed, and she laughs a soft little laugh. “Don’t let it get to your head, now; they have been badgering him to marry for some time . . . but he did ask for you, out of all of the people he could have had. So take heart in that. Do you think him a foolish man?”

“No,” you shake your head, your voice a soft whisper. You suppose that Neuvillette is many things, but ‘foolish’ would not be one that would cross your mind. 

“There. You and he are going to have a happy life together.” A sly look steals over her face. “Ah . . . are you worried about the wedding night itself?”

“Mama!”

“It’s something we all go through, my dear.” She catches your chin in her hand and smiles at you, and for a moment, despite all of the times you have disliked her for the life you have been forced into . . . you are reminded that she is your mother, and she wants this to work just as much as you do. “Do not be frightened of him. Do not be overwhelmed by him. He has chosen you to be his equal, but he will not expect too much of you. I promise . . . everything is going to be fine.” She gives you a wink. “And if I were you, and were to marry a man who looked like the Chief Justice - why, I’d be positively thrilling with excitement at the thought of my wedding night!”

“Mama!” This time, your scandalised tone brings her out in peals of laughter, and she kisses the top of your head as she leaves the bedroom. The door clicks behind her. 

Your final night in your childhood room; your final night unmarried. One last slumber amongst your own silken pillows and sheets (what kind of bed, you wonder, does the Chief Justice sleep in?). 

That night, you dream of a sea that churns with a similar anxiety to the one that you feel in your own belly. 

The morning of your wedding day, it is raining. Your family fuss over it, but as you stand at your window with people running all about you, messing with your hair and rearranging your dress and having arguments about your bouquet, you cannot help but find it comforting to watch the rain fall in droplets, stopping and starting again, mirroring your own still-nervous heart. 

You think you will falter at the last hurdle, as you stand outside of the Opera Epiclese - normally a place of theatricals, but also a place of the law, and the place that the most important part of your wedding day will occur - and take a deep breath ready to start your new life. The bouquet in your hands is full of rainbow roses and romaritime flowers, bursting with colour; you are grateful to have it to hold on to, as the doors are thrown open and you walk slowly down the aisle of the theatre. 

Your eyes desperately seek out someone who will provide you an ounce of comfort in the crowd, all peering at you curiously to see the person who has finally tamed the Chief Justice. This is a spectacle as much as a wedding, you suppose; and as you see some people whisper behind their hands, you wonder if you have been found wanting. You bite your lip hard to stop yourself crying - and then, onstage, his hands clasped over his cane, your gaze finds Neuvillette himself. 

The patter of the rain on the roof of the Opera stops all at once. For a moment, you swear everything falls silent, as you and he look at each other. 

Slowly, his mouth breaks into a small, secret smile, and the buzz of whispering intensifies - but that smile is enough to steady you. To remind you he has been nothing but kind and polite. To whisper to you that perhaps this union is a thing to look forward to, and not to be feared. 

He looks as handsome as ever; his suit perfectly-pressed, his hair streaming in a neat silver white tail behind him. There are flowers that have been braided into it; and you see, as you ascend the stairs to the stage, that there are a group of Melusines sitting in the front rows with matching little bouquets of Lumidouce bells grasped in their little hands, beaming up at the Iudex. 

Lady Furina presides over the proceedings, tossing her hair and preening and holding the audience in the palm of her hand - another reminder that theatrics are more respected than the law in a land like Fontaine. But you cannot bring yourself to mind too much - not when Neuvillette’s smile is steady, his eyes trained on you the whole time. Not when, as he repeats the words in a clear voice like a ringing bell, he whispers them again as if they are only for you. Not when he takes his bare hands - ungloved, for the exchange of the rings - and holds your own, soft and round and dimpled, as he slides the ring onto your finger as if you are the most delicate thing in the world. 

When Furina - with more glee in her voice than you would have expected - announces that he may now kiss you, you feel your shoulders draw up in anxiety. The entire audience goes quiet, waiting with baited breath for this - as if it is one of the things they have been waiting for all day. Neuvillette, though, keeps his gaze on you. He acts as though there are not a thousand Fontainian citizens watching your every move - slowly, he places his arm around your waist and draws you closer to him, so close that the crowds seem to melt away and there is nobody but the two of you. 

“You look beautiful, by the way,” he murmurs into your ear, angling his head so that the crowd cannot see that he has said something that is only for the two of you (no doubt they would be baying to be privy to the marriage bed, if they thought they could get away with it) - and then, his lips brush against yours. They are cool and soft; the lightest tang of sea-salt remains on your own after he is done. The crowd roars with their approval as he steps back and bows to you, pressing his forehead to the back of your hand - and you stand there, trembling, excited and nervous and frightened and on display all at once, as your new husband takes you by the hand and gently, gently leads you back down one of the aisles of the opera, out to the waiting carriages to spirit you away from the spectacle of the opera house and into the spectacle that your parents have designed as a celebration. 

As it turns out, it is not so bad. Your parents have understood, at the very least, that the two of you will be retiring early to Neuvillette’s residence (your trunks already packed, already loaded onto a carriage to be delivered in the next few days). They have managed to rein themselves in; only invite the most important echelons of society to this celebration, despite the luxury and the excess that has been coming into the house for weeks now. 

So you bow to Lady Furina and accept her compliments with a stutter and hot cheeks, Neuvillette by your side, his steadying hand on your waist. Neuvillette expertly manages to weave around your family’s ballroom as if he has been doing it all his life - but then, remembering how much older he is than you, you suppose that he has been doing it at least as long as you have been alive. He has a remarkable way of remaining polite, yet not brokering too much room for small talk and gossip, as if he can tell that this kind of thing is not your favourite. 

You overhear, when you have been spirited away from your husband’s side for ten minutes by some of your friends, an older couple accosting Neuvillette. 

“You had all of the choice in the world,” the man says, poking Neuvillette in the centre of his chest - from the slur in his words, you think he may have partaken in a touch too much of your parent’s imported dandelion wine. “Whyever did you make this one?”

Your heart stutters in your chest; a trickle of sweat rolls down the back of your wedding gown. This is what you have been fearful of, this whole time - you being found wanting, you being seen as not good enough for Neuvillette--

But your new husband merely smiles. 

“I have eyes,” he says, mildly, and he turns away from the couple and brings an end to the conversation that you know must leave them utterly blistering. He comes to find you, instead - apologising most profusely to your friends for having to steal you away. 

You stay for as short a time as you can manage, with the congratulations and the toasts and the speeches (a Melusine or two makes a speech for Neuvillette; you much prefer their simple honesty to some of the awful gushing things that come from the mouths of connections of your parents who have never given much care to you before), with the cake being cut--

“Here,” Neuvillette murmurs, and your cheeks go hot as he feeds you a bite of his own slice from the same fork he has been using. “I must confess that this is rather too sweet for me.” 

By the time that Neuvillette begins to make his excuses, bowing and smiling and thanking his hosts and the guests, the moon is already hanging white and plump in the black velvet of the night - and as you say goodbye to your parents, your Mama gives you a wink that makes you go hot all over. 

Neuvillette’s residence is surprisingly unassuming; it is smaller than your parents house, and he does not employ half as many maids or staff. For a moment, his gaze flitters over to you, and you sense a nervousness in the air. 

“I am sorry if it is not what you were expecting,” he says, voice clipped - but you shake your head, and try and let some of the anxiety drain from your tight shoulders. 

“It’s lovely,” you say, firmly, as he helps you out of the carriage. This time, when his gloved hand - he has chosen to put his gloves back on, his wedding ring glinting over the black satin - touches your waist, you gasp. The frisson of promise that runs through the touch makes you feel dizzy with possibility. Neuvillette looks at you with those dark sapphire eyes of his, and murmurs;

“I apologise if you’re nervous. I have no wish to . . . make you do anything you don’t want to. I am more than willing to wait-- the law does not require we consummate directly on our wedding night, and if you are frightened--”

A drop of rain lands on your cheek. 

“No,” you breathe out, all in a rush, surprised to find it falling from your lips as you say it. But then you think of his lingering kiss, of the way he shut down that couple at the wedding reception, of that private smile he had given you to soothe your fears as you walked down the aisle, and you’re even more surprised to find that you mean it. “Not at all. I-- I am nervous, but . . .”

He gives you another soft, gentle smile that makes your heart feel ready to burst out of your chest. The raindrop you had felt has no companions; simply a freak occurrence in the weather. 

“I must admit,” he murmurs, as he helps you towards his front door. “I am very pleased to hear that. I hope you won’t find it remiss of me to admit that I have been . . . rather looking forward to it.”

Your cheeks go hot again. The idea of Neuvillette, imagining you like that, even waiting for it . . . it is hard not to find it at once flattering and embarrassing. Neuvillette opens the door for you, but as you go to step inside--

“Ah, just a moment--” He leans his cane against the front door, and reaches for you. “I’m aware there’s a custom about bringing one’s new spouse over the threshold, and I would hate to break tradition--”

“You don’t have to,” you say, stuttering on the words. “I’m not light--”

But Neuvillette has already reached for you, already wrapped a surprisingly strong arm about your waist - and before you know it, as if he hasn’t needed to exert any energy at all, you have been pulled into his hold, held like a princess being rescued by a knight. 

You look up at him, and he looks down at you, his smile soft once more. 

“You feel perfectly light in my arms,” he tells you, as he steps over the threshold with you and gently places you down as softly and carefully as he had picked you up. You were not expecting the strength from him - he wears his robes of office, of course, and he certainly has the height, but there’s a kind of willowiness about him that does not exactly betray him being able to do such a thing. 

(If he can do that, a wicked little voice in your head whispers, imagine what else he could do to you - how easily he could manipulate you in a more intimate moment--)

It’s almost as if he can read your mind. He laughs a clear, silvery laugh like the rushing of a river. 

“Shall I show you to our bedchambers?” He asks you. “I’m sure you’ll want to get all of your finery off soon; it looks rather heavy. If you are not opposed . . . perhaps we may bathe together?”

Your heart, beating double time in your chest. Neuvillette’s eyes, cool and calm. The way your blood seems to sing in your veins. You smile back at him. 

“I would like that very much.”

Neuvillette’s house may not be as extravagant as expected, but the bathroom more than makes up for it - and most of all, the bathtub set into the floor, as wide as a swimming pool. He sees your look of surprise and laughs, sounding for once a little embarrassed.

“I enjoy being able to relax in water - natural water most of all,” he tells you, “but it would be rather . . . scandalous, if an ordinary citizen were to find me unexpectedly. This is my compromise. One of my vices, you may say.”

As vices go, it is a tame one, and you look at the bathtub - already full of clear water, so you can see the mosaic tiles on the bottom (the tub itself is stepped, so one can simply sit and relax at one end or perhaps even use the other end to swim a few strokes). 

“I loved to swim when I was little,” you say, wistfully. “As I got older, my parents thought the idea of me wearing my swim clothes too often was improper, but . . .”

“Well,” Neuvillette says, placing his hands upon your hips with only the lightest of pressure as if he is still too afraid to touch you too much. “You are welcome to use this bathroom for swimming whenever you wish. It is not quite the same, of course, but I want nothing more than you to be happy here. What’s mine is yours now, sweet one.”

It’s the first pet name he has used for you, and it makes your mouth go dry. Slowly, you turn towards him. You are about to be naked together, you suppose - even if you are going to bathe before anything more intimate happens - so you ought to be braver. You reach for his face, palms warm on his cheeks - and though his eyes flash in surprise, he gladly leans in to let you kiss him. 

This time, you let the kiss linger for longer; this private moment in the sanctity of a home that is to be shared between you. He sighs into your mouth and pulls you closer himself, so as you cradle his face his palms rest upon the ample curve of your hip. His teeth tug, almost shyly, at your bottom lip - and you feel your lashes flutter, your heart give an answering skip in your chest. His tongue traces the seam of your mouth and you part your lips, allowing him to take you as he wants - but even this ‘taking’ is done slowly, carefully, like a man who wishes to savour you. 

You pull back, your breath coming in soft little gasps - Neuvillette’s eyes are half-lidded, but it does not stop him smiling at you, putting you at ease. 

“We ought to disrobe,” he tells you, kindly - and he gently motions for you to turn, so that he may work at the difficult laces and hooks of your bridal outfit. You feel a little shy, as the fabric pools around your ankles, and you are left bare - but then he is turning you around, and in his eyes you see something that must be close to worship. 

“I am a man who says what I mean,” he tells you, tilting your chin upward toward him. “I have not spared your ego, little one - everything I see before me is . . .” He shakes his head, letting loose a ragged breath, more undone than you’ve seen him before. “More than I could ever have asked for.” One gloved finger trails across your lips, tracing a patch from the corner of your mouth down to your throat, your collarbone - reaching behind you to unclip your undergarments, so they fall to the ground with your gown. “You’re truly the loveliest creature.” 

“I--”

He shakes his head, smiling still. 

“Perhaps in my choice of a spouse,” he murmurs, “I let my own desires overtake me a touch . . . but ah, if you could see yourself the way I see you--”

You hesitantly hook your thumbs into your underwear and stand before him, naked completely - and you win, for your bravery, another ragged breath. 

“I must warn you,” Neuvillette murmurs, as he reaches for his own collar and begins to unbutton, to untie, to work the trappings of his own outfit off of himself. “You may be . . . surprised.”

“By what?” You feel brave enough to give him a little smile, though your heart is still beating faster than you’ve ever felt it. “Am I to discover you have been hiding extra limbs?”

Neuvillette’s gaze does not falter. 

“Something like that,” he agrees, mildly, as he slips his shirt and coat from his shoulders. His skin is milky pale in the moonlight streaming in from a window set high in the wall, his hair glimmering silver. He takes your breath away. 

Who would have thought you would ever find yourself in this position with the Chief Justice of Fontaine? 

He unbuttons his placket slowly - and as he carefully works down the fabric of his trousers, you realise exactly what it was he was warning you about. 

“I hope I do not disappoint you,” he says, as your mouth falls open at the sight of his cocks; resting one atop another, both half-swollen already. Your mouth goes dry at the thought of your wedding night, still to come. “I assure you, I know exactly what to do with them.” 

“I--I didn’t mean to--!” Your voice comes out a little panicked - but then, Neuvillette lets out a soft huff of laughter. 

“It’s quite alright,” he tells you. “But I will reiterate; I will not hurt you. You are . . . more than welcome to touch. But if we do not get in soon, I fear the water will have gone cold.” 

Neuvillette helps you into the bath, surprisingly unashamed of his own nakedness. At the press of his body against yours as he helps you down the steps inlaid into the tub, you feel his cocks jump against you, the wet smear of something against the dip of your back - but then, Neuvillette is lowering himself into the water beside you and letting loose a sigh of pure bliss that sends a coil of heat spiralling to between your thighs. 

You have never partaken in the gossip that surrounds Neuvillette, about his pointed ears or his inhumanly lovely face or his age - you would never have expected what he is hiding in his trousers. But as you sit beside your new husband, you cannot help but feel as though it makes perfect sense - a man like him could not be ordinary. And you trust him when he tells you he will not hurt you; when he says he knows what he’s doing, you think of all of the time he has on you and you have to suppress a shiver of desire for what he may have to teach you. 

He touches you, as the two of you bathe together. Lets his fingers massage the shampoo into your hair, lets his hands slide the washcloth over the contours of your body until you can barely breathe for the hot trails of fire that he leaves in his wake. You do not think he means to inflame you so - but then, he allows you to do the same thing to him, and he shudders and leans back into your touch, a soft noise almost like a purr falling from the back of his throat, and he realises exactly what bathing together is doing to you both. 

Still. The two of you linger there; touching one another. Getting to know one another’s bodies without any fear, for beneath the water all is muffled and calm. His fingers learn the shape of your nipples when he pinches them, how they pucker and harden beneath him. His palms learn the weight of your breasts, heavy and ample in his hands. His mouth learns the taste of your shoulders, as he drops hot, wet kisses across the span of them, the nape of your neck. And in return you feel the silkiness of his hair, the softness of his skin, the feel of his corded muscle beneath his deceptively slender frame. 

By the time the two of you are wrapped in fluffy towels the colour of an early morning sky, you are both hot with want. Neuvillette’s twin cocks seem to pulse with his desire; you can no longer tell if you are slick and wet from the bath or from the space between your thighs. You shyly look at one another through lowered lashes, though, as the wedding night and all it entails comes closer and closer and closer. 

“It’s a beautiful night,” you say to him, when the two of you have finally entered the bedroom. Neuvillette’s window is open a crack, enough so that the lacy curtains flutter in the light night-time breeze. “You would hardly think it’s been raining on and off all day.”

“Mmm,” Neuvillette agrees, as you feel him come up behind you. He slowly takes your hands, encouraging you to drop the towel; and then you stand before him, naked again, but with something far more than a bath in your future. He leans in and presses a kiss to the sensitive place where your neck and shoulder meet, just barely grazing it with surprisingly sharp teeth. “I should not wonder if it doesn’t rain again for some time.”

Neuvillette leads you to the bed, his hand firmly around yours. He is unerringly gentle and patient with you, as he urges you to sit upon the bedcovers - and your breath catches when you do as he asks, and instead of joining you he sinks onto his knees. You have never thought to imagine the Chief Justice kneeling before you, and the sight of it makes you buzz all over in anticipation. He smiles at your unsurety - and leans in, pressing a kiss to your knee, gently urging you to spread your thighs for him. His gloves are stripped away, but his wedding ring gleams on his finger as his fingers sink into the soft, full skin of your thigh. 

He leans in, pressing another kiss to the side of your knee. Higher, higher, higher he trails them - and his breath fans cool against your heated core, and your fingers clench into the bedsheets in surprise at what he might be about to do. 

“Don’t be afraid,” he murmurs to you, his cheek pressing silky against your skin, as he suckles a love-bite into the part where your leg meets your pelvis. “I merely want to ensure you’re adequately prepared.”

“Y-you don’t need to,” you say, breathless, hot, embarrassed and needy all at once. This is an act of such intimacy, you do not know how to parse the thought of the Iudex doing it to you - but he gives you a smile that is not without a hint of fang, the wickedest look you have seen upon his face so far, and he reaches between the two of you to use his thumb to pull apart the lips of your sex so you are revealed to him. 

“Oh,” he breathes. “But I want to, sweet one. And . . . looking at how wet you are for me, I daresay you want me to do so too.”

“M-Monsieur--”

“Neuvillette,” he murmurs, and he presses a kiss directly onto your sex, slick and wet with your own excitement, his nose brushing across the swollen nub of your clit. “Use my name.”

“Neuvillette--” It comes out rather thin and reedy, but Neuvillette does not seem to notice - instead, he seems rather preoccupied by what lies between your thighs. Your fingers tighten when you feel his tongue slide across you, gathering your slick upon the tip. There’s a strange quality to it, almost as if it is longer and firmer than a human tongue ought to be - and as he flickers his tip over your clit, again and again and again, and you shudder from the sensations he draws forth . . . you wonder if, too, his tongue is forked--

Thoughts quickly dissipate from your head when there is a man knelt between your thighs, though, and it is no different for you. The wondering is quickly chased away by the hungry way that Neuvillette laps at you, like a man who has been parched for water for months. 

Through it, he urges you to part your thighs as wide as you can, so that he can more thoroughly attack you with his tongue - and with every stroke, with every suck and lick and groan of him against you, you feel a knot tighten in your stomach in a way you have never experienced. It is like his mouth is a match, setting fire to your core - despite how you can feel wetness dripping down you, onto his bedcovers, surely soaking his chin and his lips. 

He does something with his tongue - a twirl, a flourish - and his name comes spilling out of your lips like a prayer, and the idea that he may at some point stop using his mouth on you flashes across your synapses like a tragedy. Without realising you’re doing it, you move one hand to grip his silvery hair, to keep him anchored against you - you realise, too, that it is not merely his name spilling out of you like an overturned wineglass. Pleas and whimpers and begging have joined the fray, and you would ordinarily cringe at being thought so wanting. But with Neuvillette’s mouth, with the promise of what he is trying to wring from you--

Shame seems unimportant compared to the way he shudders at your hand in his hair, the way his tongue intensifies flicking against your clit. 

He pulls back, breathing heavy, mouth glittering with your slick. 

“I’m going to put a finger inside you,” he tells you, and you are grateful that he too sounds a little breathless. You cannot imagine just how embarrassing it would be to be the only one falling apart. 

“I want . . . you,” you say, not without a touch of petulance, and Neuvillette lets out a hoarse little laugh. Still kneeling before you, he reaches up to touch your warmed face - his thumb, too, glitters with your arousal from the way he had held you open. You cannot bring yourself to care when he softly smears it across your bottom lip like an offering, and he lets out a shuddering groan at the sight of your tongue swiping it off. 

“I want you,” he says. “Oh, you have no idea how much I want you. But I will not hurt you, sweet one. Let me prepare you.”

It feels very much like him; this way of taking charge, his firm words. This time, his hand curves up your inner thigh, and your breath catches as his finger slides between the valley of your sex, wetting itself in your slick and his saliva. Your toes curl into his plush carpet as he nudges your clit with his fingertip, as a soft noise of surprise escapes your mouth and he chuckles. 

He slides one finger inside of you with no resistance at all. His earlier ministrations have seen to that. It’s a strange sensation, to have something inside that is not one of your own fingers (rather smaller, rather shorter than his) - but it is hardly unwelcome. You whisper out his name, your eyes closing, and Neuvillette makes a gentle noise of encouragement. 

“That’s right,” he murmurs to you, as he slowly begins to pump his finger in and out of you. “You’re doing so well - you’re taking it beautifully. I’m going to put a second one in--”

He does exactly as he says, and the hand still knit in his hair tugs at the silvery strands a little harder. It is not that it is painful, but simply that it is a stretch you are unused to - and one, too, that you know will continue to intensify. 

You feel a strange, cool shock at the entrance to your sex - and you chance a glance down and realise it is his wedding ring, pressing against you. The sight and the knowledge makes you shudder, and Neuvillette huffs out a noise of want in return. 

You think of the cocks, straining beneath the vee of Neuvillette’s pelvis. You cannot see them now, but from the way they had looked when the two of you were just bathing, you feel certain they must be swollen stiff and hard, waiting for their own chance (and too, from the spots of colour on Neuvillette’s cheeks, the way his words have a strange, dry edge to them when he speaks). How will he put those inside of you? One at a time? Both at once? 

“What are you thinking about?” Neuvillette asks, raising his gaze to meet your own, a smile tugging at the corners of the lips. “You suddenly tightened around me.” 

“I--!” Your cheeks go hot, embarrassment making warmth seep down your back. Neuvillette laughs. 

“No need to keep secrets,” he murmurs, slowly establishing another rhythm, a slow pump of his two fingers inside of you, scissoring slightly to open you up. “We are married now, sweet one. We can share everything. Mmm . . . let me see. Were you imagining my fingers to be my cock?”

“Neuvillette--” Your voice is a weak little protest, and you avert your gaze shyly even as you force the words out. “I was . . . will you put them both inside of me?” Your gaze slips over his face again, nervous to see his reaction - his eyes widen in surprise, but it is not at all a look of anger. 

“Not tonight,” he tells you, and he smiles again. “I fear it may be too much for you. Ah, but if that’s what you want . . . my dear, I know you’d feel exquisite.” 

His fingers, pumping in and out, curling inside of you. His words, velvet-draped and deep - the look of concentration on his face, insistent on nothing more than drawing pleasure forward from you. You feel the hot tension inside of you reach a breaking point - a pot, ready to bubble over. 

“I must confess,” he breathes, leaning in, breath hitting your sex hot and close. “I was worried you might be afraid. I’m terribly glad to know what an effect the idea has on you.”

As he finishes the sentence, he lets his tongue drag out one slow, final lap of your clit - and it is just enough to push you over the final edge. The bubbling pot within you reaches boiling point - and the most intense pleasure you’ve ever felt, like molten heat, suffuses you entirely. Your head falls back. A noise of sheer enjoyment falls wanton from your lips - your thighs and your hips and your entire body trembles and shakes in the pleasure, and you feel your sex pulsating and throbbing around the two of Neuvillette’s fingers that are inside of you. 

“Lovely,” Neuvillette murmurs, watching you in awe, his fingers slowing down as he lets you ride out the waves of your orgasm. “Oh, you’re . . . exquisite.”

“Neuvillette,” you say, collapsing back onto the bed, your breath coming in harsh pants. “I was afraid, at first. But I don’t think I could be. Not knowing what you’re like now. Not anymore.”

“Sweet thing.” Neuvillette stands. He steps forward and you see him again - his cocks are indeed straining, silvery precome dripping from the dual tips and smeared over the flat planes of his stomach. “You have no idea what you do to me. May I . . . ?” 

He does not need to ask. You think you would grant him whatever he asked for - you cannot imagine Neuvillette overstepping your boundaries, when he has been so sweet and so careful and so guiding for as long as you’ve known him, even knowing he could do whatever he wanted to you and nobody would blame him. But it warms your heart that he asks even so. 

“Please do,” you breathe, and you spread your thighs wider to accommodate him on the bed. 

His hands scoop under your hips, his palms firm on your ass as he moves you higher up the bed, ensuring that your head and shoulders are propped up with a mound of pillows. Even with his cocks practically twitching, he prioritises you before himself, and you cannot resist another show of appreciation, wrapping your hand around his neck and pulling him down into a kiss. 

He groans into your mouth, the movement clearly welcome - but when he mouths at you now, he is far messier than he has been before, his teeth just a little more present. You think he must be losing some of his control, and as his cocks nudge against your inner thighs, you are proved correct. 

“I’m sorry,” he breathes against your lips, pulling back just far enough to be able to speak. “I cannot hold myself back a moment longer--”

“Please, Neuvillette,” you whisper, fingers still in his hair. 

His lower cock nudges against your sex, the ring of muscle that will grant him entrance - and as he opens you up, his second cock rubs over the swollen over-sensitive nub of your clit and you whine. 

He covers your whine with another kiss. He eases into you, moment by moment, inch by inch - you have nothing to compare it to, but you think from the slow tempo he goes at and the way his gaze keeps flicking over you, checking you’re alright, he must be larger than average. 

But he has prepared you well. The stretch is an ache, but a pleasant one - it does not send painful shockwaves all through you. Your thighs wrap around his hips, pulling him as close as you can manage, and Neuvillette sighs. 

“Will you kiss me again?” He murmurs, so softly you almost do not hear him. The request makes your heart feel like bursting in your chest - the soft way he looks at you, his unwillingness to pull away from you, his desire to be as close to you as he can even when he is buried inside of you. 

You do. Arms wrap around his shoulders. His hands find purchase on your hips. His mouth and yours dance against one another - his tongue learning yours as if he is learning a new language. 

He fucks you like that. 

He is not rough with you, that first night; he does not, as you have heard so many new husbands do, take you and have you and ignore what you might want. Neuvillette cherishes you. 

The slow rock of his hips, indulgent in their rhythm. The way he kisses you. He is chasing his own release, but he does not feel any need to fuck into you with abandon. At least not yet. 

But time ticks on. The two of you seem to meld into one entity, and the kissing and the fucking grows sharper at the edges. You feel that Neuvillette is hovering on something, his expression almost desperate, as he rearranges the angle of his hips and the speed of his thrusts. 

“Please,” he whispers, broken-voiced. “I’m close--”

You let go of him and he lets out a noise of distress at the lack of contact, a noise that makes you shiver with the idea of how much power you may one day have over him. But instead of anything else, one of your hands darts between you, to take a firm grip on his second cock. Neuvillette hisses through his teeth at your hand, hot and firm. 

You do not know what you’re doing, not really, but that does not seem to bother Neuvillette as he increases the speed of his hips. In fact, he does most of the work - fucking his lower cock inside of you, hot and deep and wet, and fucking the cock atop it into your fist. You manage to work out a kind of twisting motion that makes him growl in the back of his throat--

It’s a fascinating noise, really. It makes you think of him as an animal, something feral and possessive - and you wonder what, later on, you may learn about him--

But then your name is falling from his lips like a prayer, and his cock is twitching inside of you and in your grip, and your back arches at the same time as he leans forward and sinks his teeth into your shoulder--

(Almost like a claiming bite. Almost like a mark to say that you are his). 

And both of you come, together, in great waves and pants and gasps of breath. His come paints your fist and the round softness of your stomach at the same time as it paints inside of you, your body once more pulsating around his cock as if it never wants to let you go. 

Like a tide on the shore; like a moon rising high over the lakes of Fontaine. Neuvillette lets himself lay atop of you, his head against your heart, his breath coming in great heaves. 

You do not need to think this time; you simply lift your unsoiled hand and begin to stroke the silver of his hair in slow, careful motions. From the back of his throat again comes that noise, something like a purr and something like a chirrup. His eyes close contentedly. 

“Neuvillette?” You whisper into the darkness, and your husband makes a soft ‘mm?’ of response. “You really . . . could have had anyone. Why did you choose me?”

“Hmm, sweet one?” He lifts his head from your chest and looks down at you like you have asked him why the sky is blue. “Didn’t you hear me earlier? I certainly did have my pick . . . I perhaps wouldn’t have chosen to marry if Lady Furina hadn’t been so insistent, but I was lucky enough to be able to choose anybody I wanted. And I had seen you.” He shakes his head, a huff of laughter falling from his mouth. “Like I said - I do have eyes.”

Your cheeks feel hot. The thought of being coveted by Monsieur Neuvillette, when you had worried about your body and your match and your future so often it felt like second nature--

“Oh dear,” he says, looking down at the two of you - at the sweat-slicked hair, at the come drying on your inner thigh. “I fear we’ll need to have another bath before bed.” 

“And you won’t mind if I join you?”

He chuckles. 

“Why,” he says. “I’d be offended if you didn’t.”

[envy-of-the-apple]

Total Care

Dark!Illumi Zoldyck x reader

18+ content

This was a request....that i accidentally deleted...sorry anon!

(Dark Content, Dubious consent, forced masturbation, voyeurism, implied kidnapping)

One of the more aggravating things about Illumi's personality is his attentiveness.

You eat three times a day. You sleep for exactly 9 hours. You get sunlight, time to move around. Physically, you're well-taken care of, curtesy of your diligent captor.

Even pleasure was moderated by him.

"Well?" You cringe at his voice. You still refused to look at Illumi. Looking would make it even worse.

You fought the first time he crawled into bed with you. The second, third, and fourth time too. Your orgasms were always inevitable.

Sex is very important for your health, he'd often say after the 'session'. Like he was being altruistic about fucking you. Like you were the crazy one for resisting when he pinned you down with superhuman strength, making you cum on his fingers, his tongue, his cock.

You don't fight as much these days, but you still make excuses, 'Illumi, not tonight', 'Illumi I'm tired', 'Illumi please-'

To your surprise, he relented at that.

He pulls back, staring at you with eyes that died lifetimes ago. Or maybe they were never alive in the first place.

"You aren't satisfied with the sex," he says, always blunt, always straight to the point.

You don't answer. Saying anything he wanted you to say would be a lie so you keep your mouth shut and pray that this won't accelerate to something violent.

Still, nothing could compare you to what he says next.

"Fine. You do it, then."

That phrase brought you to your current predicament: With you on the rumpled bed far too big for just two. With Illumi sitting on a chair, legs elegantly crossed.

He's so pretty. Even in his worst moments, despite your fear, you could never convince yourself otherwise. Tall. Shiny hair, long and black. A slender shape that's surprisingly well-built. An angular jaw.

He reminds you of a carnivorous plant. They use their sweet nectar to distract flies from their voracious appetite. It makes you wonder if Illumi is using the same trick on you.

You still have your clothes on, but you feel just as naked underneath his gaze as you cower on the bed. His eyes are stripping, bleach that burns your skin. You shift the blankets closer, but you don't cover your body. Illumi hates it when you hide from him.

You know what he wants you to do. You just can't bring yourself to. Hands hover over your shirt, twitching and waiting.

Illumi, as always, picks up on your hesitance.

"Or, I'd be glad to-"

"No." You reel yourself in, sucking in a dry breath, "I'll-I'll do it."

Because anything is better than him touching you. Raking sharp nails over your soft skin. His teeth.

Anything is better. Even this, you try to convince yourself.

When your fingers hesitantly trail toward your covered cunt, he clicks his tongue.

"Take it off," Illumi demands, "I need to see that you're doing it right."

You shudder at his words, but you comply because anything is better.

You should be used to being naked around him. You don't think you ever will. Even if one day, when your mind is obedient to him, your nerves will never forget.

It's not cold, but you still shiver when you hike up your nightgown, right up to your stomach. He's clearly displeased that you don't take it off, but he doesn't say anything about it. Your panties come next. You roll them off your legs, bunching them right by the blankets.

"Spread your legs." Illumi's voice is back to that monotone lilt. You do as he says, widening the gap a little. When he gives a disapproving scoff, you spread them a little more, fully showing your bare cunt.

It's already humiliating, with you half-naked and him fully clothed, but his sheer nonchalance made it even worse. He looked the same, eyeing your body with a blank stare. It was far worse than a punishment.

He gives a wordless nod. You swallow, and then you can't maintain the eye-contact anymore. It's better to pretend that it's just you. It's better to just look down, ignore his stare.

You're already wet. Your body has gotten used to his touches. Your clit is already sensitive. You jolt when you touch it.

It's something familiar. You've done this before. Months ago, before you woke up in this cold mansion, a large empty room. When you were at home (your real home), with a toy that sank into you just right. Illumi didn't provide such luxuries.

You force yourself to drift off, squeezing your eyes tight, thinking about anything else. A hot celebrity, your ex, or just no one at all. You rub your clit faster as your body responds. Your hips twitch, your walls squeeze around nothing.

But he's watching. And it's too much—it's too much—

You stop, breaking down into humiliated sobs. It's enough to make him draw closer. In an instant, he's right there, enveloping you underneath him.

"Don't you see?" He coos, enveloping you within his arms. "You couldn't do it, by yourself, could you?"

He doesn't even give you the luxury to disagree. You find yourself nestled within his grip. His cold fingers replace your own. A long finger sinks into your clenching pussy. A thumb rubs circles on your swollen clit.

You come like that, hiding in his arms, no longer having to see your own debauchery. He gives a soft kiss on your hairline, kind enough to let you ride his fingers.

"You need me, my love," he says. He almost sounds kind.

His smile digs into the top of your head.

"You need me for everything."

[slutt4ellie]

Fated Hearts Start With Fire

PT2 - Unforeseen Harmony

PART 1

Moving to a new city is tough, but it’s even harder when your roommate is a dick.

Summery - After moving in you find yourself distracted on why your roommate has this very prominent dislike when it comes to you?

Warnings -> Same mean Ellie / Reader is also rude / Alcohol usage / Mentions of previous relationships / Girl flirts with reader 🫣 / Jealousy (if u squint idk) / Slow burn!! / Toxic relationship /kissing / (Lmk if I missed anything else!)

WC : 4.4k

(Not proofread)

DAILY CLICK 🇵🇸 - (takes a few seconds!)

Fuck.

To say living with Ellie is “Hell”, that would be an understatement!

The whole interaction with her the day after she came home completely plastered, the one where she said you looked “shitty”, that was about 3 and a half weeks ago.

You didn’t even understand what the actual fuck was wrong with her! And sure that seems mean, you knew how it sounded! But she’s probably the most unreasonable person you’ve ever met.

She’d get pissed if you got up to early for your classes because the moving of you just simply walking “Woke her up!”

She constantly takes your food, drinks, snacks, whatever. Basically everything that was in the fridge, and purchased by you, also now happened to be hers!

And every time you brought up how it was rude or disrespectful she’d shut it down! Saying something along the lines of “While I lived here first!”

Living in a place that was completely foreign to you, and having the worst possible fucking roommate unsurprisingly didn’t mix well!

It also didn’t help you had a grand total of 0 friends. You were shit at small talk and conversations, that was nothing new.

But then again you also knew staying in your shared apartment with Ellie. That wasn’t something you could deal with much longer, you just had to suck it up and talk to literally anyone except for fucking her.

So that’s what you did.

Walking to class was alright, the cold air hitting the back of your neck was extremely apparent but you sucked it up.

The sun was still struggling to make it past the clouds but to be fair it was the least of your concerns, because as of now you were making some genius plan to make some friends..!

You had Jess and Alex who are great. You wouldn’t trade them for the world. But even they knew you had to get out there more.

At least that’s what they’ve been texting you all morning. Stuff along the lines of “You got this!” and “Just try not to panic”

So you kept that plastered in the front of your mind as you continued to walk down the campus trail, there was music blasting in your ears, trying to come up with conversation starters till there was a slight tap on your shoulder.

A girl, she was taller then you, had brunette hair, blue eyes, and a tiny smile on her face.

Her hand slightly moves signalling you to basically take out your headphones which you complied. You assumed it was already weird that you were staring at her for at least 5 seconds.

She spoke softly. “Hi..!” You just give her a smile back, thinking something along the lines of “Who the fuck is this??”.

“H-Hi?” You stuttered out a confused tone leaking which she clearly picked up on because she followed by saying. “I’m super fucking lost right now and you seemed approachable!” She chuckles letting out a quick “I’m a transfer student, and my class is 182..? Do you mind?” She holds out her map which shows the campus.

This leads you to quickly smile back. “Shit, I’m 182 as well. I can just walk you if you want?”

This has her immediately nod and you see the relief all over her face. “Fuck, thank you. I have no clue how to read paper maps”

“No?” You smile at her words and she follows up by shaking her head.

“Never thought I’d be in this situation, so no!” She smiles at you, causing you go stumble over your words.

“I-I uh didn’t get your name?“ You choke out.

“Fuck right! Mia, sorry!“ Mia smiles holding out her hand to shake.

You hold out your hand and shake it back. Quickly telling her your name.

༻♡︎༺

You learned that apparently during Mia’s transfer, the papers got all mixed up, which is now leading her 3 weeks after the term had started.

You and her quickly found yourselves sat beside each other during the whole lecture. (Which you hardly followed since you guys were talking a shit ton.)

And by the time it finished she didn’t hesitate to get your number, she was definitely way more bold then you..

You couldn’t tell if Mia was being simply platonic or if maybe she was trying to flirt?

You were sorta bad at signals and so when she asked you to do homework today, specifically together, quickly calling it a “Date!” you decided to deem it as non-platonic.

So here you are now walking back to your apartment shoulder to shoulder, talking about school, friends, where you both grew up, shit like that. Really just getting to know each other during the walk

It didn’t take long till you reached your apartment fumbling over the key hole as you unlocked it giving Mia a clear view of the auburn sat on your couch.

When Mia sees Ellie sat on the couch she quickly talks “Oh is she your?-“

You assumed Mia was going to finish off the sentence with “girlfriend” which had you almost shout out a quick no, because Ellie. Gross.

But! You decided as a calmer approach “No!- No we’re roommates! I- It was like an ad and shit so..”

Mia then smiles and nods looking straight at your. “Okay cool!”

Did Mia care if you had girlfriend??

But before you could even fucking talk, Ellie turns around, this makes you assume she was probably going to the kitchen, but as soon as her green eyes hit Mia’s then yours she just sorta stops. Spitting out a harsh.

“People are desperate now!” Ellie chuckles continuing to pick up where she left off and walking to the kitchen. Grabbing a few snacks.

Your eyes land on the side profile of Mia’s, her eyebrows are furrowed, she knew the comment was directed towards you. Because Ellie’s eyes stayed on you when she said it.

Mia was about to say something but you quickly grab her hand intertwining your fingers with hers.

You’ve never had a girlfriend. You didn’t know if this was normal to even do considering you and Mia were probably the furthest from dating, but you just wanted to draw her attention off of someone like Ellie.

You got the impression Ellie wouldn’t turn down a fight, which see showed with you, and those just all happened to be verbal.

You didn’t exactly want to see what the fuck would happen if Ellie got into a physical fight. Especially not with a girl which is showing at least some interest in you?

Mia’s eyebrows drop, no longer furrowed, and you see a pink rise to her cheeks.

You clear your throat, because now you’re nervous having you hand intertwined with Mia’s. So you quickly disconnect the both of your hands before talking to her..

“We can uh-my room is just over her” You point and quickly lead Mia to your room avoiding Ellie’s gaze purposefully.

You open your bedroom door, you and Mia instantly stepping into your now properly decorated bedroom.

Having a bed which you lacked just 3 weeks ago.

Mia finds herself on your bed dropping her bag on the side of the frame. She scoots back pushing her back against the headboard.

She quickly started up conversations which you grazed over considering you now have a fucking person in your room. On your bed!

“Your room’s pretty” Mia smiles

“T-thank you!” You smile looking at her finally being able to bare proper eye contact “If you came her 3 weeks ago we would have been on the floor”

Mia laughs and let’s out a “Why??”

“I had no fucking bed! Since I travelled so far, they were losers and didn’t want me bringing my queen bed on the plane?” You chuckle obviously joking which prompts a laugh from Mia.

“Seems lame” Mia smiles and you finally sit beside her on the bed.

“Super lameeee” You drag out your “e” which now left you feeling super fucking lame, it made you cringe at yourself which you tried to laugh off.

Mia smiles and chuckles, grabbing her laptop which she conveniently already took out of her bag. “I don’t wanna do all this fucking work” Mia looks at you having the blood rush straight up to your cheeks.

“Y-yeah no me neither, I already have like 3 things I gotta work on.” You chuckle looking back at her.

Mia had almost 0 problem having her eyes glance down to your lips. Yet you fucking did.

I mean sure you obviously wanted her to kiss you but you had no fucking knowledge on what to do? But before you could even think about it, Mia’s lips find themselves right on yours holding your cheek softly.

You immediately respond kissing her back having your eyes roll to the back of your head.

You were really just hoping your doing it right, but considering she’s not pulling back, you sorta come to the consensus it’s good enough!

You felt Mia’s tongue invite itself inside your mouth, her kisses now leaving and moving to your jaw and neck.

To say you were now just a bit nervous would be an understatement!

You obviously fucking liked Mia? You’d be dumb to not? But to be fair you didn’t even fucking know her middle name? Or really to much shit about her.

You didn’t know what this was? Like what if she just wants to hook up or something..! You obviously didn’t want that??

And she had to feel something was off because she pulls back her eyes now falling onto your face studying your face trying to read it. Quickly noticing how your eyes are planted on the ceiling.

“You okay..?” Mia ask having her hands drop from the back of your neck to your arms.

You didn’t even notice her lips where off your neck and jaw since you were doing your best to just disassociate.

“Hey..” Mia sits more up now her eyes meeting yours.

“W-what?” You stutter quickly swallowing the lump in your throat.

“You okay?” Mia says her eyes not leaving your face making sure she didn’t make you uncomfortable and accidentally do something wrong.

“Fuck- was I reading it wrong??” Mia ask, now starting to panic thinking she just kissed a straight girl or something?

“N-no! No! Fuck- no i’m sorry I just, I- I haven’t done this.??” You say spitting out not wanting Mia to leave or something.

“Like what? Shit with a girl” Mia says.

“At all.” You say really trying to have this justify and explain to her why the fuck you were practically tweaking out just from getting kissed.

“O-oh?” Mia says it surprised, now slowly fixing your shirt feeling bad. “Fuck i’m sorry”

Mia looks at you “I-if I knew I wouldn’t have like gone so fucking” Mia try’s to explain with her hands which failed causing you both to laugh.

“I-no your good. I just like- maybe slower.” you say looking at Mia thinking she’s gonna laugh. Not a lot of people go “slow” now, and you knew that.

“Slowwww” Mia smiles dragging out her words before softly kissing you again now not doing anything crazy like tongue, literally just kissing you.

༻♡︎༺

That was a crazy as it got. Literally just kissing which you appreciated. It also didn’t take long before the sky turned dark and Mia had to leave, you walked her out, kissed before she left and everything felt insanely intimate.

But just like in Ellie fashion she always had a whole lot to say. You hardly noticed her before she talked.

“I meant what I said by the way! Didn’t realize people were so fucking desperate” Ellie slightly laughs her hair falling over her face which she promptly moves.

You just look at her. “The fuck is your issue Ellie.” You say trying to shrug off her comments but it just doesn’t work.

“I don’t have a fucking issue, just think anyone would have to be insanely fucking desperate to go out with you, that’s all?” Her stupid fucking laugh echos your shared apartment.

“You always have a lot to say.” And you don’t even know what made you say the next sentence considering you knew hardly nothing about the situation. You had a lead, an idea of what it was so you took it.

“What happened with Cat Ellie? Dina and Jesse brought it up, fuck did she leave because of how fucking annoying you are or?”

It didn’t take long till her face dropped the smug smirk no longer planted on her face.

Guilt stuck you hard. Sure you didn’t like Ellie but the fact her eyes are glazing over, just from one fucking sentence means you probably crossed a line.

I mean was it fair she could say all this shit about you with nothing in return. Obviously no?

But then again you didn’t know what actually happened with this Cat? You knew it was some sorta “situation” at least that’s how Jesse worded it a few weeks ago. But then again it wasn’t your place to bring it up.

“Fuck you.” Ellie’s voice chokes up for the first time in god knows how long. She turns around. So clearly the Cat thing is personal! You quickly thought to yourself!

“Ellie..” You follow and she turns around and pushes you, which almost has you fall straight back.

“Fuck off!” Ellie says her voice now stern, fist clenching at her sides.

There was no doubt she was probably going to punch you, but luckily there was a knock on your guys door.

“Ellie let us innnnn!” Dina’s cheerful voice comes through the door.

Almost immediately Ellie walks over shoving you, in the process her shoulder comes slamming against yours which almost causes you to fall back.

You hear the door open and a pair of footsteps enter. Ellie doesn’t even bother to great them.

“Okayy? Rude” Dina chuckles thinking it’s just Ellie being Ellie.

But when Ellie also glances past her and sits on the couch. Dina starts to get a weird vibe.

Dina slowly turns her body towards you “Hey!”

You don’t even know what to reply with. You just let out a slight “Hi.”

Dina tilts her head, her eyes glancing from you back to Ellie. Both of your eyes seem heavy. Jesse quickly puts down alcohol and snacks on the kitchen counter.

Quickly Finding himself beside Ellie on the couch which she quickly shoves over to the furthest cushion, being the possible furthest away from him. Hardly matters though because she stands up. “The fuck?”

He mutters looking at Ellie’s body slowly leaving, trailing to her room.

“What happened” Dina says both her eyes flat on you.

“I-I brought up Cat.” You mutter out.

Just by the fact Dina’s eyes trail straight to Jesse and Jesse immediately stands up walking down the hall “Imma check on her”

Dina nods and looks back at you once again. “What’d you say…?” Dina’s tone is stern, her cheerful tone now lacking. She’s literally just trying to figure out what happened.

“I-I just, she was being m-mean to mi-mia and me-“ You try and spit out but Dina cuts you off clearly not trying to hear about someone she literally doesn’t know.

“Just what did you say!” Dina says fully over the rambling, she knows whatever the fuck you said must be bad because Jesse is still trying to get into Ellie’s room.

“I-I just said something like ‘did Cat leave you because you’re annoying’! I didn’t- I didn’t except shit. Like I didn’t except it to actually strike a nerve??” You quickly say looking down embarrassed of your words. “I brought yours and Jesses name up accidentally, I swear!” You quickly add.

“Shit..” Dina sighs rubbing her hand down her face letting out a groan. You don’t know the story and Dina’s trying to remember that.

Dina was about to talk more but you quickly cut her off. “I swear I didn’t- I didn’t except her to freak?”

Dina shakes her head. “You don’t know the story. Okay.”

You don’t even know why you care. I mean Ellie’s a dick, she’s been for the past 3 weeks. But you never wanted to actually hurt her? You wouldn’t consider yourself “mean”. But as much as you convince yourself you no longer seems if you care you just spit out.

“I- then tell me..the story?” You say.

2 months earlier.

(Ellie)

“Ellie” Dina says laying on Ellie’s bed looking at her.

Ellie’s spacing out looking at her celling.

“El!” Dina says a bit louder sitting up waving her hand over Ellie’s face having Ellie quickly snap out of it.

“Fuck yeah” Ellie says her voice cracking trying to form a smile which feels all to fucking forced..

“We should go out tonight. You know get out of the apartment that has Cat in it.” Dina says looking at Ellie’s facial expression. The idea seems uncomfortable. Going out without Cat at this point felt foreign...just weird…

“I don’t know.” Ellie fiddles with her hands instead of facing Dina’s brown eyes which feel like they’re piercing into her thoughts right now.

“It’s a break. I mean I could invite her?” Ellie suggest looking at Dina almost like she wants approval.

Dina knows the idea probably isn’t smart but she sorta shrugs. After all it’s just a break. Not a breakup.

“Yeah! I can bring Jesse too” Dina smiles suggesting looking at Ellie.

Ellie’s eyes finally light up like they used to.

“I’ll ask then!” Ellie quickly stands up smiling at Dina before leaving her bedroom which just a few nights ago, had Cat still sleeping in it.

—————————

The argument between Cat and Ellie was stupid. Ellie and Cat wanted to go do something special for their 1st year anniversary. They had an idea to go somewhere special, like a foreign country or something. Just to get out, spend quality time. Shit like that.

Then the first problem came. Ellie and Cat had two very fucking different budgets. Ellie has lived in New York for a bit and had a stable job.

A type of job she could live off of.

Then Cat. Cat definitely had a better job, she wasn’t shy to bring it up either, quickly pointing out all the places Ellie could realistically afford were “shitty” and “gross” instantly forming a fight.

“Why do you act like i’m not trying?” Ellie says looking at Cat tears already brewing on her lower eyelid..

“I’m not acting like anything Ellie?” Cat says scoffing sarcastically. Almost like she’s blaming Ellie. “I just think your job clearly isn’t paying enough.”

“Doesn’t it matter we’re going together?” Ellie says looking at back at Cat now standing up.

Cat follows up by standing in front of Ellie. “Ellie don’t pull that shit!” Cats tone is getting louder and she shakes her head fast.

“I’m not pulling anything! You’re acting like me not being able to afford places that are 700+ dollars is like i’m purposefully doing this!” Ellie’s tone is also getting but it has more cracks rather then Cats.

“Okay Ellie.” Cat says sarcastically just rolling her eyes, grabbing her bag.

Ellies eyes are shifting from Cats hands, to the clothes she’s grabbing, and back to the bag. “W-where are you going?”

Cat sighs and shakes her head. “I just want space. I’m gonna stay at a friends tonight.”

Ellies almost baffled. Confusion is flowing all throughout her brain. “Why?” Ellies eyes again are glossy. ‘this isn’t a breakup, this isn’t a breakup, this isn’t a breakup.’

“We clearly fucking need a break Ellie!” Cats words echo throughout Ellies brain..

“W-“ But before Ellie could even finish her sentence a slam of the front door rings Ellie’s ears and she’s now left alone in their shared bedroom.

—————————

Even though Dina thought it was stupid Ellie was shoulder to shoulder with Cat as they stand outside in the alley, which the club is left of.

Ellie’s eyes are the brightest they’ve been since that day. So even if Dina thinks Ellie even talking to Cat after the fight was dumb, if Ellie’s happy. That’s what matters.

The reason they were all outside the alleyway of the club is because Jesse is the only 21 year old in their whole group so he had let them all in through the back.

And as soon as the door opened and the music poured out Dina, Ellie, and Cat all entered.

It really didn’t take long till they were all drunk, they easily got served so they got loaded up fast with shots, the whole group downing them in mere minutes.

Ellie was enjoying her night, at the end of the day she was with Cat?

The girl she loved no matter what..

“I’m gonna go get us drinks!” Cat says talking into Ellie’s ear so she can hear over the loud music.

Ellie quickly gives Cat and thumbs up and a slight smile. “Okay!”

10 minutes go by, still no cat.

it’s been 10 minutes since Cats been gone, Ellie now just wants to make sure Cats okay? It shouldn’t take that long yet it was?

Ellie quickly taps Dina’s shoulder as she dances with Jesse. And leans into her ear “I’m gonna go find Cat! She’s been gone a bit!” Ellie says and Dina nods responding with a quick.

“Want me to come?” Dina smiles looking at Ellie.

Ellie shakes her head and smiles point at Jesse. “Nah! Enjoy dancing!”

Dina chuckle and nods watching as Ellie disappears in the crowd.

Ellie is pushing through a few bodies not seeing anyone who represents Cat getting drinks. Her eyes are scanning all over debating whether or not she should check inside the washrooms?

Until she sees Cats head in the middle of the dance floor. “Cat!” Ellie yells smiling until she sees it. Her voice falls short and her smile fades.

Cats kissing another girl.

Ellie’s whole face turns pale and she gets hit with a wave a nausea that hits her like a brick.

Everything goes in a fucking blur. Ellie’s shoving through a shit ton of bodies. Tears streaming.

The scene is..ugly..

But she’s been dating Cat for almost a year. All of it, it’s down the drain in the matter of seconds. Ellie’s hands are shaking as she pushes the alleyway door open quickly trying to calm the fuck down.

Ellie sits down on the ground her chest falling up and down as her vision blurs. Black spots are appearing in her eyes and she feels like she can hardly breath.

It doesn’t take long till she can hear Dina’s muffled voice. “Jesse! She’s out here!” Dina says crouching down rubbing Ellie’s back.

Ellie assumes she hit Dina on the way out since she was so fast to find her. Ellie’s having a full blown panic attack and it’s not going away.

Jesse also crouches down beside Dina, reaching his arm on Ellie’s shoulder asking Dina if she saw what even happened.

Dina continues telling Ellie to breath. She softly rest Ellie’s hand above her chest to follow her own breathing pattern. “Ellie in…and out”

Dina looks at Jesse. “Wanna get her some water.”

Jesse quickly nods running over to the convenience store which is across the street.

As soon as Jesses leaves, Dina looks at Ellie. “Ellie what happened.”

The sparkle which was in Ellie’s eyes during the beginning of the night is now gone. And she just shakes her head. “Cat kissed some girl. I saw her while-while it was happening.”

Ellie try’s to clear her throat, a cover to stop the tears that are threatening to spill from her eyes again.

After that night Ellie didn’t want to feel.

So she made the decision she was done with trying to feel.

Present

(You)

“Fuck.” You sigh now realizing how much you fucked up. You brought up a situation you knew literally nothing about and probably just gave Ellie new fresh wounds which were probably just healing. “I thought the girl who moved out went back to her hometown or something, It was Cat though..?”

“She probably didn’t feel like explaining it” Dina let’s out a dry chuckle which is to cover how fucked the whole situation is.

“Listen it’s not your fault.” Dina sighs shaking her head.

“You didn’t know?” Dina tilts her head her eyes finally meeting yours.. “Trust me I know Ellie can be a dick.” Dina says rubbing your shoulder, she doesn’t want you to feel guilty.

“Give her time to ease up” Dina nods trying to reassure you her behaviour will be better.

“I’ve gave her 3 fucking weeks?” You say. Almost all your sympathy leaving your body once again. Sure you wanted to feel bad for Ellie? But she’s mean all the fucking time.

What happened to her unfortunately doesn’t excuse that.

“I feel bad, a-and I get what happened to her isn’t fair. I know it wasn’t right for me to say what I did, but it’s also not fair for her to take it out on me Dina.” You say looking at Dina and Dina’s head drops.

“I’ve been friends with Ellie since freshman year. I swear to you she’s only ever fucking been like this these last 2 months.” Dina says, it’s like she’s trying to convince you that Ellie’s not a complete dick. Which you’re finding hard to believe.

Just as you were about to speak. Ellie walks out of her bedroom with Jesse. She looks straight at Dina then you, for the first time in fucking weeks Ellie doesn’t go straight to insulting you.

You can tell by the fact her eyes are now red she’s obviously been crying. You’ve never seen vulnerable before. Never with red eyes, her nose still sniffling, the outer area of her eyes still wet, you haven’t ever seen Ellie like this..

You didn’t say anything considering you couldn’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy since you were 100% the cause to her crying.

Your eyes follow Dina as you see her step forward and just hug Ellie. Ellie doesn’t push back or refuse. She just wraps her arms back around Dina.

Ellie’s face goes in Dina’s neck and it’s like a different version of Ellie.

Not like the version you’ve constantly been seeing.

You’ve seen Ellie like this before, it was when she was sleeping on the couch after coming home drunk with Dina and Jesse..

A version of her which was calm and real. Not someone behind a dark, mad, rude, persona. Probably the Ellie before Cat decided to fuck her up.

The Ellie which felt.

A/N -> Part 2 is here!!

I really hope you enjoyed reading this chapter, because I did actually enjoy writing this! I already have a full plot lay out for the 3 part so except that maybe next week. (don’t hold me to that 😭)

I’m gonna shift from a bit of the angst because I feel like i’m sorta shit at writing it, idkkkk!

I’m still super busy with school but so far my work load has been going down a bit, so I plan to work on obviously my other fics while still prioritizing this one! (Because I plan 5-6 parts)

That’s all! Ty again for reading likes and reblogs are really appreciated! 🫶🏽

Taglist - @a-little-bit-of-everybody @bready101 @shiimer @boobdrug @amberputh

[aestheteangel]

Synastry aspects that I personally don’t like.

before i start please read that I am not an official astrologer so take this with a grain of saltttt too haha. Just for fun.

North node square north node ( I’m sorry but each one lives in a whole different worlds, completely different perspectives, mindset, somehow not letting each other move to the next step)

Chiron in 7th house overlay. ( now Chiron isn’t always bad, but there’s kind of.. pain it gives , it’s not any better in other houses, but I’m saying romantically, there could be hurt during the marriage... if you want Chiron overlays in synastry please lmk)

Pluto/Uranus in 12th house overlay. ( now Mose of y’all know 12th house overlays arent so good eventually, but i think Pluto or Uranus being there could be harsher than any other planet , could indicate so many things, one of them unpleasant endings in the relationship, finding truth about something suddenly, betrayal..in worst cases you won’t be able to forget each other )

Saturn 8th house overlay. (Sure y’all know why..)

Mars conjuct Mc/10th house. ( uhhhh it just don’t give me nice vibes when both are seen in public eye. Could be arguing in public a lot, the mars person makes it hard for the 10th person to forgive them. Works even in composite chart )

Mercury square Saturn. ( a lot of judgements and misunderstandings)

Chiron opposite asc/Venus.

Saturn opposite Neptune. (Broo)

Moon opposite moon. (Now tbh Im not really sure of this one since nobody complained about it and it could indicate “slight” emotional understanding difficulties with each other that can also cause attraction. But I’ve seen this aspect with some couple that really can’t stop hurting eachothers emotionally . )

Another moon aspect, ofc moon is the first thing you should observe In synastry s, it simply represents how each other’s emotions play with the other. now moon square moon. Obviously most of y’all know why, literally each one is on different page when it comes to how they view emotions which makes it pretty hard to understand each other’s feelings with the square aspect. ( believe it or no I have this one with my man, even knowing it I’m still with him lol. yes the attraction is definitely there due to other loving aspects and also with this one, it gives attractive energy yes. but still, he don’t understand my emotions and my point of view, struggles with analyzing me sometimes or what I even think , even when I try my best to throw him an obvious sign about something, without me speaking, he don’t get it where everyone else does same goes for me 🤣😭. he sometimes thinks I mean something the opposite of what I meant. Bottom line is with this aspect you need to speak each other’s feelings and what you want to tell the other cause it’s way too impossible to understand eachother with no words spoken. 😓 AAAA THIS IS THE ONLY STRUGGLING PLACEMENT WE HAVE AND ITS NOT EVEN A SIMPLE ONE)

Mars in 5th house, ( Now this is NOT a red flag, bUTTTT i always read about this placement represents a “not lasting relationship “ and tbh every fling I had I had this placement with, literallyyyy very guy I used to dm or talk to even for a couple of days, attraction at first but then boom, you din yourself not talking to them anymore for god knows what reason lol, so there’s something interesting about this placement. 🤔🤣 ( pink for flings 🤣)

Mars 1st house.... ( uhh you know what? Wait for part 2 😛 )

But before part 2 I’ll make my next post positive I promise, I didn’t even want to write red flags placements because it shouldnt be taken seriously haha. So next post will be about .. hmm wait , what you guys want it to be about?

Synastry observations

Natal chart observations

composite observations

Solar return observations

— Y’all literally if u find one of these placements in your synastrys it’s totally okay lol, I have multiple of these w my man and tbh some of them don’t really play this negative way for us, but i just did them for fun , ofc don’t take these TOO seriously 🥰

[thevulturesquadron]

can i request a rogue and Magneto scene

hold my beer! 🧃

If anything, thank you for asking! It's so nice to see people show more interest in the pair since the new animation came out! There is enough space for everyone in this bubbling cauldron of feels for them so join me, let's marinate together! 💜

While I still prefer their Savage Land encounter in the comics over the animation, I think the new series managed to give a good spin of how they met in the 'Age of Apocalypse' universe.

As for this particular line, the way I see it, it's meant to explain that they were both in a place where their attraction and feelings for each other were not enough to sustain a healthy relationship, and that they both acknowledged it. 

Magneto was haunted by his own past. In that shot he is shown dealing with clear signs of ptsd: he's probably having nightmares about the concentration camps, about losing Magda, about losing family. And if we know anything about Magneto is that his anger and pain, his thirst for punishing those that wronged him are a real blocker on the path to his own healing. He refuses to let go of his demons, of his hate because it’s what fuels him and because it's the only way in which he knows how to function. He learned a couple of lessons from his oppressors and he internalised them.

That is what Rogue starts to notice after a while and one scene (a kinder one where he is shown more vulnerable than aggravated) is all that the show needs to deliver in order to let the audience fill in the gaps. The reality of it is that sometimes, no matter how much you love someone, love and care are just not enough; (something that I wish writers for Rogue/Gambit would have also understood a long time ago instead of beating that dead horse and pretending it’s still moving. sorry!)  In this case Magneto's fragile mental state could have absolutely overshadowed and even dragged Rogue down. When someone’s own battles end up taking most of the space in a relationship that can be shattering because you love them but you are unable to help them and, worst of all, they can end up taking you down with them.

There is a song by Leonard Cohen that always makes me think of Magneto and Rogue and it goes like this: ‘I was dying to get back home, And you were starting out// They oughta give my heart a medal For letting you go’ - In TAS, same as in Savage Lands, (and to some extent in the Legacy run as well) Magneto had the weight of so much (negative) experience, while Rogue, because of her condition, had a limited understanding of what commitment required. And I LOVE, LOVE, LOVE  that they both saw that, and, even if it hurt, they recognized that it was for the better to step away from each other. At least at that moment in time.

One of them (Rogue) went and looked for help in an attempt to overcome her struggles (which arguably are of a different, more personal matter). The other… well... based on how Magneto was introduced for the first time in the series, was still finding comfort in dancing with his demons. 

[inawickedlittletown]

You Can Find Me Where the Skies are Blue (BuckTommy fic) - 4/7

Summary:

Soulmates are rare. So rare that it's actually incredible that Buck has two soulmate couples in his life. Statistics tell him it's very unlikely for him to meet his soulmate. Of course, then he meets Tommy. Too bad it happens at the worst possible moment.

Canon compliant soulmate AU where Buck is still a mess and Tommy is still very understanding.

Words: 4,716

Ao3

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

-

Part Four

Eddie’s Chevelle was gorgeous. Old cars just had something about them that gave them so much more character than anything more modern. She was in good condition, too, had probably spent little time out in the sun or other weather. Tommy was more than a little impressed. 

He had Eddie drive her into the garage and right onto the lift even if he didn’t intend to lift her up just yet. Instead, he opened the hood. Eddie joined him. 

“Car’s in great condition,” Tommy said. 

“My Abuela kept it mostly in the garage with a cover. It actually belonged to my Abuelo and she couldn’t get rid of it. But once she decided to move back to Texas, she figured it was time and passed it to me.” 

“I’m gonna take a quick look,” Tommy said. “See if I find anything that needs work.”

“Sure,” Eddie said, and when Tommy looked away from the car found that Eddie had started to wander. 

Tommy didn’t mind. His garage doubled as his home gym and he was sure that a guy like Eddie might appreciate his set up from his mats to the bench press and his weights to the punching bag that Tommy had added most recently. 

“I gotta say, you really got a nice set up here,” Eddie said, returning to where Tommy was tinkering with the car. “I’ve always wanted to do something at my place but I really don’t have the space.”

Eddie wasn’t wrong that the Chevelle needed a little bit of a tune up, but it really was in good condition. Whatever Eddie had been doing, he’d been keeping up with the maintenance. 

“I got kind of tired of going to an actual gym,” Tommy said. “Between this and what we have at work I get all the exercise I need. Of course, there’s no machine or punching bag that can take the place of a real person for sparring.” 

That seemed to catch Eddie’s interest. “Wait, do you do MMA?” 

“Muay Thai,” Tommy supplied. 

Eddie grinned at him. “I think you just found a sparring partner.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Absolutely,” Eddie said. 

Tommy felt his excitement too. 

By the time that Eddie left, his car’s engine sounded better than it had when it arrived and Tommy was left behind just a little bit sweatier with the satisfaction of having taken Eddie down. The singular thing that brought him down was knowing that Evan had yet to answer his text. 

Tommy didn’t want to be pushy. He didn’t want to overwhelm Evan. He figured he’d give him until the start of his shift and then text him again. If that failed, then there was always Wednesday night. 

Before Eddie left, Tommy had made a point of inviting him out to the bar for karaoke night. He had also made a point of insisting that Eddie invite Hen and Chim and of course Evan and even Bobby if Bobby could be persuaded to show up. Significant others welcome too. It’d be nice to see everyone again of course, but his real goal was Evan. In that setting, Tommy would find some way to get him off to the side and then they could really talk or make plans to talk. Whatever worked, The point was seeing him again and Tommy was not above making it happen in a roundabout way. 

Eddie had been happy to agree and he’d also gotten Tommy to agree to go with him to a pick up basketball game that some firefighters had put together. Tommy figured it’d be fun. 

After a shower to wash off the sweat, Tommy finally dealt with Lucy, calling her because that seemed a lot easier. 

She picked up after one ring. “Evan Buckley,” she said. 

“Yeah. Evan Buckley.”

Lucy laughed. “I’m actually…the more I’ve thought about it the more I kinda see it. I just had no idea Buck swung that way. Not that it ever came up. He had a girlfriend when I worked with him. That chick that wrote that book about firefighters that kinda blew up for a minute.” 

Tommy could picture the book in his mind. He remembered it because it had been literally everywhere. Someone had even brought a few copies into Harbor. There was still some kind of ongoing legal battle about it from LAFD’s end which was kinda hilarious. 

“He dated that woman?” Tommy asked. 

“Yeah…I know,” Lucy said. “I don’t think even he liked her very much. I mean…he kinda cheated on her.” 

“And you know this how?” Tommy asked. His heart was racing. 

“Because on the night I met Buck we got really drunk of tequila and maybe we got a bit flirty and he never told me he had a girlfriend and I kissed him. I wanted…well, I wanted you to know. We never really talked about it and it never happened again.” 

“Did you want it to?” 

Lucy let out a sigh. “Yes. No. He’s hot, can you blame me? The point is he never pursued it and I backed off. And we were really drunk. And now he’s your soulmate.” 

“And he’s straight,” Tommy said. “Might mean you still have a shot.” He hated the words even as he said them. 

Maybe it was a result of being deep in the closet and not getting to experience any real firsts until his late twenties — and even then it hadn’t been out in the open — but Tommy had never gotten good at telling when someone was queer unless they were being very loud about it. He’d always been a little shocked when approached by a guy that clocked him because Tommy didn’t think he ever really gave that vibe. So, he really had no idea when it came to Evan. Except that he was his soulmate. 

“You don’t know that,” Lucy said. “Just because he’s only been with women in the past…”

“Soulmates are not always romantic,” Tommy said. 

“You don’t know that,” Lucy said. 

“Lucy,” Tommy said. “That’s…no, just look at the numbers. There are plenty of platonic soulmates. If that is what Evan and I are then that’s fine too. I’ve been realizing lately just how lonely I really am.” 

It was true. Between not having anyone to really tell about finding his soulmate and finding so much enjoyment in hanging out with Eddie and the way that he did feel a little bit like he’d missed out on something when he left the 118, Tommy had realized that he had sort of settled for being on his own. It wasn’t that he hated it, but it did get lonely. He knew Evan would change that — they were soulmates after all — it was just that Tommy didn’t want to put all of that on Evan. The pressure of meaning absolutely everything. 

“However this turns out,” Lucy said, “I got your back, Kinard.” 

—

Buck spent the first hour on shift trying his hardest to keep from asking Eddie about how the night before had gone with Tommy. He’d seen the text from Tommy when he woke up that morning, had felt warm reading it and realizing that Tommy really was interested in getting to know him and yet he hadn’t known what to text back. As rude as it felt to just leave it, he figured he would respond sometime during the day and that Tommy would just have to wait. Maybe it was a little bit petty too, but Buck didn’t care. 

When he saw Eddie in the locker room he almost asked then, but held himself back. He was grateful to Ravi asking Chim questions about the wedding. It had also kept Hen from making any comments, though Buck had caught her making eyes at him a few times once they were all up on the loft like she was trying to communicate to Buck that they should talk. 

When he couldn’t hold it in any longer, they were on a call. It was only him, Eddie, and Ravi because Hen and Chim had gone as an additional RA to another scene. It felt like the right time and place to bring it up. 

“Uh. Hey, you never said. How was Vegas?” Buck ventured to ask. 

“Quick trip,” Eddie said as if it was the type of thing that he did normally when Buck knew for a fact it wasn’t.

“I’ll bet. How long does it take to chopper there?” 

“One hour,” Eddie said.

“You took a chopper to Vegas?” Ravi asked. 

“And how was the fight?” Buck asked, ignoring Ravi. 

“Fight was okay. Seats were amazing. Tommy’s buddies with the promoter so we were ringside. Felt like I was the one throwing the punches.” 

Maybe it would have been fun to be there, but it really wasn’t Buck’s thing. He didn’t see the appeal to watching two people try to pummel each other. 

“Who’s Tommy?” he heard Ravi ask. 

My soulmate, Buck wanted to answer. He held it in. He felt a bit foolish maybe or embarrassed that he hadn’t told Eddie. Not that they’d had any time to talk lately. He didn’t want to just drop the information while walking into a restaurant for a call that dispatch hadn’t been sure wasn’t a prank. 

As it turned out, it wasn’t a prank. They called it in to dispatch even though the restaurant manager had already called the police. Ravi had gone down there and Buck wanted to continue the conversation. 

“I’m not surprised you had a great time in Vegas,” Buck ventured. “You and Tommy have a lot of things in common. Both in the Army. Both like watching half naked men pummel each other.”

As he listed it, it also dawned on him that he and Tommy didn’t have those things in common and maybe not even other things. He knew, logically, that people could have different interests. Buck and Eddie were good friends and they weren’t into the same things. Chim and Maddie had their own hobbies too. And though he could have very long discussions about cosmic things revolving black holes and time dilation and why exactly Pluto wasn’t a planet with Karen, Hen tended to just tune them out. Still, it left something of a bad taste in his mouth to know that Eddie and Tommy had bonded that much when he hadn’t even gotten a chance. 

“Tommy’s pretty cool,” Eddie said. “It’s been a while since I met someone who can go toe to toe with me in muay thai.” 

That caught Buck short. How many times had Eddie hung out with Tommy? They did all meet the same night right? He wasn’t crazy to feel like things weren’t adding up. He hated the way that it twisted at his gut, how it made him feel uncomfortable. 

“Uh, you guys went to muay thai together?” 

“He’s got a set up in his garage. We sparred a bit when I took the Chevelle over.” 

“You…you took the Chevelle over?” Buck asked and he hoped his voice didn’t give away his feelings. 

Eddie had even gone over to Tommy’s? When had Eddie even had the time? It had barely been a whole week since they met Tommy. 

“Yeah, he’s got a car lift. The guy really knows his engines. You should hear that thing purr now.” 

Buck had seen the Chevelle all of twice since Eddie took custody of it. It was a beautiful car, well preserved for its age. He’d sat in the passenger seat while Eddie drove them around and while he’d appreciated the car, it hadn’t really held his interest. He’d never been much of a car guy. 

After his Jeep was flooded during the hurricane, he’d just gone through the process of replacing it through insurance. He hadn’t even thought about getting a different car. He only really had a Jeep in the first place since Maddie had given him her Jeep as a way to escape their parents. That car had gotten him pretty far until Buck sold it and used the money to travel down to South America. When he moved back and needed a car, he’d just figured a Jeep would do and he’d stuck to that ever since. 

They checked in with Ravi, and Buck was so glad that he wasn’t the one down there, though maybe it would have been preferable to talking to Eddie about Tommy. 

“Well, listen, I — I think it’s great,” Buck said and maybe it was. He did want his best friend and his soulmate to get along. “You know, you can’t have enough friends right?” 

“Right,” Eddie said. “You know, it’s like that thing when you meet somebody and you just click. You know what I mean? Kinda like the soulmate thing. You meet someone and you just know you want them in your life or however it is that works.”

Buck felt like his stomach give a turn. 

“I do,” Buck said. “I really do.” 

The feeling in his stomach, the churning and twisting intensified. He knew exactly what it felt like, the instant connection that Eddie was talking about and it was so much more than the bond between two people that had similar hobbies. It didn’t change that Buck downright hated it. How dare Eddie just swoop in and become more interesting to Buck’s own soulmate? 

“So, when do you think you’ll see him again?” Buck ventured to ask, hoping that Eddie didn’t already have plans with Tommy. 

“He’s got this Karaoke bar trivia thing on Wednesday,” Eddie said. 

Buck saw an opening. He was ready to invite himself along. The words were ready, but Eddie spoke first. 

“Hey, what are you doing Wednesday?” Eddie asked and Buck felt hopeful because if Eddie invited him along then he and Tommy could possibly get some time to talk. It’d be perfect. 

“Me? Uh, yeah, no I’m free. Totally free Wednesday.” 

“Do you think you could watch Christopher for me?” 

Disappointment hit him almost exactly like the guy they were rescuing had been hit. A car driving too fast with a driver too irresponsible to accept consequences. Eddie was the driver and he’d just swept Buck into a sewer. When he agreed, it felt like resignation. This was Buck’s role…the babysitter while Eddie went out and had fun with Buck’s very own soulmate. He knew that if he said something about Tommy being his soulmate that Eddie would back off, but Buck didn’t want that. He didn’t want to get to Tommy because Eddie canceled their plans not to mention that he didn’t want to tell Eddie this way. 

When they got back to the 118, Buck didn’t stick around to talk to Eddie. He found Bobby cooking and after the weeks where he’d been gone on that cruise, it was a very welcome sight. This was where Bobby belonged. 

“You alright, Buck?” Bobby asked. 

Of course he could tell that something was up. It was something of Bobby’s superpower. One of the things that made him an amazing Captain and maybe what had drawn Buck to open up to him. 

“What do you think about soulmates?” Buck asked. 

“Soulmates,” Bobby said. “I guess it isn’t something we’ve ever discussed. What brings this on?” 

“Just…I guess I was thinking about it. Was, uh, wondering what you thought about it.”

“Is this another one of your late night research things?” Bobby asked with an amused smile. 

Buck shrugged. “I guess it’s just interesting…like the idea that two people could ever just fit that well together. I was reading about Plato’s Symposium because that’s one of the earliest things we have about explaining it even though there’s so many records that were kept about people meeting their soulmates. It’s why there can even be a claim about how fewer soulmate meetings there are. In the Symposium, Aristophane explains love and soulmates like the gods splitting souls in half as a punishment for humanity. So we walk around trying to find the other half of our souls to then finally become complete.”

“That’s interesting,” Bobby said. “It’s a little mythical. A story.” 

“Well, yeah,” Buck said, “but soulmates are real even if only a portion of the population ever manages to find their soulmates.”

Bobby nodded, thoughtfully. “There are stories within every culture and within many religions. Some people put more meaning to it, but I don’t think not being soulmates with someone devalues that relationship.”

“I know,” Buck said. “You and Athena…it’s amazing.”

“It isn’t perfect,” Bobby said. “All relationships need work. Even when you are soulmates. What else did you find?” 

Research was what he did when he was worrying about something. Information was everything to Buck. He loved talking about the things he found and everyone at the 118 had been subjected to Buck’s info dumps. Sometimes, if relevant, he could even bring things up during calls. 

“Well, I started to look at platonic soulmates,” Buck said. 

Bobby looked a bit taken aback. “Platonic soulmates,” he repeated. 

“Yeah,” Buck said, letting out a nervous breath. “Most of them are same sex soulmates. Which I think is a bit of historical erasure to keep everything heterosexual. But I guess it does happen. There are a few these days that say they’re platonic…I just wondered about it like how if you find your soulmate, there is no way any other relationship could ever mean as much, could it?” 

Bobby smiled at him. “I think every friendship and every relationship is different for everyone, Buck. We each have a lot of love to give.”

“Yeah,” Buck said. 

“I guess think about it like this,” Bobby said, “Chimney and Maddie are soulmates and things haven’t been perfect for them. They love each other. They also both love Jee and the love they each hold for their daughter is not diminished because they are soulmates. So yes, maybe it is possible that someone can find their soulmate and still lead a romantic relationship with someone else.”

Buck hadn’t thought about it that way. He realized it was different. A parent’s love was different, but Bobby did have a point. Somehow he still felt just a little strange at the thought that Tommy could be his soulmate and still have a girlfriend or a wife…that Buck could do the same. Something about it felt wrong, he just had no idea why. 

“Why is it you’re worrying about this?” Bobby asked. 

Bobby really did know him too well. It wasn’t that Buck hadn’t intended to tell Bobby, it was that he was still trying to figure it all out for himself. But maybe that was part of the problem, Buck needed to communicate more. 

“I met my soulmate, Bobby,” Buck said. 

“Buck, that’s great,” Bobby said. 

“I don’t know,” Buck said. “I thought so at first, but I just…it’s a dude and I mean, this has to be platonic, right? I’m not…I love women. Not that it even matters maybe because he’s busy hanging out with someone else.” 

“Ah,” Bobby said. “It’s still a good thing, Buck. You found your soulmate…whatever that looks like for the two of you, I’m happy for you.” 

“Thanks, Bobby. I just hate not knowing.” 

“Not knowing?” 

“We’ve barely talked. I just want…I guess I just want all of this to be figured out already.” 

Bobby chuckled. “Buck, you know by now that nothing works like that.” 

Buck sighed. He dropped his head. “This should be the easy thing, though, shouldn’t it be?” 

“Eventually it might very well be.” 

Buck wanted nothing more than to hold onto that. 

—

Wednesday night, Tommy took a little longer than usual getting ready. He went through a few different shirts until finally settling on a blue henley, threw on a brown leather jacket over it and touched up his hair. He hoped he didn’t look like he was trying too hard. It was just that things hadn’t exactly gone right the first time he and Evan got together after their first meeting. His fault entirely. Looking back, Tommy should have pushed that meeting to a day when he didn’t already have plans even if it meant waiting a little longer to see him.  

Eddie had never confirmed whether Evan was coming, but when they texted earlier, Tommy had reiterated that Eddie should invite Evan, Hen, and Chim along. Eddie had only sent back a thumbs up, but Tommy was hopeful. After all, he had finally gotten a response from Evan. 

Evan: Thank you for the message. I hope we can get that beer soon whenever you’re not busy. 

Tommy took it to mean that maybe Evan was coming along with Eddie, but that he didn’t want to say it outright. So, he took a bit of extra time on his appearance and then he left for the bar a bit on the early side. He was excited, not nervous. 

Tommy had thought about inviting Lucy along, especially since she already knew everyone. Except that she would be a menace when it came to him and Evan and neither of them needed that. Hen knew about it, he had yet to text her back after her message of congratulations but maybe that was another reason to see her in person. Tommy was also pretty sure that Eddie had no idea. Since Chim hadn’t reached out, it also figured it was unlikely that he was aware. Tommy did find it a little curious that despite Eddie claiming to be Evan’s best friend, Evan hadn’t told him about finding his soulmate. 

Wednesday nights with the karaoke aspects meant that the bar was a little busier. The girl setting up the karaoke machine already had her sign up sheet out and a few people had signed up to sing. Tommy didn’t know if he would. He wasn’t exactly the best singer, but that wasn’t the point of karaoke and it had never stopped him in the past. It was just that…well, he didn’t want to make an ass of himself in front of Evan. 

Eddie arrived some fifteen minutes later, completely on his own. 

“Hey, man,” he said and they bumped fists before Eddie sat down. “Didn’t get a drink yet? I’ll get us a couple of beers.” 

“Uh, sure,” Tommy said and he didn’t pretend that he didn’t look towards the door to see if Evan would walk in. He perked up every time the door opened, but it wasn’t anyone from the 118. 

When Eddie got back, he had two bottles in hand and the waitress behind him brought over two shots of some yellow looking liquid. 

“Courage to get us singing,” Eddie said with a grin. 

After the waitress left they lifted the shot glasses and downed them in one. Whatever Eddie had picked, it was both sweet and very very alcoholic. Tommy coughed afterwards and he thought that Eddie’s eyes were watering. 

“What was that?” 

“No idea,” Eddie said. “It had a funny name.” 

Tommy laughed. “Next time, stick to vodka or rum.” 

“Not tequila?” 

“I can’t say I’m a fan of the aftermath.” 

Eddie laughed. 

Tommy gave it some time. Eddie started telling him about the call they’d had the day before with a guy needing to be rescued from the sewer. Tommy had missed the weird and crazy things that you got called to as a firefighter or paramedic. As a pilot, he spent more time flying than doing any of the rescuing and sometimes he did miss being part of the action instead of just being a part of the transport. 

“Hey, is anyone else coming?” Tommy asked when enough time had gone by. 

“Oh. Hen and Karen are taking in a foster kid soon so they had a meeting with someone. Chim is busy with wedding planning.” 

“And what about Evan?” 

“Buck? Oh…he’s actually watching Christopher.” 

It took a moment for it to sink in. Eddie was taking a gulp of his drink and his attention was on the stage where the mic was being set up. Lights shone down in multiple colors. Any minute now they would start with the first on the list. There was a small crowd gathering over the folder that held the list of songs available. 

Evan wasn’t coming. 

Tommy was more than a little disappointed. 

Evan wasn’t coming because Eddie had him babysitting his kid. Tommy didn’t want to be there anymore. The whole night…it felt pointless. He’d gone through so many shirts for the possibility of seeing Evan and even though Eddie had never said he was coming, Tommy had sort of told himself that of course Evan would. He’d wanted to see Hen and Chim too, maybe not as much as Evan, but he had definitely wanted to see them. 

There was one other thing, though. Tommy knew he couldn’t blame Eddie…it was just that with the other day and the fight he had no idea what this might look like to Evan. 

“Did Evan know this was why he’s babysitting?” Tommy asked. “Us going out tonight?” 

“Yeah,” Eddie said. “I mentioned it. He was happy to babysit. Didn’t have anything else going on.” 

Eddie was absolutely clueless. 

Evan’s text from earlier suddenly had an entirely different connotation and Tommy knew he had a choice. He could stay and hang out with Eddie and spend the whole night thinking about Evan…or he could fix it. 

“I really was looking forward to seeing everyone,” Tommy said. “That's why I suggested this in the first place.” 

“Oh,” Eddie said. 

“In fact, there is someone that I actually really do have to see tonight. Right now, in fact.” 

“What are you talking about?” Eddie asked. 

Tommy didn’t know how Evan would feel about it, but it was his truth to tell as well. So, he looked straight at Eddie. 

“I met my soulmate and I need to see him tonight.” 

“You met your soulmate,” Eddie said, awe in his voice. “That’s awesome. So why are you here right now? Hell, if I’d met my soulmate I wouldn’t be out with anyone else.” 

Tommy chuckled. “Because I was counting on him being here.”

“Him,” Eddie said and Tommy could see his mind trying to fixate that to what he knew about Tommy. 

“Yes. Is that a problem, Eddie?” 

“No,” Eddie said immediately. “No. Of course not. I just didn’t realize you were…gay? Bi?”

“Gay,” Tommy said. 

Eddie nodded. “Alright. Yeah, no problem with that.” 

Tommy sighed. He didn’t want to correct Eddie on what Tommy’s soulmate bond might be, but he did like how easily Eddie just took Tommy coming out to him. 

“So I need you to do me a favor, Eddie.” 

“Yeah, anything,” Eddie said. “Though I don’t know how I can help.” 

Tommy chuckled. “I need you to drive us to your house.”

“Tommy that—”

“I just need you to drive us or give me your address so I can take an uber there.” 

“But why do you need to go to my house?” 

Tommy just stared at him. Eddie raised his bottle to his lips and he was drinking when it seemed to start to click. Tommy didn’t have time for it, though. 

“We need to go to your house so you can stay with your kid and I can talk to Evan,” Tommy said

Eddie still didn’t seem to connect the dots. “Why would you need to talk to Buck?” 

“Maybe because Evan is my soulmate,” Tommy said. “And when I asked you to invite him and the others tonight it was so that I could talk to him. But now he’s babysitting and I’m hanging out with you. So I need to talk to Evan,” 

As Eddie finally came to the right conclusion. His mouth opening into an “oh” of surprise. 

“You see, I’ve kinda left him before to hang out with you so…”

“So you gotta talk to Buck,” Eddie said. 

Eddie took care of their tab and meanwhile two skinny girls had made it onto the stage as the first ones to take on a song. They were giggling nervously, clearly not drunk enough yet. He and Eddie walked out of the bar as the first notes were starting. 

“Wait,” Eddie said once they were in the parking lot. 

“Yes?” 

“But Buck isn’t gay,” Eddie said. 

Tommy could have face palmed. 

[wisecreatorprofessorwolf]

So this is going to be my very first fic on here, I’m a little nervous but kind of excited I hope you like it

Series X-Men

Remy lebeau Gambit x male reader

(Y/N) couldn’t shake the feeling something was going to happen, for years he’s trusted and honed his senses and they’ve always been wright. This was not good it was the worst sensation (Y/N) had ever felt.

Standing alone in the corner of the dimly lit room full of friends. This should be a good day, no a great day the celebration of Scott and Jeans wedding. But the feeling persists. Y/N wanders the room recognising friends and family from fellow mutants to politicians.

Y/N shuffling through the crowd of people, glass in hand, dressed to the nines for this beautiful event. Wanting nothing more than to figure out what is going to happen and wanting the room to swallow him whole, bumps into someone deep in thought he feels a pair of hands firmly planted on his shoulders. “Woah there mon ami where’s the fire”.

Y/N, startled out his thoughts bumping into his best friend could only blush “no fire, just thinking that’s all Remy” Remy was observant enough to know his friend was troubled by something, but also knows not to push Y/N’s his best friend, his wingman and his confidant.

Recently though there have been changes in this companionship the rest of the x-men had noticed the only ones to know why are the telepaths Jean Grey Summers and Charles Xavier. Jean and Charles sharing knowing glances at the pair knowing the two men and their feelings.

The changes began a month ago when Remy had started spending more time with Y/N than Rogue. The reason behind that being for a long time things between Remy and Rogue becoming more complex leading the couple to separate, when Remy had a talk with Rogue about how things had changed and they should move on.

Remy for a while now had developed feelings for his best friend Y/N, finally single he has wanted to explore these feelings and could only hope that Y/N feels the same. “Y/N you’re actually the person I was looking for”. Y/N could only look like a deer in headlights “don’t worry mon cheri, I just thought we could talk, I want to tell you something mon amour” Y/N could only blush more noticing the change from dear to love all Y/N. Outdoor think was “does Remy know oh no” Y/N was sweating bullets panicking, Remy ever observant notices Y/N start to look around the room almost wanting to escape.

Remy leading Y/N out of the room celebrating the newly weds “breath Y/N mon cheri it’s nothing bad but it’s important” Y/N was all to focused on Remy’s hand in his as he guided him out the room “ Y/N have you noticed how different the mansion has been recently”

“Well I noticed during the wedding planning Jean was relaxed and Scott was the bridezilla” with a laugh.

“No mon cheri I meant between us”

“I’ve noticed you’ve been spending more time with me, there’s been a tense atmosphere between you and Rogue, is the.”

“We broke up, I started noticing problems in the relationship and we decided to end things we deserve to be happy, right mon amour” Remy interrupted

Y/N was yet again startled as he feels Remy’s lips meet his, it was slow and sensual like electricity coursing through your whole being. Y/N felt arms tighten round his body as the kiss deepens.

“I’m sorry bout that mon cheri, I had wanted to do that for a while now babe, I wanted to tell you that I have feelings for you and want to explore them. What do you think mon Cheri would you explore this with me”.

Y/N couldn’t believe it stunned, Remy had actually felt the same way “I want to explore this too Remy you have no idea how long I’ve had feeling for you for” he leans in for a kiss. There lips meeting in a sensual dance sharing of feelings.

“Well then mon amour let’s make up for all that time shall we”.

The end

This was my very first fic that I’ve posted, wow 😯 I’m nervous and excited feel free to like, repost and comment

[todayisafridaynight]

would it be okay if u told me why u like aoki😭/gen😭😭😭😭BEEN TRYNA LIKE HIM FOR SO LONG I JUST CANTT but i love ur art so much so i still consume it otherwise lol

i liked tohru adachi in high school and tbh i think that alone is enough of an explanation for why i ended up liking aoki

[pepprs]

doing really bad in ways i can’t talk about which is making it worse

[slippery-minghus]

hmm. had an actual conversation with nightmare coworker today that seemed mutually productive. she apologized for saying some bullshit that hurt my feelings and i clarified that my intentions are to help not to undermine her, and we both agreed that there's no competition against each other and that it's the lack of growth in our role that's the problem. it was...productive.

and further cementing for me that it is time to begin making my Exit. i will be sending out my resume to a few places this weekend.

i'm still processing the conversation, and am struggling to place myself in where i am responsible to better my behavior. because i genuinely don't want to be an ass, even though i really don't like this lady and will jump for joy the day i never have to see her again. she stated that she knows my intentions aren't to hurt her, and that she thinks i'm very kind. i apologized for if my behavior came off as undermining her, and said that my intentions are only to better my own growth—and that i know she's trying to succeed too. i validated her feelings, and complemented the effort she is putting in.

where i'm struggling with is: am i in the wrong/causing harm and needing to change if the issue is that her feelings are incongruent with what she knows of my intentions? her feelings are her responsibility (WOW i almost typed "her feelings are my responsibility". i feel like that's a freudian slip) and she states that she knows i don't mean to hurt her. i'm going to try to be more clear in wording my intentions with her (she feels like me trying to take work off her plate is to undermine her. when really, i'm caught up and see her getting overwhelmed, and i want to help and also have something to do since i'm bored).

but i'm really struggling to look at my role in this and pass judgement on myself. i can and want to do better, and i don't think i did anything wrong, but i'm always so hesitant to say it's not my fault or i didn't do something bad. like i can't trust my judgement on that. my intentions were good, her bad feelings are ones caused by her insecurities, which she more or less has expressed to be aware that they are not true—the hurtful thing she said to me, she acknowledged was said out of hurt and not what she actually thinks. so, is it fair to say i'm not the bad guy? i'm not in the wrong? i know good intentions that still result in harm don't absolve anyone, but when the things that are clashing are insufficient communication and reactive insecurities... i'm not a monster, am i?

[yvesdot]

Just so everybody knows I saw Everything Everywhere All At Once and it was great!!! Going to continue my practice of not seeing a movie until all of my friends say it changed their lives and having my mind blown in a tiny theatre. ^__^

[floorpancakes]

🤔

[intcrastra]

Brainrotting abt Gallagher again:

So like. What is NEEDED for him to be able to assimilate traits of another person? Does he need to kill them? Ingest the DNA (him or the Meme)?? Just observe them & work from there??? WHAT IS IT????

[skrunksthatwunk]

playing dmc1 with my earbuds in (but on low volume bc they're being weird) while my roommate and her shitty bf argue. i feel like i'm recreating the very specific experience of some child of divorce out there

[knaveofmogadore]

Kfkdks

[viosjaan]

i don't think you want anything to do with me anymore so i can just vent the texts i want to send to you here