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#sometimes I have far too much time to Think
alexanderwales · 2 days
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I'm a big fan of wizards-as-programmers, but I think it's so much better when you lean into programming tropes.
A spell the wizard uses to light the group's campfire has an error somewhere in its depths, and sometimes it doesn't work at all. The wizard spends a lot of his time trying to track down the exact conditions that cause the failure.
The wizard is attempting to create a new spell that marries two older spells together, but while they were both written within the context of Zephyrus the Starweaver's foundational work, they each used a slightly different version, and untangling the collisions make a short project take months of work.
The wizard has grown too comfortable reusing old spells, and in particular, his teleportation spell keeps finding its components rearranged and remixed, its parts copied into a dozen different places in the spellbook. This is overall not actually a problem per se, but the party's rogue grows a bit concerned when the wizard's "drying spell" seems to just be a special case of teleportation where you teleport five feet to the left and leave the wetness behind.
A wizard is constantly fiddling with his spells, making minor tweaks and changes, getting them easier to cast, with better effects, adding bells and whistles. The "shelter for the night" spell includes a tea kettle that brings itself to a boil at dawn, which the wizard is inordinately pleased with. He reports on efficiency improvements to the indifference of anyone listening.
A different wizard immediately forgets all details of his spells after he's written them. He could not begin to tell you how any of it works, at least not without sitting down for a few hours or days to figure out how he set things up. The point is that it works, and once it does, the wizard can safely stop thinking about it.
Wizards enjoy each other's company, but you must be circumspect about spellwork. Having another wizard look through your spellbook makes you aware of every minor flaw, and you might not be able to answer questions about why a spell was written in a certain way, if you remember at all.
Wizards all have their own preferences as far as which scripts they write in, the formatting of their spellbook, its dimensions and material quality, and of course which famous wizards they've taken the most foundational knowledge from. The enlightened view is that all approaches have their strengths and weaknesses, but this has never stopped anyone from getting into a protracted argument.
Sometimes a wizard will sit down with an ancient tome attempting to find answers to a complicated problem, and finally find someone from across time who was trying to do the same thing, only for the final note to be "nevermind, fixed it".
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Hi can u please write about domestic life with Bills Eric Draven? Can there be fluffy and smutty moments? Tyyyy
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Boy can I??? I’d be DELIGHTED. His domesticity is all I think about. He’s the sweetest, kindest and most loving bf and you can’t change my mind. I got a little carried away! Hopefully this is what you were wanting! Enjoy doll!
Bf!Eric x gf!reader. Explicit sexual content under the cut, minors dni, oral (f receiving), p in v. brief mentions of drug use, mostly fluffy relationship stuff
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It wasn’t entirely easy. You and Eric. The circumstances under which you met and the nature of the both of you was quite dysfunctional. You were chaos, and he was a mess. But it worked. The two of you. You worked perfectly. You weren’t sure what it was, you had never been able to maintain a healthy relationship with anyone. But it was almost like you were meant to be together. If you didn’t believe in the whole soulmates thing, you started to believe it when you met Eric.
He was so unreal, so out of this world. He was always by your side, fingers laced with yours, arm thrown over your shoulder. He always had to be touching you, whether it was something as little as holding your hand, or going as far as putting you in a matting press when he fucked you, because he hated the idea of not being as close to you as possible. He never meant to, he didn’t even know what it was. He just did it one day. Your knees damn near next to your head, your body nearly folded in half as he draped his body over yours. You didn’t even know your body could bend this way. But god this you like it. How deep he could be this way. And you had him so close you could hear his little sounds, his hard breathing and his soft grunts.
He always felt a little bad, manhandling you around like you were nothing. If he wasn’t bending your body in ways you didn’t think were human, he was putting you in a headlock as he took you from behind, one arm draped around your neck from shoulder to shoulder. He just wanted you close, afraid you’d run away. But he sometimes forgot to take it easy on you. You always assured him you were more than happy with him, that he wouldn’t hurt you. Deep down it made you all kinds of earn to know you could arise such passions from him. For someone so morbidly quiet and nonchalant, Eric was very intense and passionate lover.
“It’s okay, baby. I got you. You’re doing so good.” He would tell you, his voice soft and quiet in your ear, grounding you as his cock fucked you into nothing. “I just want to make you feel good, hm? Just want to make you feel good. That’s what you deserve.”
“I don’t deserve this. You’re too good for me.” He would say, his lips on your cheek as quiet moans spilled from your lips. “You’re just so… I can’t believe you’re all mine.” His name falling from your lips would be the end of him. So soft and desperate for him. He didn’t have much experience before you, but now he just can’t get enough of you. He wanted to be all over you at all times it actually upset him when you had to leave or when he did.9
But he was also oh so kind, so gentle and patient with you. He always followed you around like an oversized puppy, quietly listening to whatever tangent you would go on about. You could be cursing up a storm (albeit not directed at him) and he would take it with a straight face and big eyes. And it was often that nothing more but his presence would calm you down, center you.
“How do you do it?” You asked him one day, hot tears staining your face after a day of one stressor after another. Eric had managed to get you on the couch where he silently sat you down on his lap. You almost immediately curled up into his lap, legs tucked under you and your head on his chest. You felt an almost instant sense of relief and peace fill you, and you were sighing deeply, feeling your heart slow its fast beating.
“Do what?” He asked you softly, his fingers massaging your head calmly. You rested your hand on his chest, eyes closed.
“This. You calm me down. I was crying two minutes ago and now I feel… okay.” You felt him shrug under you and when you looked up he had a smile on his face. That smile could make you forget any grief or sadness you might have, because none of it really mattered.
But it wasn’t just him who could bring you peace, you were his, too. His lows weren’t as intense or visible as yours, but when he was at his low, he was at an all time low. He wouldn’t speak, he wouldn’t eat, he would just go about his day like a corpse, eyes dead and empty and his mind elsewhere. You understood he had his issues too, so you tried to be there for him without pushing him. You were more subtle. You’d make him dinner, you’d invite him to watch a movie with you. And you’d tangle up with him on the couch as you all but forced him to eat, and you’d talk to him about your day. But something so small always meant so much to him. He couldn’t help the way he felt, he couldn’t help his negative thoughts that drove him to do drugs in the first place, but having you around to remind him someone in this world loved and cared for him, it made it all a little bit easier.
Eric started to bring you flowers one day. Every week once a week, he could come home with your favorite flowers. He alternated colors. With a sheepish smile he’d stand in the doorway with his hands behind his back. And the way he would look at you when gushed about how pretty they were was like he was looking at the most beautiful thing in the world, the only one that mattered. And to him you were. Seeing that smile on your face was the only thing he ever wanted to do.
“You like them?” He would ask as if it wasn’t obvious, but he’d do it just to hear you giggle and watch you all but skip to put them in water. “Yeah? I saw them and thought about you.”
He always thought about you. There wasn’t a single waking second where he didn’t. You were good for him. And he knew that. He didn’t need anything else to fill the emptiness in his chest because he had you. You had filled that hole and he made sure you knew that everyday.
Eric had many ways to show his love and devotion for you. He wrote you poems, he drew for you, you had so many sketches you have started to run out of places to hang them, but this one was by far his favorite. He could spend literal hours between your legs. He absolutely loved it. He was absolutely obsessed with it.
“E-Eric.. Please.” You were shaking, sweating, incoherent as his tongue circled on your clit, his long fingers fucking you through your, fourth, fifth? You stopped keeping count. He had been down there for an eternity. He just kept asking for one more, just one more and he’d leave you alone. But it wasn’t enough. He was quite obsessive with the things he wanted.
But he figured he’d have to give you a break eventually. He was also painfully hard.
“I’m sorry baby.” He muttered softly as he crawled up your body, using the back of his hand to wipe the mess you had made, but his plush lips were still bright red and glistening. “You know I get carried away sometimes… You’re just so..”
He would kiss your face, brush your hair, soothe you back into a functioning human being. It wasn’t often that Eric vocalized his thoughts, but in moments like this when he felt safe and comfortable enough to be vulnerable, he would tell you all about how pretty you were, how talented you were, how much he loved you.
Eric was always full of surprises. He was quiet and nonchalant, but he was impulsive. You learned that very quickly.
“Baby?” You heard Eric call out to you as he came into the loft. You sat on the computer as you listened to one of his recordings. He had asked you to help him out since he really wanted to start pursuing his music and art now that he actually had someone that supported him.
With a smile, you took your headphones off and went to greet him, but you immediately frowned when you saw him hold something wrapped up in his hoodie.
“Hey, whatcha got there?” You stood up, approaching him with narrowed eyes as he broke out a smile.
“I’m sorry. I just found it, I just.. I felt bad.” He pulled down his hoodie to reveal a precious little kitten. A black ball of fur coating its little face. Your heart immediately sank and you wanted to cry.
“Oh my god, Eric.” You took the kitten into your hands and your eyes started watering as you hugged it. Eric wasn’t sure what to make of your reaction. Did you hate it? Were you upset?
“No, baby, I’m sorry. I found it outside, it’s kinda cold and it was drinking from a puddle. I didn’t want a car to hit it. We don’t have to keep it if you don’t want to, we can take it to a shelter or something.” He started to mumble, a hand coming to rub the back of his head and his lips fell open when he saw a tear fall down your cheek. He approached you, reaching to grab your face. “Please don’t cry.”
“No… No Eric I’m not..” You sniffled, laughing softly through your tears as you leaned into Eric’s chest while still hugging the now purring black ball of fur. “I’m not upset at all. It’s just… I’ve never had my own pet before. And it’s so cute, can we keep it, please? It’d be our little child.”
The way you looked at him with big pleading eyes made him feel so warm, he never thought he’d feel something like this. He smiled, nodding as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.
“Of course we can keep it. He’s kinda cute, right?” Eric chuckled as he scratched the little one’s head.
“Or she.”
Your little ball of fur wasn’t the only thing you and Eric shared. You got so many matching tattoos it was concerning. Your friends and family had even told you it was odd to get tattoos with a guy you had been dating for only a few months. But it didn’t matter to you. You didn’t know why, but deep down you knew your connection with Eric was out of this world. So what were a couple tattoos? You loved that you had a physical reminder of your connection with him. The feelings deep within your souls were forever marked on your skin, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.
Truth was, Eric loved tracing each and every one of your tattoos. He traced his fingers over the fine lines, traced the words, he traced his lips over them too. He particularly loved the ones on your back and on your stomach, the ones no one but him could see. They were his little secret.
You matched each other perfectly, in every way.
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possiblyreallyme · 3 days
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Ace's little girlfriend
warning: dirty words, getting caught (sort of?), ace can't be subtle for the life of him.
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The young second division commander was a fun time on the ship, from his stupid pranks to his kitchen raids. He was like the little brother of the crew, despite going on and on about his own younger brother all the time, bragging or just straight up annoying the men with stories.
And he was a flirt, much to the teasing of everyone else. He'd playfully flex his muscles when girls saw them working on the deck, wink across bars when the crew was in a tavern or even scoot just a little closer to the fancy pirate ladies they sometimes met.
It was funny— Of course Marco would have to tease him, of course Thatch would impersonate him at dinner, of course Izo would bat his lashes and "faint" as if Ace was some sort of hunk. And what made it funnier, was that they all knew what he really was.
Poor boy liked to pretend to be some bigshot, but they knew he was nothing more than a nervous virgin, too shy to even hold a girl's hand. It was cute when they asked about all the chicks he'd banged and watch him go bright red, flames licking at his freckled shoulders while he stutters and fumbles over his words.
One time, back on a summer island when Ace was still relatively new, Thatch thought it'd be funny to buy a red thong and place it in Ace's laundry basket to stir up his nerves. And boy, was it the talk of all of Whitebeard's fleets for months.
"Ummm..." If only this situation was as lighthearted as that time.
Ace had the eyes of every man on the ship burning holes into his skin, and he had never wished he wore a shirt more because suddenly the mostly-faded scratches down his back and shoulders felt bright red and exposed.
Marco was stunned into silence, seeing how Ace clutched the small white piece of fabric with a death grip, looking ready to burn it while he kept it in his clenched fist. He had never seen Ace grab something from someone so fast— not even when Luffy's bounty went up and Vista held the wanted poster over his head.
"Son," Whitebeard started slowly, raising an eyebrow from where he sat at his chair, keeping his voice low and suspicious. "Could you tell me why Marco found that up in the crow's nest this morning?"
Mortified, Ace turned a brighter red than the beads of his necklace, stammering over some lame excuse about how it wasn't his! He had just grabbed it out of Marco's hand because, um, it was disrespectful to stare at a lady's undergarments!
Thatch practically snorted; eyes glued to Ace's fist with a playful grin. The situation might have been odd and slightly serious, but it was entertaining nonetheless.
Marco, however, was much more smug than Ace was comfortable with, crossing his arms with a mean curl of his lips as he strode forward.
"Well, it seems our Fire-Fist here does know how to get some pussy." He didn't care how embarrassed it made the young division commander to hear him use such dirty words, especially when Ace himself was known far and wide for his colorful vocabulary.
"I-It's not like that!" Ace all but screamed, voice a little too high-pitched and whiney to convince any of them. He knew damn well it was like that, and it almost made him feel bad to deny that you two had such an amazing night a few hours before.
He wished he had the brains to think of a way out of the situation, blame it on someone that they wouldn't be surprised snuck a girl onto the ship. Part of him wished he could boast, too. Because fuck, last night was something he wouldn't be able to get out of his newly-fucked head.
The fabric was so small, especially in Ace's large hands. Much too dainty and breakable and feminine to belong to anyone on the crew. Even the nurses wouldn't wear something like this, a cute, cotton lace with frilly white edges and a flowery design.
"Ha!!" Thatch couldn't hold it back anymore, encouraging the crew to break out into fits of laughter and snickers and almost childish giggles, which only further Ace's wish to bury himself in a hole and die.
Oh god, he was such an idiot. He should have remembered to pick up your panties before someone saw them, and now he would pay the price.
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m0onlustre · 9 hours
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Only a fool would bargain with the leader of Onychinus
ᯓPairing: Sylus x female reader (afab)
ᯓGenre: somewhat enemies to lovers, smut, porn with oc plot, angst
ᯓWord Count: 5,8k
ᯓ tags - WARNINGS: mdni, reader isn’t the lnds!mc, explicit sexual content, first time sex (not virginity loss) alterations to the main story, dr/y humping, thigh riding, b/egging, f!receiving oral, p in v, unprotected sex, creampies, squirting, dirty talking, use of pet names (kitten, sweetie, baby), violence, mentions of injuries. 
ᯓ Notes: Some of you may have already read my fic, The Price of Desire, in which the reader’s evol is mentioned. If you have, you’ll notice that the evol is the same in this story; however, there is no connection between the two. The concept of a reader with this ability was too appealing for me to resist, and since it was briefly mentioned in the previous fic, I decided to explore it further in this one. I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it! All likes and reblogs are appreciated. :3
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Going on missions for Sylus was nothing new to you by now. You had spent years by his side since he first found you, a wild creature desperate for survival. Sometimes, you could still recall how close you had come to killing each other back then. You had been hunted by nearly every illegal underground group, all seeking your evol, and while on the run, you stumbled upon him like a scared and feral animal.
You had instinctively tried to attack him on sight; it was all you knew how to do, having fought for your freedom for as long as you could remember. You were no stranger to the danger he represented—the bloodthirsty leader of Onychinus. If other groups sought you as a mere experiment for your power, you could only imagine what Onychinus would do if they got their hands on you.
The moment you realized the person you had fallen headfirst into was the white-haired menace himself, you had attempted to fight him with everything you had. Sylus, of course, dodged every single one of your attacks effortlessly, but he was merely toying with you, for he possessed something you were unaware of; he could not be killed.
You had always been feared for your lethal evol—one touch from your bare fingers could send someone halfway to the other world. You were an extraordinary weapon, yet Sylus was not deterred; he was intrigued, even enamored by you.
With his energy manipulation, it was impossible for you to harm him, particularly when he thrived on high levels of adrenaline and excitement.
So, even as you forced yourself to keep trying to touch him, desperate to end the chaos, he reveled in your fierce determination. He loved witnessing the fire in your eyes as you believed you could take him down. When he finally grew tired of your little game and decided to put an end to it, he was blindsided by a fact he had overlooked.
While he had learned nearly everything there was to know about your evol and your abilities, he did not realize one important thing; you were immune to his mist.
No matter how fiercely the red and black tendrils curled around you, the moment your flesh made contact with them, they vanished into thin air.
Sylus had nearly salivated when he realized the challenge you presented. It had been far too long since he had encountered someone so intriguing, and he was determined that you wouldn’t walk out of that valley without becoming his.
That’s how you found yourself in his group now. Unlike everyone else, Sylus had made a promise that night: if you went home with him willingly, he would never force you to use your abilities for his research or personal gain. He needed you to choose to be there if you were going to help him.
His condition was simple: think of aiding him, and in return, you would gain his protection, a life free from fear and the constant need to run for your freedom.
You had taken a significant risk when you decided to go with him, but the white-haired man kept his word. It took you months to contemplate helping him instead of merely enjoying the luxury of his lifestyle, but he was patient. In time, you became not only his most valuable asset but also his right hand. Whenever he was out of town for deals or missions, you handled matters back home on his behalf.
Deep down, back then you knew he wasn’t just a kind-hearted man simply looking to help a struggling girl off the street. What he truly sought to protect was your evol because he believed you would eventually come around to assist him when he needed it most. So when you finally did, it was no surprise to him. He had merely given you a subtle nod and handed you the first files.
Now, two years later, you stood beside him at one of the many auctions taking place in the N109 Zone. He was after a particularly important and valuable protocore—one he had pursued for years—and today presented his chance to possess it.
Being next to him not only amplified his chances of leaving unscathed without extensive negotiation—after all, who was crazy enough to challenge the leader of Onychinus and his lethal right-hand woman?—but it also made it easier for him to operate, as you inevitably drew attention and distraction from other bidders.
His hand curled possessively around your waist as he proudly showcased you to the crowd. The dress you wore was as red as his eyes, hugging your every curve and accentuating your figure. Your hair was styled in a simple updo, revealing your back to the admiring gazes around you.
The less fabric you wore, the more difficult it was for his mist to approach you, and that was one thing you clung to. You knew he wouldn’t hurt you—he had come to not only depend on you but to trust you as well. Still, you maintained a small resistance, a defiance that you weren’t ready to surrender, no matter how much it irritated him.
Your gloves were snugly in place, allowing you to interact with him without draining his energy, thus enabling you to warn others of the imminent danger your touch posed. One slip of fabric, and whoever you touched would be lost forever.
“Mr. Sylus, I didn’t think you’d make it tonight,” a distant voice interrupted your thoughts, drawing both of your attention. A young man addressed your boss, his tone a mix of surprise and formality.
“Not happy to see me?” Sylus replied, his voice smooth as silk and sweet as honey, the smugness evident in his expression as he arched a white brow at the man.
“Of course, sir! I’m sorry, sir. I just thought you’d be out of town—”
“Change of plans." Sylus muttered, cutting him off with a tight smile before guiding you forward, his hand resting firmly on the small of your back.
As you walked toward the room where his meeting would take place, you tilted your face up to catch a glimpse of his profile. “He’s right, you know,” you began, curiosity lacing your words. “Weren’t you supposed to return next Tuesday?”
Sylus’s smirk deepened at your question. “If I had known you’d be so disappointed by my early arrival, sweetie, I would have made sure to come back yesterday.”
You scoffed at his remark, subtly flexing your back to shake his arm off, but his grip only tightened, keeping you glued to his side. “Be good now. You know how important tonight is,” He leaned in closer, his hot breath sending a shiver down your spine as it tickled your ear. “Don’t screw this up.”
You couldn’t shake the uneasiness that crawled up your spine from the subtle threat lacing his tone. Sylus had been under immense pressure lately, but you refused to let him take it out on you.
“Sylus.”
He let out an impatient huff as you halted him just outside the door of your final destination, but he turned his body to face you fully, his expression a mix of frustration and intensity.
“I’m not your enemy,” you asserted, holding his gaze with unwavering resolve. “Many people work for you, but aside from Luke and Kieran, no one stands by your side with the same loyalty I do. I know you’ve been struggling, but I’m the last person you want against you right now.”
“Oh, is that right, kitten?” His brows furrowed, drawing closer until your chests nearly touched. To an outsider, you might have appeared to be lovers, but the tension between you was palpable and lethal. “And why is that? Because you’re oh-so-dangerous?”
His provoking smirk ignited your anger, and while you couldn’t fathom what was going through his mind, you chose to avoid making a scene. Stepping away from him, you tried to regain your composure. “They’re waiting for us.”
Before you could take another step toward the door, you were abruptly lifted off the ground, hanging upside down over Sylus’s shoulder.
“What the hell are you doing?” you whispered-yelled, frantically scanning for prying eyes. Your surprise deepened when, from the shadows, Luke and Kieran rushed toward you, effortlessly pulling you from Sylus’s grip. “What—”
“Take her to the car and wait for me,” Sylus commanded sharply, his tone clipped and leaving no room for negotiation. As you were carried away from him and the room, you felt a pang of frustration.
“Let me down!” you practically shouted as the twins put distance between you and the auction building.
“Sorry, ma’am, no can do.”
“Yeah, ma’am, we’re sorry, but no one bypasses the boss's orders!”
Your heart thumped loudly in your ears as the events unfolded, anger and frustration boiling within you at how Sylus had treated you. It was the first time since you started working for him that he had dismissed you so callously, and you couldn’t ignore the pang of hurt that coiled deep in your stomach.
You sat in the backseat of the car while the twins chatted and bantered in the front, oblivious to your turmoil. It felt surreal, as if they were living in a different world. Maybe you were overthinking it—after all, you hadn’t expected him to disregard you like that, especially during an auction so crucial to him. You were valuable to him, weren’t you? He needed you by his side, didn’t he?
Your thoughts spiraled until they were abruptly shattered by a loud bang. Before you could process the sound, part of the building in front of you exploded in a fiery eruption. Wait—was that the floor where the auction was being held? The very floor Sylus was on?
Without a second thought, you threw open the car door, sprinting toward the burning building despite the twins’ frantic shouts urging you to stop. Your mind was consumed by one thought: Sylus. He couldn’t be hurt. He couldn’t die. Foolish girl, not even his evol could save him from an explosion of that magnitude.
Your breaths came in ragged gasps, sweat clung to your skin as you pushed your limits, charging up the stairs to the floor where you had been just forty minutes earlier. You stumbled multiple times, falling to your knees, but the thought of Sylus pushed you onward.
When you finally reached the floor, it was a scene of devastation. The area lay in ruins, engulfed in smoke and chaos, with scattered survivors struggling to breathe amidst the wreckage. You focused your eyes and ears, straining to find Sylus amidst the agonizing cries of others. Time blurred as you searched, exhaustion creeping in and threatening to overwhelm you.
Just when you thought you might pass out, you spotted it—silver locks, now dirty and disheveled, just a few feet away. Panic surged through you as you fell to your knees and crawled with the last remnants of strength you had left. When you finally reached him, your heart stopped. You had never seen Sylus so vulnerable, so exposed.
You reached out to touch his face, your irritation intensifying at the realization that you still had to keep your gloves on, unable to feel his soft, dirt-streaked skin. With the last remnants of your strength, you shook him gently, your voice coming out hoarse as you tried to call his name.
Slowly, his eyes peeled open, and you let out the breath you had been holding. Unfortunately, you had inhaled too much smoke, resulting in a violent cough that wracked your body.
Clutching your chest, you hunched over, trying to cough out the smoke while moving away from him. Just then, you felt his fingers wrap around your wrist, tugging you down to him. You attempted to focus on his face, searching for any injuries, but your eyes were tearing up, and your vision was blurred from the smoke-filled atmosphere.
Just as you thought you might lose consciousness, his voice broke through, shaky and hoarse but still as sharp as a knife. “What are you doing in here, kitten?” His eyes were half-lidded, and he groaned as he struggled to sit up. “Didn’t I tell you to wait for me outside?”
You tried to help him rise, but his heavy body only dragged you down, sending you sprawling onto the floor. As he noticed your condition, his eyes sharpened with concern, and his features turned serious. He began removing his coat, which was now dirty and full of holes.
“Sylus—you need to get out of here,” you urged, trying to push him away as he attempted to cover you completely with his coat.
“Don’t talk right now, sweetie.” His movements were urgent, almost desperate, as he made sure no part of your upper body was exposed. Your hands were now firmly pinned to your torso beneath his coat. “And don’t fight me.”
His fingers came to your face, squeezing gently until your lips formed a pout and your attention was solely on him. “Stubborn little kitten,” he muttered, his voice a mix of frustration and affection.
Just before you slipped into unconsciousness, you felt the tendrils of his red-black mist enveloping you, pushing through your evol’s resistance and carrying you away from the chaos.
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When you finally opened your eyes, it took a moment for your surroundings to come into focus. The unmistakable scent of Sylus’s mattress enveloped you, grounding you in reality. You were back at the mansion.
Your limbs felt heavy, and a dull ache throbbed in your head. Every part of your body screamed for you to stay in bed, to drift back into sleep and forget everything that had happened before you lost consciousness. But your mind was fixated on one thing: Sylus.
With a groan, you attempted to sit up, quickly glancing over your body. To your relief, you realized you were freshly cleaned and dressed in one of your nightgowns, with no significant injuries aside from a few scratches on your skin.
You took a moment to steady yourself, ensuring your vision wouldn’t fade to black before you attempted to walk across the room toward the door. Sylus’s office was just down the hallway, and as you stepped outside, you could faintly hear Luke and Kieran’s voices drifting from inside. You paused, heart pounding, and when you heard Sylus’s gruff tone, a wave of relief washed over you. He was okay.
After a brief moment, you knocked once before turning the doorknob and peeking through the small opening. Sylus’s gaze met yours immediately, and the twins turned to regard you with their rare smiles. It wasn’t often they dropped their masks, even in the mansion, but now their boyish features shone through. Their red hair was pulled back into matching messy ponytails, and a hint of blush colored their cheeks as they took in your appearance in the gown.
Sylus coughed discreetly, and the twins exchanged glances before standing up to give you two some privacy.
As they made their way to the door, Kieran paused to ruffle your hair playfully, leaning down to whisper in your ear, “You gave us a scare there, little crow.”
You regarded both twins with a small, apologetic smile before turning your full attention to the white-haired man seated behind his desk. He still wore his torn shirt, which left his muscular frame fully exposed. With a languid movement, he rolled his chair away from the desk and beckoned you with a finger.
Taking slow, deliberate steps toward him, you felt a wave of self-consciousness wash over you as his intense gaze roamed over your form. Despite the butterflies in your stomach, you approached and stood before him, his legs slightly apart, causing your knees to brush against the inside of his thighs as he looked up at you.
Your eyes fell to his toned chest, now marred with scratches and bruises—evidence the damage inflicted, perhaps a sign that he was running low on evol energy and unable to heal completely.
“Are you okay?” Your voice emerged as a barely audible whisper, still tinged with hoarseness. You clasped your hands behind your back, fidgeting awkwardly.
You weren’t quite sure what had come over you; you had never before found yourself in a situation where you needed to actively express your concern for Sylus until tonight, and you hoped he wouldn’t recall too much of what had transpired in that building.
“Worried, kitten?” he asked, a small smirk curling at the corners of his lips as his gaze swept over your body. His fingers twitched with the urge to reach out and touch you, yet he seemed equally torn, grappling with the worry that had gripped him when you had passed out in his arms.
You sniffled softly, your eyes darting anywhere but to him, your body tense and rigid as if your bones were locking into place. Instead of answering his question, you opted to redirect the conversation. “Do we know what caused the explosion?”
His expression was unreadable, and you noticed his jaw tick slightly as he processed your words. After a moment, he exhaled slowly, raising his hand to brush his knuckles gently across your arm. A shiver coursed through you at the contact, and you could see the corners of his lips curl slightly at your reaction. This time, he didn’t bother to hide himself from you.
“I did.”
“What?” Your voice came out louder than intended, earning a deep, rumbling chuckle from Sylus. He relaxed further into his chair, locking his carmine eyes onto yours with an intensity that sent your heart racing.
 “What are you talking about, Sylus? When I came in there…” It was becoming increasingly difficult to mask the emotion in your voice. “When I came in, you had fainted. What would have happened to you if I hadn’t found you in time?”
Amusement danced freely in his eyes at your small outburst. You truly were exquisite in your concern. “You underestimate me too much, sweetie.”
“You’re the one underestimating your enemies, Sylus!” You raised your voice, your hands gesturing in disbelief. “Just because you’re the leader of Onychinus doesn’t mean they can’t get to you if you’re unconscious.”
“Burnt men can’t walk, kitten.”
A small gasp escaped your lips at the speed and bluntness of his response. His smugness only fueled your anger at his reckless behavior. Leaning down, you gripped the arms of his chair, effectively caging him in. You were about to respond when you suddenly realized the position you had put yourself in. It gave him a full view of your breasts, the fabric of your nightgown flowing away from your skin and leaving little to the imagination.
Your ears and cheeks burned a deep crimson as you tried to pull away just as quickly as you'd leaned down. However, Sylus’s arm had already wrapped around your waist, anchoring you in place and pulling you impossibly closer. Your breath hitched when you noticed the way his pupils had dilated, his lips parting slightly as he fixated on your slowly hardening nipples.
“Sylus…” Your voice was barely a whisper now, heat pooling in your core under his intense gaze.
Finally, Sylus’s eyes met yours, and he began to stroke your back slowly, his tone low as if he feared shattering the delicate bubble that enveloped you both. “The explosion; It was my plan all along. Why else would I want you out and away from the building, sweetie?”
A frown crossed your face at his admission. Despite your initial shock, your body grew more compliant under his gentle strokes as he pulled you in, guiding you to straddle his thigh. His red irises darkened just a bit when your pulsing core made contact with his jeans and you felt a rush of heat flood your cheeks at the realization that he could probably feel just how wet you were.
Yet, he continued speaking, his voice smooth and steady. “Tonight had no other way of going. It was necessary and inevitable.”
“But why?” Your eyes had softened since you’d first entered his room, and you found yourself relaxing more beneath his touch as he explained the events of the night.
“Because, kitten, tonight’s transaction was off the table the moment it was proposed by the other side, a few days back when I was still away."
By now, confusion began to cloud your understanding of Sylus’s motives. “But…” Your gaze drifted to his desk, where numerous files lay scattered. “Is this why you came back earlier? Tonight’s transaction was for that protocore you needed, Sylus. I thought nothing could screw this up for you. Weren’t you after it for years?”
Sylus let out a small scoff, his lips pressing into a thin line as he studied your face intently. “You never asked me what the price of that protocore was, kitten.”
Curiosity piqued, you looked up at him again, instinctively leaning closer. Your breasts brushed against his chest, heightening the tension between you as if his answer were a secret he needed to share. “And what was the price?”
“You.”
Your eyes widened in shock, and a dark cloud crossed his features as he spoke. His grip on your waist tightened slightly, causing you to squirm on his thigh, which elicited a low grunt from him.
Your emotions were a chaotic mess, thoughts swirling together and leaving you breathless as you tried to process what he was implying. “So what you’re saying is…”
“The deal was off the table the moment they thought you were for sale.” Sylus’s leg bounced suddenly, and you couldn’t suppress the moan that escaped your lips. Your hands instinctively flew out to clutch the fabric of his open shirt for stability. “I came back because I had to send a message.”
His voice dripped with malice as he continued to move his leg, sending shockwaves of sensation through your core as it ground against his thigh.
The pleasure mixed with confusion made you feel light-headed; even if you wanted to resist, your body had already betrayed you. There was no stopping your hips from chasing the friction, no way to quell the whimpers that escaped your lips. Sylus’s fingers curled tighter around the fabric of your nightgown at the sound.
As you continued to grind against him, he spoke with a dark intensity. “They had to know, kitten; Nobody lives to say they tried to bargain with what belongs to me.”
“I—I don’t belong to you,” you breathed out, unsure whether you were trying to lie to him or to yourself.
“Is this why you’re drenching my thigh, sweetie?” As if to emphasize his point, he bounced his knee again, causing it to press against your sensitive nerves with a force that made you moan involuntarily, your head falling to rest on his shoulder.
“You poor thing,” he cooed in your ear, his hand sliding to your lower back, urging you to grind down against him.
“Tonight—you put yourself in danger, Sylus.” You struggled to form coherent thoughts as you chased your orgasm on his thigh, your mind slowly turning to mush. “That was so stupid, even for you.” You finished your sentence with a moan, and Sylus groaned, instinctively moving his hips upward, his own hard-on seeking friction.
“Were you worried about me, kitten?” He dipped his head to your neck, his lips leaving open-mouthed kisses as he awaited your response, which never came. Sensing your hesitation to voice your concern, his hand slipped between your bodies, his fingertip pressing onto your throbbing clit, making you cry out. “Answer me.”
“I—yes. Yes, I was s'worried.” Your head fell back in bliss, granting him access to suck and nibble on your throat as your hips moved faster and harder. The tight coil in your belly was only a few movements away from bursting. “I thought I’d—”
“Go on.” Sylus urged, his fingers dancing over your clit as he bounced his knee in sync with your movements, relishing the way you were making a mess on him, your whole body heating under his touch.
“I thought I’d lost you.” The words escaped your lips just as your orgasm washed over you, making your vision go black and your entire body shake with its intensity. Sylus’s arms wrapped around you, caging you against his chest as he let you ride it out, offering the small comfort you sought after your confession.
When you finally came down from your high, you were breathless, panting, and a few tears had escaped your eyes. But he was there, holding you gently and running his fingers through your hair. “I’m not that easy to get rid of, sweetie.”
You pushed your head off his chest, your eyes meeting his soft red ones. Without thinking clearly, you reached out to cradle his face. The moment your fingertips made contact with his skin, his whole body visibly flinched, and just like his heartbeat, it felt like time had stopped.
Horrified and regretful, you realized you had let your emotions get the best of you and forgotten about your evol. You stood up from his lap, pressing your hands tightly against your chest, the sound of your own heartbeat pounding in your ears.
Just a few seconds. Just a few seconds, and he’ll wake up, like he always does, right? Doubts gnawed at you; he was so weak after tonight, but his evol would heal him. It had to.
Just when you were about to scream for help, Sylus’s chest began to rise and fall again. His eyes fluttered open, and relief flooded your entire being. Your shoulders slumped, and your body shook, even though he was alright. How could you have been so careless?
“Sweetie.” His voice was soft as he stood from his chair, towering over you. “Look at me.”
You tilted your head up hesitantly, your regrets gnawing at you for what you had just done. You tried to open your mouth to apologize, but no words came out; instead, his lips found yours, silencing any sound you might have made. He threaded his fingers through your hair, pulling gently to angle your head to the side and deepen the kiss until you thought you might faint from lack of breath.
This time, you made sure to keep your hands glued to your sides, not daring to touch him again. When he finally pulled away, you were both panting. He rested his forehead against yours and moved his hand to the back pocket of his pants, retrieving something.
You tilted your head to watch him unfold two pieces of leather gloves. He carefully took your wrist, drawing it toward him before placing the glove on your hand, then moved to the other to do the same. It was a temporary solution, one that frustrated you to no end, but you wouldn’t jeopardize his life just for a touch of his soft skin.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your thoughts crashing over you like a tsunami of negativity at the prospect of harming him. Your frustration only fueled your desperation, and you found yourself clawing at the remnants of his shirt, trying to pull him closer. “I need you, please, Sylus, ’m so sorry.”
Sylus groaned as he felt you tugging him nearer, his own hands finding refuge on your body, touching and caressing anywhere he could reach. “Are you sure, kitten? Once we start, I don’t know if I can hold back.” His voice was low and controlled, while your legs trembled with desire and need.
“Then don’t hold back. Give me everything you have. I can take it, Sylus.” You pressed kisses all over his exposed chest, making him gasp and thin his patience. In one swift motion, you found yourself lifted off the floor, your body cradled in one of his arms as he carried you toward his desk.
“You really know how to bring a man to his knees, sweetie.” He placed you gently on top of the desk, taking his position between your legs. Your lips connected again as his hands deftly worked to rid you of your clothes.
Once you were bare before him, he stepped back, his gaze roaming over your body like a starving man taking in a feast. “Breathtaking.”
He fell to his knees in front of you, throwing your legs over his shoulders with a force that sent you backward, your elbows bracing against the desk for balance. He was too impatient to tease; he dived right in, his tongue lapping at your folds with urgent fervor.
Your back arched immediately, moans and whimpers spilling from your lips as he worked his mouth on your cunt, devouring you as if you were his last meal. Your legs tightened around his head, the pleasure overwhelming, which only made him groan and feast on you harder.
His tongue plunged into your tight hole, sending shockwaves of sensation coursing through your body. You thought you could hold on a little longer, but when his large hand spread across your tummy, pressing down, you exploded in his mouth. Your vision went white as you drenched him, your thighs shaking violently around his head.
The realization of what you had done hit you when he pulled away, his chin and exposed chest glistening with droplets of your release. You shot your gloved hand to cover your mouth, your legs instinctively closing in embarrassment.
Yet, he looked even more exhilarated, his hands gripping your thighs and spreading them apart as he positioned himself between them, his lips finding yours once more. “You’re going to do this again. And this time, you’re going to do it on my cock.”
He pushed you back, a firm hand on your chest as you lay spread out on top of his desk. Your eyes focused on his hands as they deftly undid his pants, pushing them down along with his briefs. The moment you saw his girthy cock—veiny and the tip angry and red for you—your mouth went dry.
You craved to satisfy him as he had satisfied you, but when you tried to sit up, his hand pressed you back down against the desk.
“Not tonight, sweetie. Right now, I just need to be inside you.”
Even though he spoke, he made no move to get on you, waiting for your consent first. You nodded, your eyes clouded with lust.
“Use your words, kitten. I need to hear you.” He was pumping his cock with his hand, his fingers barely wrapping around it. Standing before you in all his naked glory, he resembled a Greek statue, and your chest tightened at how wickedly beautiful he looked.
“Yes. Please, Sy, need you inside me.” Your voice came out breathless, and that was all the confirmation he needed. He wrapped an arm around your thigh, pulling you to the edge of the desk and throwing one of your legs over his shoulder to spread you open exactly as he desired.
He pushed the tip in at first, making you clench around him instinctively, as if trying to suck him deeper. An unsteady breath escaped him, and his body stuttered momentarily. You were killing him in the sweetest way. “So goddamn tight.”
Your eyes rolled back in pleasure as he pushed further inside you, his grip on your thigh tightening the moment he was fully buried in you, his pelvis pressing against yours. You could feel him all the way up into your stomach, and your legs began to shake, even though he remained still.
His breathing had turned erratic, and the moment your hips squirmed forward, his other hand came down to keep you in place. “Shit, baby, don’t move. Give me a moment.”
You were a whimpering mess, sweat beading on your forehead from the anticipation. But the instant he started moving, your whole body unlocked, turning to pudding under his thrusts. He began with a slow, deliberate pace, his lips parting as small grunts escaped him, each thrust igniting the fire building within you.
The more you clenched down on his cock, the faster he moved, until the desk scraped against the marble floor. “Fuck, kitten. You’re squeezing me so tightly.” His voice was thick with lust, and the sound of skin slapping against skin only intensified the fire burning deep in your core. “Do you love my cock that much?”
Your mind had turned to mush, thoughts consumed by how he stretched you and filled you to the brim. You nodded uncontrollably, crying out every time his cock brushed against your sweet spot. “Yes! I love it so much, Sy.”
“Good girl.” Sylus’s thrusts quickened as he heard your pretty sounds, the way your walls sucked him in making his thighs tremble slightly as he felt his release drawing near. “Such a good girl, so cock-hungry for me.”
“Ah— fuck.” Stars began to form behind your eyelids, your whole body rocking on the desk. If it weren’t for Sylus’s hands gripping your thighs, you would have slid right off and ended up on the floor from his relentless force. The desk shook violently from his pounding, and you were certain the whole house could hear you.
Sylus’s hand reached for your face, his thumb brushing against your lower lip before slipping past it to press down on your tongue, making you clench around his cock instinctively. “That’s it, sweetie,” he breathed, his eyes closing and his head tilting back in pleasure as your cunt hugged him tightly. “Give it to me; I can feel how close you are.”
You were indeed on the brink, your whole body burning and trembling under Sylus’s powerful thrusts. But what sent you over the edge was a sudden knock on the door, followed by Luke’s voice calling out to see if everything was alright.
The moment you realized you had been caught, and Luke could turn the doorknob at any second to find you spread for Sylus, his cock pressing against your cervix, you exploded. Your loud moans were partly muffled by the white-haired man's finger in your mouth. The pressure you applied around his cock as you climaxed made Sylus falter, his own orgasm crashing over him with a force he hadn’t anticipated.
His hot seed coated your walls, filling you to the brim and spilling out of you, trickling down your thighs as he continued to thrust, ensuring every last drop found its way inside. You were a crying, spent mess on his desk, while he tried to catch his breath, slowly lowering your leg back down from his shoulder.
Luke was long gone from outside the door, having heard enough to realize what was happening between you and Sylus.
You could only look up at him with a small shared chuckle before he leaned down to kiss your lips, his newfound gentleness contrasting sharply with the intensity of the moment. “I believe they received a lesson about eavesdropping now,” he murmured, a knowing smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
ps; this story has the potential to delve into other parts, either of Sylus and reader in the future or of their shared past from the moment he found her. You can always comment and let me know if you'd like to see something more from this fic:))
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epicbuddieficrecs · 3 days
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Favorite Season 6 fics
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So these used to be called "Fic recs for my BFF", but unfortunately I was unable to sway her to buddie, so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ these are just for me now (and you guys too I guess 😅)
Season 6
🔥Curl Up in My Heart and Let Me Keep You by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Animal Transformation | 10K | Teen): When an orange tabby cat starts hanging around the Diaz house, Eddie doesn't think anything of it. The little guy's cute and cuddly, and seems to always know when Eddie's having a bad time. Weird how the cat's never around when Buck is, though.
🔥let the world have its way with you by fleetinghearts/ @shitouttabuck (Post-Coma AU | 54K | Explicit): “It’s just that—I died,” Buck continues, voice unsteady enough that Eddie wonders if this is the first time he’s acknowledged that out loud. “I died, and there’s so much more. There’s so much more I want to do, things I don’t even know I want to do yet, and I almost had the chance to have and live them taken away. I don’t want to die and regret missing out on everything else, Eddie.” “So let’s make a list,” Eddie says. “Let’s do them.” or, a bucket list that’s really about buck needing to make a change and an eddie who’s ready to do anything to see him fall in love with life again. it takes some crossing off for eddie to realise—the thing at the top of the list in his own heart? it’s been right here all along
🔥like a dog with a bird at your door by fleetinghearts/ @shitouttabuck (Post-S6, Getting Together | 51K | Explicit): The kid with blood pouring down his shins is not so far from the dog lonely enough that he thinks breaking his housetraining is worth it for the ten minutes of berating that come with it, the ten minutes of undivided, if reluctant, attention. Buck thinks, sometimes, that at least he wasn’t the kind of puppy that gets put in a sack and drowned at birth. He wasn’t always unwanted. And he isn’t anymore. or, evan “i love you like a dog” buckley has only ever known how to love like, well, a dog, but maybe eddie diaz is the kinda guy to give a flea-bitten mongrel a forever home
🔥Something Dumb to Do by glorious_spoon/ @glorious-spoon (Post-S6, Getting Together | 8K | Explicit): "Too bad we can't just date each other." Eddie laughs. "What?" "No, I'm serious!" Buck sets his beer down, the better to gesture with both hands, face lighting up, and Eddie just—he really loves the guy, okay. Ridiculous as he is. "It would be so much easier! You wouldn't have to introduce a new person to Chris—he already likes me anyway—and you could tell Pepa so she'll stop setting you up on dates that don't go anywhere—" "And what would you get out of this?" Eddie asks, grinning. — Or: Buck and Eddie try something out together. (Part 1 of homeward bound)
🔥find a way to you (if it kills me) by foxwatson/ @eddiediazes (Post S6E13: Mixed Feelings, Pining | 19K | Mature): It’s something about the way Eddie phrases it. Something about the combination of his words and the way he’s staring down at the floor, and the flush in his cheeks and the way he’s fidgeting. Buck thinks, abruptly, he’s going to ask me on a date. “Well I - wanted to tell you first, and I need someone to watch Chris, anyways - I know he’s getting old enough now he doesn’t like feeling like he’s got a babysitter, so I was hoping - sorry. Not the point. Uh. I have a date on Saturday.” Just as abruptly as his own hopes had come soaring up above the cloud cover of his own unawareness - they go crashing back down to the floor - to the basement, and into the mud. “A date?” Buck rasps out. — the one where eddie decides to start dating again, buck figures out his own feelings just a minute too late, and then he spends a week going through the five stages of grief
🔥Being Eddie by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Time Travel, Post-S6, Getting Together | 80K | Teen): When Eddie starts seeing a new therapist, he’s presented with the opportunity to revisit several days from his past and right regrets that still bother him. OR: Eddie goes through the time travel therapy process of the 2009 Canadian TV show Being Erica.
🔥 Evan Buckley & The Coma-Verse of Madness by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Coma AU, Multiverse | 58K | Teen): After being struck by lightning on a call, Buck experiences a plethora of alternate realities showing him different directions his life could have taken. Fighting hard to get home, Buck learns what, or who, is important to him in every lifetime.
🔥 Both Blade and Branch by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Post-S6 | 62K | Mature): The chances of being struck by lightning twice are incredibly minute, but Buck still manages to pull it off. During a double date with Marisol and Natalia, nonetheless. Eddie manages to resuscitate him, but as Buck recovers from yet another trauma, Eddie can’t help but notice there’s something very different about him. He’s not quite sure what version of Buck he got back.
🔥 where all of the people dancing and clapping would greet me with such warmth by trysetmeonfire/ @try-set-me-on-fire (Season 6, Magical Realism | 15K | Mature): In the fall, Buck begins to disappear. (or: Buck can see that people become transparent when they're about to die) (Part 2 of All I Am, All That I Am)
🔥 Ace of Hearts by glorious_spoon/ @glorious-spoon (Post-S6, Getting Together | 9K | Teen): "I've been wondering…" Maddie pauses, watches Buck make a face like he's bracing to be smacked. "What happened with Eddie? You two were dancing around it for so long, and then… what, it just didn't work out? Was the date really that bad?" She's expecting another wince, or even for him to duck out of the conversation entirely, but instead Buck is staring at her like she's grown a second head. "Maddie. I've never been on a date with Eddie." Or: the poker game was a date. It takes Buck a while to catch on, though.
🔥 situations, circumstances, miscommunications ( i just may like some explanations ) by heartbeatdiaz / @lonelychicago (Didn't Know They Were Dating | 4K | Teen): "You didn't know?" Eddie asks, calmer but not less confused. He frowns. "How could you not know?" "You never said anything?" Buck tilts his head to the side. "We were dating?” “I guess not,” Eddie sighs. His heart is beating a little faster, an unpleasant buzz beneath his skin as he all but chokes on a feeling he can’t quite name— it could be hurt or disappointment or maybe a mix of both. In that moment, he knows three things very clearly. 1. Buck is going to be the death of him. 2. He is in love with the most dense, most oblivious man on planet Earth. 3. He is too gay and, honestly, too old for this shit.
🔥listen to you breathing (is where I wanna be) by Yavilee/ @theladyyavilee (Presumed Dead | 41K | Teen): The thing is – and Eddie should have known this, has been taught this cruel lesson over and over and over again – the thing is most of the time the worst day of your life will start like just any other day. A million small moments, so familiar and mundane you almost don’t even notice them slipping by - until you would give anything to go back and get just one more. (You can’t.) — Or the one where Buck is presumed dead after a building collapse and Eddie has to live through the reminder that tomorrow isn't promised to anyone
🔥Eddie Diaz vs The Feelings by ElvenSorceress/ @elvensorceress (Season 6, Sexuality Crisis, Demisexual Eddie | 62K | Explicit): Eddie dives into the mysteries of attraction, romantic love, and asexuality because there's a good chance he's fallen in love with his best friend. AKA demisexual!Eddie figures out he’s demi and finds the happily ever after he’s been longing for
🔥tomorrow will always and forever now be today (tomorrow is our always and forever) by withmeornotatall/ @chronicowboy (Post-S6, Time Loop | 43K | Mature): "Think I can get a hug from my best man on my wedding day?" he asks, quietly hopeful in a way that makes Eddie want to tear off his skin. "Sure," Chris replies with a shrug, turning to throw Eddie a cheeky grin. "Dad, Buck needs a hug." Two things happen at once then: Eddie has to plaster on a smile authentic enough to convince the one person on this planet that knows him inside out—except he doesn't really have to fake his smile, not at first, because of number two—he sees groom-Buck for the first time. And groom-Buck is every bit as beautiful as Eddie might have imagined him over the years. For a moment, Eddie falls into the greatest betrayal his brain has ever laid out for him, imagining that he might have got to see Buck like this for the first time from the other end of the aisle— (OR: eddie gets trapped in a time loop on the day buck marries natalia)
🔥 Muscle Memory by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Post-S6, Amnesia AU | 40K | Teen): After a disappointment in his personal life, Buck wakes up one morning to find everyone he loves has forgotten him completely. No memories. No recognition. Almost like he was never really there.
🔥 but i can see all along, love (it was you all the way down) by diazchristopher/ @captain-hen (Post-S6, Time Loop | 28K Mature): He puts his laptop away after a bit, and paces the length of his apartment as he tries to take stock of the situation at hand. One: The date is March 22nd, 2024. Two: It has been March 22nd for 3 days now. Three: Buck is trapped in some kind of time loop that is forcing him to relive this day. Four: Eddie is, apparently, in love with him. And. And. Five: Buck doesn’t feel the same way.
🔥 a blaze in the dark by woodchoc_magnum/ @woodchoc-magnum (Post-S6, Eddie Coming Out | 117K | Explicit): Set post-Season 6, where Buck has inadvertently sacrificed his friendship with Eddie in order to focus on his new relationship with Natalia, and is shocked when Eddie comes out to the team and subsequently reveals that he is dating a guy.
AUs
🔥Nothing Left But You by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars ("Blip" AU, Post-S4E13: Suspicion | 27K | Teen | Warning: MCD): In May of 2021, 25% of Earth's population suddenly disappears. Including Eddie. In May of 2026, they all come back. Eddie finds himself suddenly in the middle of a world he doesn't recognize, where the people he loves most have changed significantly.
🔥 Your Love is an Oil Slick (It Glows like Rainbows, It Stains My Soul) by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Canon Divergent - Supernatural Elements, Ghost Buck | 67K | Explicit): When Eddie's son claims he has an imaginary friend, Eddie doesn't think much of it. Christopher is seven, it's what kids do. But then weird things start happening around the house, and Eddie starts dreaming about a handsome blue-eyed man. Turns out, Christopher's friend isn't so imaginary. Their house is haunted.
🔥like when the sun came out by spaceprincessem/ @spaceprincessem (Canon Divergent, Ghosts | 39K | Mature): He completely pulls the charger from the wall as he fumbles to put in his passcode. He doesn’t know who to call first. Everyone is busy, carrying on with their lives and Buck is stuck here in the loft with the terrifying ghost of his childhood like an omen. Out of the corner of his eye he catches the Crooked Smiled Man now standing in the dark entrance way to his bathroom. He swallows around the taste of blood in his mouth, hands shaking, useless as his list of contacts blur beneath the burn of tears. Eddie Eddie Eddie. He doesn’t know where the feeling comes from, but it’s sudden and sharp and excruciating. Eddie is the first name at the top of his list, his most recent calls and texts, and he doesn’t hesitate to hit the call button. [or buck can see ghosts au]
🔥All My Shattered Oaths by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Vampires AU | 107K | Explicit): Eddie wants to stay away from his family’s legacy and give his son a normal life. Buck’s desperate to find a way to get over the love he lost. Fate has other plans for both of them.
🔥 Further Than Blood (Or Than Bones) by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Vampires AU | 50K | Explicit): Once, Eddie chose to save a newly turned against his better judgment. Five hundred years ago, Buck was saved by a rescuer he thought was a hallucination. Now they're together again and about to find out just how far either of them will go to try and deny what they are to each other.
🔥 let it pour out of your soul series by Rianne/ @rianneeyre (Magical Realism AU, Witch Eddie | 3 works | 71K | Complete):
collectively unconsciously composed (S4E6: Jinx | 46K | Explicit): Or: in which the author re-watched Buck Begins and Jinx and thought: what if this was gayer and had actual magic?
that systematic drug (PWP | 5K | Explicit): Eddie’s mouth goes dry when he opens the door and sees Buck. He’s clean-shaven and with his hair carefully styled back, smiling at Eddie sweetly and a little teasingly. Buck is wearing his dark jeans and his light blue v-neck polo shirt, the one that’s tight enough that it shows off the bulge of his biceps and the definition of his pecs and abs. Eddie knows this shirt. Buck's favourite, because he knows he looks good in it.
something binding us together (Established Buddie | 20K | Teen): Or: Eddie plans a long-avoided visit to his parents, discovers some things about his magic, and begins to build his family a home in LA's witching community.
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Unexpected things you did that delight them:  
Riddle Rosehearts, Azul Ashengrotto, Trey Clover, Ruggie Bucci, Malleus Draconia
You learned proper tea etiquette for Riddle  
It starts out with you just listening to him correct others as they go throughout the various teatimes of Heartslabyul. How it leads to you thrifting a tea set from a local shop is hard to say, and it’s chipped a bit on the plates, but it holds, and the lady gave it to you for a far cheaper price than she should have. But it cleaned up beautifully, you filled in the cracks with some leftover clay and didn’t even have to repaint it! It was already in Ramshackle blue and green.  
It is embarrassing when he finds you quizzing yourself on the different spoons and plates, but the smile that blooms is worth it.  
You have no idea that when you invite him over for a tea party a few weeks after, it’s the first one that he hasn’t hosted himself. He borrows the same book from the library to brush up on his guest etiquette.  
“Prefect, what are you-ah! A lovely set. If you were needing to learn I would be happy to assist! What teas do you prefer? I will bring complimenting savories or sweets.”  
You carry glasses cleaner for Azul  
Assuming you don’t carry it already or if you don’t wear glasses. You and Azul usually spend a lot of time at Octavinelle but occasionally he will come to Ramshackle. He has since seen the work that you put into fixing up the place and the furniture you've built and appreciates it a way that the others can’t. Afterall, many of his own pieces are repaired or thrifted antiques for authenticity.
Lounging on the couch while listening to one of the jazz records he brought, you take the glasses from his hand when he realizes that he forgot his own cleaner.  
“Prefect, why would you have glasses wipes, you don’t wear any. Ah, you carry them for me. How thoughtful of you, my friend! I hope I’m not putting you out any.” 
You baked him a birthday cake for Trey  
Everyone gets nervous when Trey’s birthday comes around. How do you bake for a baker? He got past the disappointed feeling a long time ago though, perfectly prepared to make his own birthday cake.  
What isn’t accounted for you is pushing him out of the kitchen, declaring it against the rules for him to bake his own birthday cake. He could fight you on it, but he’s intrigued at this point on what you will make.  
What he doesn’t anticipate is a simple vanilla cake with a blueberry filling, a light buttercream frosting and candied violets and almonds scattered on the top. It’s simple but delicious and clearly just for him.
“You’ve got some real potential here. Where did you learn to make candied violets? You foraged and learned how just for me? Ah, that was too much for me. Thank you.”  
You clean Ruggie’s ears 
Ruggie does a lot of things to ensure everybody else gets taken care of, which means sometimes he neglects himself a bit. The showers got trashed over at Savanaclaw so he asks to use yours after a particularly messy Spelldrive Practice. As long as Grim can play with the disk in the backyard with the ghosts, it’s a deal for you.  
He comes out fluffy, hair sticking out in all sorts of places, which means you can see inside his ears and see the dirt still stuck in there. Offering to clean them wasn’t a big deal to you, you have to for Grim all the time.  
It gets awkaward for a minute when he lays his head in your lap, but as soon as the cotton hits the inside and starts wiping up all the dirt and grim, he’s putty in your hands  
“I swear they weren’t that bad but-oh. Oh that’s nice. I think I can hear colors now. And your heartbeat. What’s got you racing, huh? I didn’t moo. I did not!” 
You got pictures of his family for Malleus  
This man has pictures of himself and his parents up on the walls, but none of the rest of his family. So, you work with the ghost for a long time, getting candid shots and other bit and pieces and slowly pulling them together. When Malleus’s birthday rolls around, you actually feel nervous about it.  
When he opens his present, to see the photo album, he gets unexpectedly quiet and soft, scanning through the quotes and stories written off to the side. You give little tidbits of how you get some shots, especially the times where you were sure that Lilia knew but didn’t say anything.  
Some even had him! Silver putting him in a headlock during some play wrestling, Lilia tapping his nose while playing chess, a rare moment of him and Sebek reading together where the half fae is actually relaxed.  
At the bottom are small, framed photos of what you thought were the best ones. Silver in his armor, surrounded by animals and birds alike, his sword gleaming with sunlight, looking gentle and graceful and alert. Sebek on horseback, wind streaking his hair to his skull and grinning like a madman, his favorite stead racing fearlessly. Lilia leaning against the railing of the balcony of Diasomnia dorm and watching the sunset, eyes fond and pink in the dying light. 
“I can’t think of a single present I have ever received that has been as thoughtful as this one. Your heart truly knows a kindness that is rare, my friend. But you are missing. Let us take one together. A selfie, yes?”  
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lumosinlove · 2 days
Text
Write Me In
Part Five
~
His office felt weird. New York felt weird. Even being with Cassie felt weird. Leo was so groggy in his real life that sometimes, when he was washing his face or sitting in a meeting or grabbing a bagel for lunch, he wondered if he had just been sleeping that whole time with Finn and Logan. He wouldn’t put it past himself to dream up something like that. Leave it to him to think making dinner for two of the biggest names in the music industry was a daydream. And the kissing, of course, but he spent far more time thinking about salt water in Finn’s hair and the way Logan looked walking around the markets. It was all smeared gold in his mind. And then there were the dirty dreams which he kept accidentally thinking about in meetings.
The article was going to lead this month’s issue, which meant it would come out right as Finn and Logan started up their tour again. A crew was being sent out to Nice for the cover shoot and Leo had been so jealous when he found out that he’d had to excuse himself from the meeting for a moment. He missed them. He probably scrolled through their messages too much.
The thread started when Leo had settled into a cab and opened the app to text them that he’d landed, only to find an incoming FaceTime call interrupting him. Leo had saved their numbers under their initials—as if that would really fool anyone. So, when Finn’s first FaceTime had popped up, he’d been more than surprised to find difficult little rock star calling him instead, complete with a photo that Finn seemed to have taken himself—him and Logan basking in the sun, hair wet from the ocean and cheeks smushed together.
Leo had answered with, “and what’s Logan saved under then?”
Finn had just grinned and ran off screen—presumably to grab Logan’s phone because a second later, Leo got a text of !! from grumpy<3
Leo figured that was subtle enough to keep. He’d pushed his headphones into his ears and let Finn’s voice fill his head as the city rose up and greeted him in its sunset.
Somehow, without so much as a ripple, talking to them had started feeling like talking to old friends. Once a day. Twice a day. Photographs of their lunches and messy work spaces in between. When Leo received his fist voice memo, he’d had to lock himself in the bathroom at work and breathe a few times before hitting play.
“Hi, Le,” Finn’s voice said. “Okay—we’re writing today. Lo, hello, say hi.”
“Hi, hey,” Logan said, then let out a wicked cough. “Sorry, Finn made me do one of those ginger shots and I’m in hell.”
Leo covered his laugh with his hand.
“Shut up, it’s good for you,” Finn replied. “Okay, anyway. So, this is called—oh, I’m gonna be on the piano. But this is—and I’m gonna try to play it straight through.”
“Stop interrupting yourself,” Logan said, then it sounded like he got closer to Finn’s phone. “It’s called Neon Signs and it’s off of the new album, and we know your editor wanted you to hear one more song for the piece so—ouais. Go, Finn.”
“I was going to say I’m on the piano and on the album it’s also piano. So. There.” He laughed and played a few chords. “Okay. It’s about one of the times when we almost got together, but we didn’t. We were at a bar that we weren’t old enough for.”
“And Finn got us stuck outside because they wouldn’t let us back in,” Logan said.
“Fool them once, and all that,” Finn cut in.
“It was freezing.” Logan’s voice, then a pause. “And I kissed him.”
“Again,” Finn said, laughing. “Anyway, spoilers. Here we go.”
There were a few seconds of dead air. Just Finn breathing. Leo pressed his headphones against his ears and kicked up his volume in time to hear Logan whisper something in French and Finn hush him.
I wanted you to meet me outside.
We’re not old enough to drink, no, not quite.
And leaving this bar means risking getting stuck out in the cold.
But I said ‘follow me’ you said ‘all right.’
Pulling up your hood against the frost bite.
And now that we’re here, there are too many things I want you to know.
But somehow I can tell tonight is not when you’ll be told
That just the look of you beneath that neon sign
Sure is something to behold…
It’s soft and blue…
Like me and you…
Maybe I’ll do this forever,
Only kiss me when it’s snowing.
Cause at least it isn’t never,
Though I can’t see where we’re going.
If only that light from that neon sign
Made you see me
Just as brightly
Oh God
Where’s my,
Neon,
Bar sign?
One that you can read.
Put it over me.
Bathe me in signals and the arrows pointing where I want to lead.
“Oh,” Leo said softly to himself—reacting to the lyrics, but also to Finn’s piano. It was a meandering, sad tune. As if even the music wasn’t sure what its next note would be. The song took them out of winter next and through to summer. Into humidity, and strings lights and patios and dorm rooms, sweltering with the door closed and no AC. A goodbye—was this them going to college? And it was Logan singing. Fall and desperate for something to last. Finn fumbled a little on the piano, cursed softly, and despite the next sad lyric, Leo could hear Logan smiling. Instead walked into my own past. You’re sitting on the bed and I’ve never felt less or more alone.
Leo listened to it four times. It was hypnotizing. Yes, he knew the story. He’d been given the precious task of telling the story—but they were telling it, too.
Meanwhile, the article was going through drafts and drafts. He’d fought hard to keep the section about Logan’s market in. His editor hadn’t seen the relevance, and maybe Leo’s relevance wasn’t entirely music-based, but those markets were in the songs. Maybe not in so many words, but Logan was as gentle as his voice could be when he was there. He stood still in that space, listening to the rhythm and thrum of the people around him.
Sending cover shoot to you without me :/ Leo typed out.
Finn replied almost instantly: I’ll refuse to pose until you arrive.
Then Logan: I will lock them out.
Ha, Leo wrote.
No Ha. It’s my house.
I’m at the office—in the final meeting for the article. He thought for a second, then smiled as he typed out. Everyone’s so happy for you.
You are coming to our first show, Logan typed out, and then a few seconds later, ? accompanied it, as if Finn had forced it out of him.
I’m coming to a show. Not sure when yet, Leo said. I’m on another project and have to finish it up before—
His eye caught on his phone’s clock. Jesus. He’d been in here for ten minutes texting like a teenager between classes. Before what? Before I can come back to you. Before I can come home, before I can come back because I miss you.
The thrill that came from being able to know he missed them because he knew them was strong.
—before I can make it, he finished. Have to go back to meeting now
Finn sent him five rows or pink hearts, Logan said, we miss you, and Leo sat back down in his meeting with a smile on his face that earned him weird looks. Cassie stared at him until someone asked her a question.
~
“Okay, so you’re gonna spill all your beans now.” Cassie jabbed him gently with her fork at lunch. “Like. Right now.”
“I don’t have beans.” Leo tilted his bowl to her. “This is my mama’s chicken salad recipe. Want some?”
Cassie groaned. “Just tell me why you’re grinning at your phone like an idiot every chance you get!”
“I’m not.”
“You are, you are.”
“I’m not, I’m not.”
“Yes, yeah, yeah, yeah.” Cassie grabbed onto his arm. “Tell me.”
“I’m excited for them,” Leo said. “That’s all. I’ve always looked up to them, and this is a big deal.
“So we are talking about Finn and Logan?”
Leo froze, caught. “Oh.”
It wasn’t his fault. They filled every little space of his mind. And if there was somewhere they couldn’t reach, they pressed up against that part, all warm and insistent.
Cassie threw her head back and squealed. “Leo. Tell me, tell me—”
“Oh-ho my God, they kissed me.”
Cassie stared at him, voice cutting off. Leo slapped his hands over his own mouth.
“You don’t know that,” Leo said quickly, just as Cassie made a soft, breathy sort of screeching sound.
“Wh-at?” she set her fork down with exaggerated precision. “What did you just say?”
Leo glanced around the courtyard they were in, but they were alone. In the shade, sun dappling down on them, and alone.
“They?” Cassie’s hand on his sleeve twisted the fabric. “They kissed you?”
He hadn’t meant to say a word, but the knowledge was like a fire inside of him. Being wanted like this. Being wanted by them.
Cassie started laughing, surprised and delighted. “Leo.”
“Yeah, they—apparently, um.” Leo shook his head. He didn’t even know how to say this. “They’ve been tracking my career since I just had the blog, and we were out by the fire pit and we almost—but we didn’t. And then we talked and I told them about Jack—sort of.”
Cassie’s blue eyes went wide at that, but she stayed quiet.
“And they sort of got why I was saying no.”
“You said no?”
“At first, at first.” Leo pushed his lunch away and dropped his voice. “Okay, okay, okay, sworn to secrecy.”
She squealed again through a shut mouth and hit him repeatedly in the arm.
“So, Nice,” Leo said. “Logan’s house.”
“Yeah, fuck you, by the way, meant nicely but with jealousy.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know. But, so that night happened where they made the move a bit—”
“What does that even mean?”
“Mm, hard to explain. They were actually—” Leo’s laugh interrupted his words. “They were so bad at it.”
“Finn O’Hara is bad at making the moves?”
“Only when he means it, apparently.”
Cassie’s waved him on. “Okay, more, I need more.”
“So, we talked it out at the markets.”
“Ah. That’s why you like those sections so much. It’s all coming together.”
“Shut up.”
“And they kissed you there?”
“No,” Leo said. “Logan kissed me, just once, and um…” Leo bit back a grin. “And then later, Finn. Mostly because—I mean we said we’d take it slow and Logan was just keeping that promise, but I may have lost some resolve with Finn because—fuck, because.”
“He’s Finn O’Hara,” Cassie said. “I think ‘fuck, because’ is a fine reason.”
“And that’s when he said they want me to come back once I’m off their project. I mean, I know I have the follow up piece but…then I’ll be done.”
Cassie had her chin in her palm, the way she sometimes did when she was thinking. “Holy shit.”
“Yeah.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah.”
She sat up straight. “Both…of them?”
Leo opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again. “Honestly, I haven’t been even…feeling strange about that. Is that weird?”
“No,” Cassie said, shaking her head. “I mean, not if it’s working. You’re not, like…jealous?”
“No,” Leo answered. It was the truth. “I know I probably should be.”
“They are basically high school sweethearts,” Cassie said. “Like, this article, the way you describe them…That’s soulmate shit right there. I don’t mean you don’t fit with them, I’m just…”
“I know where you’re coming from, but…” Leo sighed, smiling. “And I went there, too, but it’s just not like that. I like the way they are together. The way they treat each other. I like it as much as I like the way the are with me.”
“Holy shit,” Cassie said, then laughed. “Oh man.” She pushed her lunch aside in favor of pulling her laptop out of her bag. “Holy shit, holy shit, which show do you want? Which show, Le, I want to book that all out right fucking now.”
“It’s one night.”
“Yeah, well, it’s gonna be a hell of a night.”
Leo reached forward and grasped her hand. “Don’t even joke about that with me, I’m a wreck.”
“Yeah, well, you need all the help you can get. You were there for, what, three weeks, and you just kissed?”
“I am—”
“No, I commend you, cowboy, you just have eons more willpower than I do.” She raised her eyebrows at him. “Now, which show?”
Leo had been thinking about it. Of course he’d been thinking about it. He pictured them in different cities. Walking different streets. But, in the end, there was no question. Leo wanted to be where they had figured everything out. Maybe they’d figure out each other, too.
“Italy,” Leo said. “I want Italy.”
~
He was nervous to see them, that was for sure. Cassie always followed through on her work quickly, but Leo felt like he had blinked through being home before he was staring down at an empty suitcase again. Italy. Milan. It would be warm. He’d be there for a week. Something casual for the shows. Something nice for press events. Something comfortable for…mornings? He stared in his underwear drawer for too long. When was the last time he’d had to care what he looked like in his underwear, much less what his underwear looked like. That turned into staring at his t-shirts for too long, only to pick up his Heartthrob O’Hara t-shirtand fold it into his suitcase. Then he sat on the edge of his bed and googled Logan Tremblay t-shirt. They weren’t that good. Grainy photos just plastered on fabric. He typed in Night Swimming lyric t-shirt. There were hundreds, but Leo had fun scrolling. He’d probably added too many things to his cart when he finally found what he was looking for. The shirt was white with four words in forest green on it.
OH MY
GREEN EYES
Leo bit back a smile and ordered it to be delivered tomorrow.
The next night, he was cooking dinner and squinting at his iPad, when the recipe webpage disappeared in favor of an incoming call.
“Milan?” Logan asked when Leo answered.
“Yep,” Leo said. He leaned his elbows on the counter. “Is that okay?”
“That’s longer,” Logan said.
“I know,” Leo sighed. “But it’s when I’m in between projects and can write your follow up.”
Finn mirrored his position, squeezing into the frame beside Logan. “Why don’t you come here right now? I’ll write you a note, get you out of school. Photoshoot tomorrow, you can watch us kiss on camera.” Finn snuck a hand out to grab Logan’s chin when he wasn’t looking and turned his face to kiss him, even if Logan was smiling too much to make it last.
Leo leaned forward. “I…As tempting as that is...”
“I liked it when we were your job,” Finn shot back. “You were around all the time.”
“Oh yeah? Not me,” Leo said. Finn blinked, and Leo fought a smile because he’d got him. “Kissing subjects is…”
“Fun?” Finn said. “A right we may exclusively reserve?”
Logan looked over at him with a smile and Leo was tempted to take a screenshot. He didn’t know how that would go over. He’d never taken a photograph of them himself. He knew that spooked some celebrities. In the beginning, he’d thought he’d die if he offended them. He still felt like that a bit.
“Shut up,” Logan said to Finn. “We don’t want to be Leo’s subjects.”
“I was kidding.”
“Listen,” Leo said. “It’s a right you can reserve, I’d just prefer you do it as you and not as Night Swimming.”
“Deal,” Finn said. He put his palm over the camera briefly, as if they had shaken on it. “What are you doing?”
“I’m cooking dinner.” Leo said, mimicking Finn’s sing-song—and then realized he’d basically just sung in front of Finn and tried to forget about it. “What are you doing?”
“Waiting for you to come back,” Logan said.
Leo arched a brow. “To cook you dinner?”
“Non,” Logan laughed. He rested his chin on a palm, and Leo got basically an entire screen full of those green eyes looking over—him, he realized. Logan’s gaze darted over his face like he could do it for hours. “Other things.”
Heat washed over him, and Leo bit his lip. “Hmm…Play me more songs?”
“Can do, Sunshine,” Finn said.
They kept him company while he finished cleaning up, taking him through the packet they’d been sent concerning their photoshoot tomorrow.
“We’re doing it down by the sea,” Finn said. He was lounging on the couch, Logan at his feet holding a cup of tea. “And some house shots.” He tapped the leather couch. “Probably right here. Or the kitchen…Well, if it’s the kitchen, I know what I’ll be thinking about.”
Leo laughed as he shut his dishwasher. “Yeah, that kitchen gets a lot of action when I’m there.”
“Not when I’m there,” Logan said.
“Don’t worry, baby,” Finn said, running his fingers through Logan’s hair. “We’ve got a pretty good track record in Italy, don’t we?”
~
Leo didn’t sleep much that night. He usually didn’t before a flight. Something about the anticipation. Not that this was bad anticipation. He let himself drift and think, rather than fall and worry. Still awake, but lighter. The story was out of his hands now, gone to turn into paper and ink. He would write his follow up, but then…
Just three people, Finn had said. Just three people.
On his nightstand, his phone lit up his dark ceiling. Leo turned his head. There weren’t many people who could get through his Do Not Disturb. Part of him got nervous, wondering if something was wrong, and he propped himself up on an elbow quickly, pulling the phone off its charger.
you’re awake
Three words, soft as a whisper. From Logan. Just Logan.
A moment later came the ?
Leo rolled onto his back, grinning.
are you spying on me somehow?
Finn said you have trouble sleeping, came the reply.
I do sometimes, Leo sent. And then, do you not like question marks or something?
I just thought I was right
Leo laughed out loud, all to himself.
well, I am awake.
are you okay? Logan asked.
Yeah. Just thinking.
A bit of a pause, just long enough to make Leo bite his lip.
about what?
Leo typed his reply out slowly, carefully. Savoring getting to say these words. Getting more than one kiss from you.
An immediate reply. maybe I won’t ruin it this time
Leo smiled. I think the last thing you did was ruin it.
:)
God. Smiley faces from Logan Tremblay.
go to sleep so you get here faster, Logan wrote. or just get here now.
Job—remember?
:(
Leo laughed again. I do have a surprise for you when I get there.
what is it? Logan asked immediately.
“Classic,” Leo whispered to himself, but just sent a smiley in return. Then, after a moment’s thought—
goodnight, green eyes
~
The article, when it came out, was hot as lightning. The photographs were gorgeous. Natural. They turned into each other like puzzle pieces, dressed in the muted, gentle browns of the house, and then the bright jewels of green and blue. But it was the opening show that came after it that caused the storm.
Leo didn’t get a single bit of work done—but neither did Cassie, so it was fine. He had never watched a grainy live stream closer and made Cassie go out and get him lunch so he didn’t have to get up. He brought his phone to the bathroom with him. He’d never refreshed Twitter so many times to find new photographs and videos. Finn, getting a pride flag thrown up to him at one point. The moments when they shared the microphone now sometimes ended in a kiss. A kiss. Leo was laughing and choked up all at once. Logan’s hat said rouge.
“Is there a reason you didn’t choose that show?” Cassie asked.
He’d thought about it. Being there. He could have gotten out of work—not in a I’m sort of kind of dating them and suddenly I miss them every second please let me go way but in a…this is important for the follow up way. But. He hadn’t. Somehow, he couldn’t bring himself to.
“This is a long time coming for them,” Leo said carefully, and found it true. “This is something they thought they’d never have. It’s theirs. And I wanted them to have it more than anything.”
Cassie’s eyes softened. She’d wrapped her arms around him and squeezed. “They better know how lucky they are if they’re getting you.”
Leo smiled and tilted their heads together, turning back to the show.
“Well, fuck,” Finn’s voice echoed through the stadium as he sat down at the piano. “You guys know what song’s coming by now, I guess.”
Rooftop, Leo thought, and shushed Cassie so harshly that she rolled her eyes and knocked him lightly on the shoulder.
Logan was still on stage, though, and getting up from behind his set. Leo’s heart leapt right into his throat.
“Something’s happening,” Leo said. “Something’s happening.”
“You shush,” Cassie said.
“Or at least you thought you did,” Finn said, then leaned back and laughed, the microphone barely catching it over the answering cheers. Logan crossed the stage, taking his time. Finn made room for him on the piano bench seat and Logan slotted perfectly against his side.
“No, look,” Finn played a few chords. “Rooftop has a special place in my heart, but it’s no part of tonight. Tonight…” He looked at Logan. “Tonight how about a little duet, Tremblay?”
Leo knew these chords. He loved these chords. And now, he could think of the lyrics that were about to come. They were probably some of the first words written about both of them letting themselves have each other…It was perfect. The crowd knew the song, too, and they were manic when Logan started playing the piano’s lower register, almost like a bass to Finn’s higher, softer melody.
A crew member brought out a second microphone and fixed it over the piano. Logan thanked him with a nod, and leaned in.
“You should have seen Finn trying to teach me piano,” his voice echoed.
Leo leaned closer to the screen. “Oh my God.”
Cassie sorted. “You’re so smitten.”
“They’re playing Keep.” 
“Yes, I know, I am a fan, too!”
I see you in the morning staring out over the waves.
I find I don’t need my instincts, never thought I’d see the day.
I could just roll over, yeah, I could close my eyes,
Cause I don’t have to grasp at glimpses, no, I’ve got my whole life.
I’ll tell anyone who asks, 
“Harmony, harmony,” Cassie said, imitating Leo’s accent.
Leo wrapped an arm around her shoulders and put his palm over her mouth. But she was right. The harmony, Logan joining in on the chorus, was exquisite.
I’ll show anyone who wants to see.
Like sea glass, or pebbles found on the beach.
Oh God, look at what I get to keep.
I’ll hold it as long as my breath lasts.
I’ll say it in all the languages they speak.
Like histories or songs sung while out at sea,
Hey Sunshine, what do you say you keep me?
Cassie made a strangled noise before Leo could. She pulled Leo’s hand away from her mouth.
“Sunshine? He just—They just changed the lyrics,” Cassie said. She got her arms around Leo’s waist and shrieked, making everyone in the office look at them. “He changed the lyrics.”
Leo was going to melt into his keyboard. Or cry? No. He was going to love them.
“I see you in the kitchen just before we go to sleep—” Finn gave his head a little, sharp shake, smiling, and when he looked up, Leo saw that he was crying, unable to sing through it. The crowd filled in. I find I don’t need my instincts, you are mine to keep.
Leo touched his lips lightly. Leo wouldn’t forget that sound, the stadium singing for them like that, even through a video. Not ever. He wouldn’t forget the feeling of knowing how much Finn and Logan deserved it. And how much he wanted them to have this. And how sweet is was when Logan played the last note, Finn wrapping an arm around him and pressing a lingering kiss to his temple, and Logan catching Finn’s tears with a gentle hand.
Finn found one of the stadium cameras, touched a hand to his mouth, and held it out.
Oh God, Leo was going to really love them.
~
Leo could feel the change in the air the moment he stepped of his airplane. Humid, but light. He rolled up the sleeves of his button-down and put his sunglasses on as he stepped into the warm afternoon. He was a little groggy from his flight, but not too bad. He was hungry, though, and in desperate need of a coffee—which he was most certainly in the right place for.
“Mr. Knut?”
Leo turned, pulling his suitcase up to his side. A man was standing there, sleek in a light gray suit and a driver’s cap. He had a neatly tripped gray beard, kind eyes, and a light British accent.
“Yes?” Leo said. “Oh, are you—”
“Mr. Tremblay’s driver, yes. Ralph, it’s a pleasure.” Ralph motioned towards his suitcase. “Might I take care of that for you, sir, on the way to the car?”
“Oh, no, that’s all right,” Leo said. “But thank you. It’s nice enough of him to send you to get me. Very kind.”
“Yes, he was very keen. This way, sir.”
Leo followed him the short distance to the car park, remarking on the weather just because he wasn’t used to being called sir. Ralph was kind about it, offering small talk right back. The car was shiny and black, the windows so dark and opaque that Leo guessed that was why Logan used it. He stored his suitcase and laptop bag and stuttered around Ralph opening his door for him.
“Oh, wow—thanks so much.”
“Of course, sir.”
Leo slid into the smooth, leather seat. The whole car smelled new. There was a water bottle waiting for him in the door side pocket, nestled into a tortoise shell cup holder. Leo took his sunglasses off just as the door shut—
And then someone was grabbing onto his shirt and tugging. An insistent, warm mouth covered his, swallowing Leo’s sound of surprise.
Logan. The warm, pine scent of him. The feeling of canvas when Leo made to touch his hair. The weight of him swinging a leg over Leo’s lap. Callouses on his hands where they smoothed up Leo’s neck.
“Hello,” Leo gasped. “Fuck.”
“Hi.” Logan barely said the word before he was kissing him again. Leo had to let his head rest back against the seat he was so dizzy with it. His mouth probably tasted sour, he was probably sweaty, maybe he even smelled from the plane, but Logan didn’t seem to care.
“Where’s—”
“Sound check,” Logan gasped, and then he had Leo’s bottom lip gently between his teeth, pulling and letting go. “He’ll be at the hotel by the time we get there.”
“You don’t need—your sound checked?”
“I need this.”
From his place on Leo’s lap, Logan put a hand on the ceiling. For a moment, Leo wondered what the hell he was in for in the back of this car, but Logan’s fingers found a button that he pushed and up a partition between them and Ralph began to rise.
“Hotel, sir?” Ralph asked as the sheet rose.
“Merci,” Logan confirmed, and then the partition cut them off in a muffled, tinted-window bubble of their own making and Logan’s hungry green eyes were all Leo was left with.
Their breathing sounded loud to Leo’s ears. He got his first good look at Logan. White t-shirt, black cotton shorts. Green hat, backwards. Tan, gorgeous, just like Leo remembered him, but even more real. A small scratch on his cheek from somewhere. He’d cut himself shaving on his chin, a little red dot. Leo reached up and took off his hat, letting his bangs fall forward in their gentle waves. They were pretty light from all the sunshine.
“Can he…” Leo whispered. “Can Ralph hear us?”
Slowly, Logan shook his head.
Leo reached up and tucked his fingers through Logan’s hair. He could have lived off of the way Logan’s eyes slipped closed. “How long is the drive?”
“Thirty minutes.”
“Hm.”
Logan’s smile looked like one of his soft, lulling songs. “What does that mean?”
Leo didn’t answer. He’d been taken by surprise, but that was fading now. All it left behind was want and relief. For now, he was done with the distance and the florescent lights of his office. He was back in Logan’s arms.
Thirty minutes felt like five. Logan’s soft sounds filled him right up as Leo kissed his neck—that was when Ralph’s gentle knock from the driver’s seat came. Leo broke off, startled. His mouth felt puffy—and good. Logan’s warm weight felt like the only thing holding him together.
“Ouais,” Logan called. “One moment.”
As Logan leaned their foreheads together, the world filtered back in. Leo became aware of the sound of a crowd outside, and had to laugh.
“Are we about to be photographed?”
“Probably a little,” Logan said. “It’s okay. You wouldn’t believe how many times Finn and I have had this happen.”
“What, got a little heavy in the car?”
Logan grinned, ducking to kiss Leo again. “Mhm.”
“That’s…” Really hot.
Logan slid off his lap, back to his side. They both spent a moment trying to pull themselves together. Logan would have to get out first, which made Leo feel a little better.
“They’ll bring your bags to the room,” Logan said. He slipped on a pair of sunglasses. “Ready?”
Hands banged against the windows, making Leo jump. There were some chants of Finn’s name, along with Logan’s, and Leo realized they didn’t know who was in the car. “I—yeah.” The room. “I think so.”
Logan considered him for a moment, then took off his own hat and placed it, bill forward, on Leo’s head.
“Oh,” Leo said. “Do I look—”
“You look how I want you to look. Merde, I want Finn to see you.” Logan grinned. “But it may be a bit much for a photo.”
Leo reached up and touched the hat. It was green and had said the word LOVE on it. That was a story Leo wanted to write. Logan could say a lot with his hats. There were whole twitter accounts dedicated to the way he hinted at future songs or albums with what was on his hat.
LOVE. Leo was wearing the word love.
“I know I shouldn’t hold your hand quite yet,” Logan began, trailing off.
Leo laughed. “That would spark some wild rumors.”
Logan looked at him over the rim of his glasses, the shadow making his green eyes bright. “Stay close to me, okay?” He popped the car door and the sound of the crowd doubled, frenzied, screaming, yearning. “Stay close.”
Leo could hear his own heartbeat. He could feel it in his throat. He did want to hold Logan’s hand. “I will.”
And Leo experienced the cameras and fans from an entirely different view. He’d followed Finn and Logan around. He’d never walked with them, not like this. Not side by side in a way that signaled to everyone he was with them.
He stuck close to Logan’s back, as promised. He caught some curious looks, felt phone cameras trained on him. The sun was bright and he was very glad for Logan’s hat. He tried to take it in, if for nothing further than that this was the biggest crowd he’d ever followed a star through from this close, but it was over in a flash. They were in a cool hotel lobby, marble and stone, and a smiling woman, motioning them to the elevator. Logan’s two security guards got in with them.
The sudden silence was loud. Logan took his sunglasses off, casually folding them into his shirt and leaning back against the wall as they rose.
“Here we go, Tremz,” one of the guards said, fist bumping Logan as he passed him through the open doors. “See you tonight. Remind Finn the dinner res he asked for is at eight-thirty.”
“Thanks, Paul.” Logan looked back from the hallway. “Leo?”
“Sorry,” Leo said and strode forward. “Thanks—Thanks, Paul.”
Paul was a massive guy, but when he smiled he looked like a teddy bear. “You got it, man.”
There was only one door on this hallway, right in front of them with a large brass knocker, and no sooner had the elevator shut than did it swing open to reveal Finn—sweaty, in a soft looking gray t-shirt and running shorts, and grinning.
“Jesus,” Logan said. “You scared me.”
“I heard the ding,” Finn said cheerfully.
He was looking right at Leo. Leo drew Logan’s hat off, trying to catch his breath.
“There were crowds,” Logan said, as if explaining.
“Yeah,” Leo said. “Are you guys famous or something?”
Finn ignored the joke. He walked right up to Leo, wrapped him up in his arms, and held on tight. Leo had maybe been expecting a kiss—probably something a tad more obvious than Logan’s sneak-attack. But the hug was better. Finn was warm. He smelled like sweat and sunscreen from being on stage.
“Hi,” Finn whispered in his ear. He pulled back, holding Leo’s cheek briefly, then gently tweaked a curl of Leo’s blond hair. “Hi, Sunshine.”
Leo covered Finn’s hand, turning his mouth against it. “Hi.”
“Come here,” Finn said, laughing. “Come in.”
“Ouais.” Logan put a hand low on Leo’s back, guiding him through the suite door. “Where’s my surprise?”
“What surprise?” Finn asked as the door shut behind them. Sure enough, Leo’s bags were waiting there, neatly side-by-side near the small kitchen.
“Not till later,” Leo said.
Logan narrowed his eyes. “How later?”
“Tomorrow later.”
Logan huffed.
Finn came up behind him, pressing a small cup into his hand. Espresso.
“Oh, how did you know?” Leo sipped it down easily. Hot and slightly sweet with sugar.
“You’re in Italy,” Finn said. Next he was wrapping an arm around Leo’s waist. “You understand that if it’s a physical surprise, he’s going to dig through your luggage?”
Leo toyed with his delicate espresso cup.“Not if I say not to.”
Finn’s chin hooked over his shoulder. Leo could feel his laugh against his skin. His strong chest against his back. His hips— “You think he’ll listen to you?”
They both regarded Logan, who was still glaring at them—and glancing at Leo’s suitcase.
“I think he will.”
“Hm,” Finn said, and Leo felt a kiss land on his neck. “I think you’re right.” Another kiss to the exact same spot. Over a mark Logan had made? “I see someone has already gotten to you.”
“I was accosted in the car,” Leo said.
“Classic.”
Logan just rolled his eyes and began dragging Leo’s suitcase into another room.
By that night, the fans who didn’t read up on their music stories had already figured out who he was. Leo Knut—last seen on the road writing the coming out piece on Night Swimming. Sure enough, Twitter was full of wearing Lo’s hat wearing Lo’s hat???
“Ooh, you’re so undercover,” Finn commented when he glimpsed Leo’s phone once they were back in the car, speeding through the night on the way to dinner. “They don’t know what’s coming for them.”
Leo clicked his phone off even as Cassie texted nice hat. He looked at Logan, at a purplish bruise Leo had left on his neck. “No, they really don’t.”
Logan covered the mark with his palm and grinned out the window. Leo laughed, looking, too, then paused.
“Hey, are we leaving the city?”
“Yep,” Finn said.
“Where?” Logan asked.
Finn shrugged exaggeratedly. He’d changed into a dark blue button down, light slacks, and pretty brown leather shoes that Leo badly wanted a pair of. He’d pushed a dark green button down towards Logan, dark trousers, and white, pristine sneakers. He’d taken one look at Leo and told him he was perfect, but Leo had showered and changed anyway. Dusty red shirt. He’d followed Finn’s lead and left the collar loose.
Logan kicked at Finn from his seat across from the both of them. Finn just stuck his tongue out and took Leo’s hand across the console between them. Leo stared at it for a moment. Finn’s pale fingers that would be playing a guitar to thousands of people tomorrow were right there wrapped up in his own.
“Where?” Logan insisted.
“Jesus, Lo, can neither of us try and surprise you? I know you found all your presents as a kid, but you’re not finding the ones I give you.” Finn dropped a wink. “I’ll give it to you when I decide.”
Apparently where was a castle. Literally a castle. Soft lights flooded up the old stones to reveal turrets and archways. A man in a tuxedo was waiting for them at the entrance. They were given champagne in thin, airy glasses and leave to roam the lit gardens before their dinner was served. The air was mild, but the feeling of Finn and Logan at his shoulders was better. Finn had something to say about every flower, every piece of architecture, as if he had studied up for this night. They ate dinner under the stars, watching fireflies dart through the greenery.
It wasn’t until they had been served an array of desserts and left truly alone that Leo thought to bring up the article and how they were doing—it was different to ask without a screen between them.
“We’re so good,” Finn said. He looked at Logan, who nodded. Finn wrapped an arm around Logan’s chair, scooting it closer to his. Leo watched him lean into him. His brown eyes flickered to Leo even as his lips brushed Logan’s skin. “Lo?”
“Ouais, I…” Logan gave up on words and tucked his face into Finn’s neck, laughing.
Leo leaned back in his chair, glad the table let him stretch his still plane-cramped legs out under the table. “It’s so nice to see you up there. Really. I can’t wait for tomorrow. You just look so…free.”
“We feel free,” Finn said. “And it’s thanks to you.” He held out a hand across the linen tablecloth and, after a moment, Leo took it. “How are you, Le?”
Leo let out a slow breath, watching the way Finn’s thumb tracked across his knuckles. “I’m…” He laughed a little. “That’s quite a question. Really quite a question.”
Logan laughed, and when Leo realized he was laughing at him, he threw a sugar coated almond at him in a neat arc across the table—which lost all its effect when Logan caught it in his mouth.
“Non, seriously.” Logan leaned more into Finn’s side. “Leo?”
Leo looked around them. They both had a knack for finding these slices of paradise. Though, lately it had been feeling like any where they were was heaven, even his own kitchen.
“Being on tour with you was wonderful,” Leo answered. “And Nice was, of course, perfect. So beautiful…God, this is beautiful.”
“Why am I sensing a but?” Finn asked, brows drawn together. Logan looked downright nervous.
Leo shook his head, bringing his other hand to hold Finn’s as well. “No. Well, yes, but not like that.”
They both looked at him expectantly. Patiently.
“You’ve been sweet in waiting for me. And honest about wanting me.”
“We fumbled and recovered,” Finn said.
“We do want you,” Logan said earnestly.
“Well, I…I hope so,” Leo said softly. Finn’s hand tightened around his.
“Yeah?” Finn whispered.
Leo nodded. Logan couldn’t quite reach with the angle, but he reached for Leo, too, hand on Finn’s wrist.
“It’s been—what? A week and a half of video calls? You know all these glorious places are amazing, but when we’re just sitting around…I mean, when we’re just talking… Or you’re watching me wash dishes, do laundry. And I start to feel like…”
He felt the words well in his throat like tears as he looked between them. He understood Cassie’s hesitation. He understood his own hesitation. He’d been nervous that he’d come back and something would have changed. Like adrenaline leaving the system. But it hadn’t.
“I’ve never not known how to be without someone before,” Leo said. “But you make me feel like I don’t remember how to be alone.”
Finn’s smile was tearful and Leo realized he felt a little like that, too, even as Finn leaned forward and kissed him. It dissolved into a laugh, into kiss to his cheek. A piece of silverware clattered to the ground as Finn tugged Leo’s chair closer and hugged him as best he could.
“Rouge, you’re pulling the table cloth, the table—” Logan’s voice came, laughing. Leo heard his chair scoot back and then there was another pair of arms around Leo’s neck, Logan leaning over the back of his chair. He managed a sloppy kiss to Leo’s mouth, despite the angle.
Leo closed his eyes and held on. He waited for Finn to make him laugh. Or Logan to say something in French. But they stayed quiet, surprising him. He peeked one eye open, only to see that Finn, whose forehead was pressed against Leo’s temple, had his eyes closed, too. Leo didn’t dare move him to try and get at Logan, but the content sigh he felt against his neck was enough to go on for him. Wind whistled through the trees around them, bring the smell of some sweet flower. Leo closed his eyes again and leaned back into Logan’s shoulder and Finn’s arm. It was like a blanket, their quiet. They’d been more serene than he’d expected from the beginning—puzzles, dinner, reading, morning runs. This was something deeper. It was as if something unhappy had finally been able to settle for them, too. The questions were still there. How will this work? What will people think? But they were muted and far off.
They looked up at footsteps on the patio, only to find a surprised waiter holding a pitcher of water.
“Ah,” the waiter said. “Pardon me. Uh…”
“Hi,” Finn said, only lifting his head. “Yeah, we’ll take the check.”
~
They laughed about it on the car ride home, the waiter’s face. Speeding through dark hills, and then streets still filled with chatter and light. Leo watched out the window as they slowed in narrower streets. It gave him a glimpses of passing faces. Laughing, eating, kissing.
Finn’s hand pressed to his thigh. “Are you composing sentences right now? I think you are.”
Leo looked over at him. “Maybe. And you?”
“I’ve been watching you two write in your heads for the last ten minutes,” Logan said. He’d stretched his legs out so their feet slotted together in the car space between them.
“Well, no one got on my lap, I had to do something to pass the time,” Leo said, squeezing one of Logan’s ankles between his own.
Logan just looked at him with bright eyes. “I don’t want to have to stop.”
Leo let his head fall back against the seat and he put his hand over Finn’s. “You just deal with that every day?”
“All day,” Finn said. “You don’t even want to know the things he says to me before we go on stage.” Finn laughed and scooted over in his seat, pressing right up against Leo’s side. “Actually, you probably do.”
No one was waiting at the hotel this time. There were no bright flashes to catch what Leo was sure was an intense flush on his cheeks. They stayed close in the elevator, their security shaking their heads at how giddy they probably sounded—all that content silence had bubbled into talking over each other and far too loud laughter. Finn fumbled a little with the hotel key, but then they were inside the suite and met with a blast of AC. Finn went to turn it down, but Logan got his hands on Leo’s waist and pulled until Leo had him pinned right up against the side of the entrance hall.
“This is how I first met you,” Leo said, staring down at him. He traced a hand under Logan’s jaw and watched the way he bared his neck for more. “I was so surprised. And you were so beautiful. And also you literally did not stop making out with Finn which was, like, okay then.”
Finn’s laugh reached them. “I asked him that after you left. I was like, how long was he standing there actually? And he wouldn’t tell me.”
“What’d you want, Lo?” Leo whispered, leaning down to kiss him softly. “Me to walk in ready to go right then?”
“Non, I wanted to see if you thought I was hot,” Logan said, then laughed as Leo pulled back to follow Finn’s voice into the living room. He called after him, “And you do!”
Finn had his dress shirt half unbuttoned and his belt in one hand, frowning at something on his phone.
“You okay there difficult rock star?” Leo asked, trying not to stare at his pale chest against the blush color.
Finn looked up, all big brown eyes suddenly—how did he do that? Switch between unbearably hot to unbearably sweet in two seconds—and smiled. “Oh. This isn’t what it looks like.” He gestured to himself with his belt. “I just wanted to change. And yeah, just tomorrow’s call times.”
Call times. Show tomorrow. Leo took a breath. Right. What time was it? Midnight? One? Leo knew they should sleep. He’d seen them on the nights before shows many times now. Logan drank mint tea. Finn read. Unless they had friends at the shows, or family, they tried to get as much sleep as they could. Logan slept in as much as he could. Finn seemed incapable of sleeping in, but he went for a run and he ordered up a big breakfast. God, Leo wanted to make them breakfast again. He wanted the way they sat with him, looked at him, made him coffee.
Leo nodded. He emptied his pockets, setting his phone and wallet on a side table. “I hope it’s not too early? I know your routines the night before a show and this isn’t it. It’s early for me, technically. But it’s late for you.”
Leo’s eyes drew down Finn’s body again. The half-untucked shirt. He was pretty sure those socks he was wearing were the ones advertised on TV offering arch support. Why, why was that hot right now? It was. And maybe Leo wanted the way Finn looked right now to be exactly what it looked like. What then?
Finn was quiet, glancing at Logan as he came into the room and sat on the back of the couch to look at Leo. Finn drew in a slow breath, stretching his arms up and behind his head, so that when he spoke his voice came out tensed like his muscles—which Leo could see more of now, the sharp cut just above his waistline. “I mean, you could…” He grinned, dropping his arms and relaxing. “We could get you on the right time zone.”
Leo bit at the inside of his cheek. That wasn’t exactly the line he’d heard in Finn’s voice during all of his laundry-folding day dreams, but it was so very Finn that it was better.
“What did your team think when you said I’d be staying with you?” Leo glanced up around the room. “I mean, in the same…” Bedroom? “Suite.”
“They’re our team for a reason,” Finn said. “They know what’s their business, and what’s ours.”
Leo raised an eyebrow. “And my being a reporter isn’t their business? I bet at least a few people would disagree with that.”
“You’re not the kind of reporter they worry about,” Logan said. “Unless you suddenly revealed a long-range camera in your suitcase.” He tilted his head teasingly. “That’s not the surprise, is it?”
“No,” Leo laughed. “Definitely not the surprise.”
“And just to be clear,” Finn said. “Because looks like we’re not great on being clear—”
“Room, not suite,” Logan cut in.
“Jeez, way to grab my punchline and yank it out from beneath my feet.” Finn strode closer and put his hand on Logan’s shoulder. “But yes. We were hoping…I mean, there is another room. Two other, in fact, for you to choose from.” He tilted his head. “But I was hoping just your suitcase would be staying there.”
“We,” Logan said, rising from his seat.
“We were hoping.”
Logan stood in front of Leo. He held out his hands palm up, and Leo put his palms into them. Logan gave a gentle tug. When Leo hesitated, worrying the inside of his cheek, it took about half a second for concern to flicker over Logan’s face.
“Le?” he asked gently. “What…What did I do?”
“No, no, no,” Leo said. “Nothing. I want that. I really, really want that. I just…” Leo sighed, cursing himself. The nerves he’d felt while packing sprung back at him. Look at them. Look at them.
“It’s been a while for me,” Leo said softly. “I mean—I mean a while. And you two know each other—so well. I just don’t want…to, like, disappoint, or…”
“Non,” Logan said.
“You couldn’t,” Finn added. “Leo, you couldn’t disappoint us. Like, ever.”
Leo knew that. He did. He even believed it. It didn’t stop the idea that he would from making him want to crawl under the covers and hide.
“I’m looking at two people who know each other inside and out,” Leo said. “And I love that about you two. But—yeah. That’s all.”
Finn and Logan looked at each other. Leo didn’t mind the silent communication ability. He even liked it. It was sweet. In his dreams, he got that ability with them, too. One day.
Finn stepped forward. It wasn’t the stage walk. It was just him. Even in the button-down that Leo now knew to be the softest linen, it was just him. Not all the photos Leo had seen of fans catching him on the street—sunglasses, t-shirt, notebook or coffee…smiling, talking with them, and uncapping Sharpies with his teeth. Leo had looked at the photos from that particular day a lot. A lot. Summer in New York, headed to the recording studio, stooping so a girl could slip a necklace she had made him over his head.
“Okay.” Finn smiled softly. “There’s one thing we can do no matter what. It’s late. We can just get ready for bed and…and then whatever you want.”
Logan nodded. “Whatever you want.”
“We do know each other through and through,” Finn said. He tucked a stray curl behind Leo’s ear, but Leo felt it spring back into place. “Which is why we know how much we want you here.”
Leo shook his head, putting a hand against Finn’s chest. “You don’t have to convince me. I’m just…” Leo looked to Logan. “I…This is like a dream? A really good dream.”
“Leo.” Finn’s voice was overly serious, but Leo caught the spark in his eye. “Were we your celebrity crushes or something?” 
Leo’s laugh surprised him, head falling back. “Finn.”
“Aw,” Finn wrapped his arms around Leo’s waist. “I embarrassed him. Look, Lo, we were his celebrity crush.”
“First, I meant because you’re so sweet. And second, I’m pretty sure you could attempt world domination with the number of people who would name you if asked who their crush is,” Leo said.
“Maybe,” Finn replied. “But I only care about one.”
It was the little things, first. Logan left small pools of water all around the sink when he washed his face. He went to Leo’s luggage, and Leo only had time to call out a warning don’t before Logan was pulling out a t-shirt with a delighted laugh. Thankfully, it wasn’t his surprise one…But it was Finn’s.
Leo was brushing his teeth next to Finn O’Hara in Italy, and Logan Tremblay was holding up his HEARTTHROB O’HARA t-shirt with a grin on his face that said it all.
“That was also a surprise,” Leo said around his toothpaste. He groaned, and put a hand over Finn’s delighted eyes as passed him to go rinse his mouth.
When he leaned up from the faucet, Finn was there, rinsing beside him. Leo cleared his throat, laughing a little under the feeling of Finn’s gaze. He tried to escape, honestly he had no idea what to say, but two hands caught his hips and a hard, warm chest met Leo’s back.
They looked at each other in the mirror. The lights were soft and dim, bringing out each of Finn’s freckles. Leo put his hand over where Finn’s rested low on his stomach.
“I’m embarrassed,” Leo said, smiling down at the sink. “It’s stupid, right?”
With a slight pressure to his hip, Finn turned Leo around. Leo rested back against the counter’s edge, and Finn nudged his way to stand between his thighs. He carded Leo’s hair back from his face, the ends damp from washing his face.
“Nothing about you could ever be stupid,” Finn said.
Leo traced the N of his NASA t-shirt, then one of the trails on a shooting star. “You probably see people in that shirt all the time. Probably have signed that shirt a million times.” Leo closed his eyes. “Shit. I’d say I’m not some crazy fan, but younger me was definitely a crazy fan.” He looked up at Finn. “But you know all about crazy fans.”
Finn smiled a little. He barely had to tilt his chin forward at all to brush their mouths together. “I do know a little about that.”
“So maybe the shirt doesn’t even matter?” Leo asked hopefully. Finn’s brown eyes were staring at his mouth—that still had toothpaste on it maybe?
“Everything about you matters,” Finn said, and kissed him.
It brought back the rush of the ocean. The heat of the sun, sitting against those cliffs when Leo had been so confused, so in want. He knew how to hold himself together. God, if there was one thing he was so very good at in this world, it was holding himself together.
“Maybe I’m your crazy fan,” Finn whispered. “I’ve been stalking your writing for long enough.”
Leo laughed. “Mm, that’s true.” He reached up for Finn’s shoulders, pulling him closer.
He didn’t want to hold himself together anymore. He didn’t want to hold back. Nothing he knew even compared to this. Not the fame, not the novelty. This. Worn out t-shirts and getting to have a perfect fit in a legendary love like theirs. These were new muscles, letting himself go, and he’d been straining them with these two. They felt stronger now.
The band of his pajama pants was wet from being pressed back into Logan’s puddles. Finn tasted minty, and with him standing between Leo’s thighs like this, Leo got to tilt his head up into the kiss.
“How do I look?”
They broke apart to see Logan standing in the bathroom doorway. He wore a soft looking pair of gray boxers, and his chest and arms filled out Leo’s t-shirt in a way Leo had never, would never have even thought, to imagine.
While Leo sat there staring, Finn laughed. “That thing looks like it’s about to fall to pieces.”
He wasn’t wrong. There was a hole near the collar, the letters were faded at the edges. But it was so damn soft from years of being washed that Leo couldn’t bare to part with it. He reached up and pushed his fingers through Finn’s hair. That gorgeous red hair. Maybe there was so much more he couldn’t part with now.
“Ouais, me too,” Logan said. Leo didn’t know what he was talking about until he walked forward and reached up for Finn’s hair, completely messing it up. “Everyone’s obsessed with it, but how can you not be?”
Leo laughed as Finn squinted one eye shut but let them have their fun. It was soft and thick, the sorter strands at the sides feathering through Leo’s fingers like velvet.
Finn put a hand on Logan’s chest, tapping over the letters of Leo’s t-shirt. “I always guessed that was why everything they put my name in is red, too.”
“Marketing?” Leo said.
“Yeah.” Finn sighed, shrugged, then smiled. “Le, that shirt really is about to fall apart.”
“I…wear it a lot.”
“Oh yeah? All around the city with my name on your heart?”
Leo bit his lip. It was more than that. It was what he wore when he was sad, or had had a bad day. When he was sick, or exhausted, or angry.
And then, over the past month, that comfort had shifted to them. A bad day at work ended with four hour FaceTimes until Leo was too sleepy to talk anymore and Finn’s soft voice. Goodnight, Sunshine. And when he couldn’t sleep, somehow Logan always knew. The soft light of his phone lighting up his bedroom from his nightstand and never letting him feel alone or sinking or like he would never sleep again.
“Le?” Finn asked softly. His hair was a mess from their hands. His eyes were pure syrup again, asking, checking, worried—loving?
“Hi,” Leo said. “Sorry, hi.” He put a hand on Finn’s cheek and looked at Logan.
Logan tilted his head. “What are you writing right now, Soleil?”
Leo closed his eyes briefly at the nickname, leaning his head back to bask in it. “Dialogue, I guess.”
“Ouais,” Logan said, wrapping an arm around Leo’s waist. It completed the circle of the three of them. “Of?”
“How to ask you to take me to bed,” Leo whispered.
“Yes,” Finn breathed, and then Leo was being kissed.
He’d written a lot of words in his life. It was almost funny to be asked what he was writing right then. He wasn’t even sure this was something that could be written. What did kiss have on what Finn gave him? It was just what Leo remembered. The heated energy from that middle of the night kiss in Nice, only tripled.
“Hey.” Logan’s voice was low. Leo felt fingers tighten in his hair and he gasped, breaking Finn’s kiss long enough to be pulled to another mouth. The ocean and the shade. The shade and the ocean. Finn’s laugh echoed against the bathroom tiles. He was watching them. He had a hand on Leo’s back, and probably Logan’s, and let them kiss.
No, Leo couldn’t have written this down. Logan, pulling him towards the bedroom. Finn flicking off the bathroom light and leaving them in the yellow-pink glow of a reading lamp and the moon.
“I’d raise the sun if I could,” he said. He caught Leo up around the waist again. “Just because it’s dark in here doesn’t mean I want it to be.”
“Finn.” It sounded pleading, but Leo hadn’t meant it that way. Not stop. Not more. Just… “Have some compassion for how full my heart can be right now, O’Hara.”
And then Leo took that famous NASA t-shirt right off of him. The stars and the comet trails, they were still there. Finn’s torso was its own sky map and Leo, wondering what Finn liked, bent to kiss a trail of his own along one thin collarbone.
What words existed for the feeling of Finn chest rising and falling against his mouth.
What words could Leo have used to describe the smile Logan gave him as he let Leo pull his t-shirt off of him next? All Leo could comprehend was the sheer strength of his arms and the dark trail of hair that led down into his boxers.
There were no hesitations, like Leo had thought there would be. The pauses were woven in, just turns and folds and lifts like pages. Yes? This? Grins and breaths and—Logan’s sounds. Logan. Logan knew what he wanted. Finn knew what Logan wanted. Leo, very quickly, knew what Logan wanted and shared a slightly dazed grin with Finn about it. He got to watch Finn’s practiced fingers, and see how much Finn enjoyed giving Logan everything he could possibly desire. It was as sweet as it was unbearably hot. Finn looked so pale against Logan’s tanned skin. Marble. That was a word Leo had used before, but it applied. Jesus Christ, it applied.
What did grip have on the way Logan clutched at Leo’s shoulders when they were at last as close as anything could be, his thighs shaking against Leo’s. Bliss, certainly, was nothing compared to the look on Logan’s face when Finn’s hand pressed over the strong curve of his adam’s apple and asked him how he liked it, told him they looked gorgeous. Throbbing held nothing to the way Leo’s heart pounded, and more than nothing to how close those words brought him to the edge. Rhythm. That’s what Logan had. Leo set his hands against the small of his back—two dimples there, made for Leo’s thumbs—and held on.
“Mm—” Logan’s breath came out short and he froze, mouth open against Leo’s neck. His back was slick with sweat now. Finn sat back on his heels just beside them, working himself slowly.
“What you waiting for, baby?” Finn breathed. He’d not been moving much, but there was a sheen over his nose and temples, too. Just from watching. Now, he shifted behind Leo and wrapped his arms around his waist, nuzzling under his jaw.
Leo reached between them and Logan muffled his sound in Leo’s neck. Logan hadn’t been warm from the second he met him, but oh, he was warm now. Burning in Leo’s hands, against Leo’s body.
“I just want it to last,” Logan said shakily, but he was moving again, like he couldn’t help it. “You’re leaving in two days.” Logan wrapped his arms fully around Leo’s shoulders. “Don’t.”
“Don’t even know how—” Leo’s eyes slipped shut and he tried to breathe through the mix of white hot pleasure and blue tenderness pulsing through him. “How to think about leaving.” He smoothed his hands up Logan’s back, feeling the way it flexed as Logan moved against him.
“Ouais,” Logan said, a smile slipping across his face. He pulled back, his breathing jumping as their hips shifted. He kissed Leo hard, then cursed softly and let his head fall back. “Fuck…Leo…”
With his hair falling back and out of his eyes like that, Leo’s language left him entirely. He’d seen him like this on stage, lost in the music. He’d watched from the VIP booth, from the wings. Logan was closer to him than Finn was, always staying in one place. He’d seen the lights catch his every angle as he threw his head back, sweat dampening his dark hair, and played with everything he had. Tonight, Leo felt like theirs in that same way.
The sheets were kicked towards the end of the bed, or pooled on the floor. Leo’s head was on Finn’s chest, Logan’s forehead pressed to the top of his spine. Leo couldn’t stop touching them. He trailed his fingertips down Finn’s chest and watched goosebumps follow in their wake. Logan had a thigh thrown over his hip and Leo stroked the unbearably soft skin behind his knee. He dipped his thumb in the divot below Finn’s bottom lip.
Finn smiled sleepily, his eyes closed. His eyelashes were dark just now. In certain lights they tinged lighter, like his hair. “You’re ticklish.”
“You’re soft,” Leo replied.
“Is he asleep?” Finn whispered.
“Non,” came Logan’s voice, though he sounded part of the way there.
“I’m not kidding.” Leo reached back to hold Logan’s hip. “I’m getting up if I start keeping you awake with my tossing around.”
That was a lie. There was nothing that could haul Leo out of where he was right now.
“Nu-uh.” Finn kissed Leo’s temple. “No tossing. Not with the weighted blanket I have.”
“You travel with a weighted blanket?” Leo asked skeptically.
Finn reached out and picked up Logan’s hand, kissing his knuckles. “Sure do.”
“Oh,” Leo laughed.
“One-hundred percent effective, I promise.”
When Finn turned the lights off, it sent the room into near complete darkness and so Leo could do nothing but feel, in every nerve, and expanse of exposed skin, the way Logan nudged his nose into the soft hair at his nape, and the way Finn rolled onto his side to hold them both.
“Show tomorrow,” Finn whispered. “You ready?”
Leo smiled. “Do I have to be ready? I think that’s supposed my question to you two.”
“You have to be ready,” Finn placed a kiss to his neck. “It’s a Leo show.”
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loggiepj · 2 days
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To Love A Lannister
chapter 13 | chapter 14
"We'll arrive at Sunspear in a week's time," Oberyn announced, approaching you leaning against the railing on the quarterdeck, facing the vast ocean ahead.
Darkness had started to loom around the ship, waves almost as black as a squid's ink. The sun was almost a quarter visible as it was being consumed by the horizon, obliterating any light. The only thing shining across the distance was the red patch of sky encircling the edges of the sun. If it weren't for the torches surrounding the deck, you wouldn't be able to see the Dornishman standing beside you. "How do you feel about that? A lot has changed since we left home."
"Indeed," you said. "I thought I'd look forward to my warm bed and the fresh air of Dorne back home. Now, it seems like I'm terrified setting foot on some land I thought was my birthplace."
"You don't have to be," he assured you. "You're not alone, you know. And your sister is the Queen—"
"She doesn't even know who I am, does she?" You turned to look at him.
Oberyn shrugged. "She will. In time."
You sighed, avoiding his gaze. The sky had turned blood orange. "And I . . . I don't think I'm worthy to be a Targaryen as much as I'm a Martell."
"Don't be so hard on yourself-"
"I'm a bastard, if any, I'm just good at being a bastard. That's all I'll ever be. You know, I think I probably prefer being a bastard, with no one expecting me of anything—"
"The blood of Rhaella Targaryen runs through your veins," Oberyn interjected. "You don't know yet of its importance but you will in time."
"I—" You immediately stopped talking upon seeing Cersei walk around the deck, with a handmaiden following behind her, her eyes on the horizon beyond, witnessing what little of the sun left before it was devoured by the ocean.
"Because of her, right? You've grown fond of her," Oberyn said, sighing. "You're even wearing her damn necklace."
As if she knew you were looking, Cersei turned towards the quarterdeck, her eyes meeting yours in a tensed gaze. Your hand grabbed against the wooden railing a bit too hard. Oberyn was far from wrong. It was because of the Lannister woman.
This was all too easy and perfect if you were just you — a bastard from the Martell house. You would serve Cersei, even if your family would despise you. But sometimes, people fall in love with someone they can't have.
You missed the Queen Mother terribly, her striking green eyes piercing right through yours, observing what you two could possibly be talking about for making you frown that bad.
All you wanted to do at that moment was hold her, and tell her that you still wish to marry her if she also felt the same about you.
"I . . . I do," you confessed softly, avoiding Cersei's eyes. "She's . . . She's my weakness."
"It will pass, Y/n."
You then turned to glare at Oberyn. "What's that supposed to mean? When you fell in love with Ellaria, did it pass too?"
"That's different, Y/n. You think Cersei will feel the same about you if she only knew?" Oberyn scoffed. "The Lannisters were one of the houses that ended the line of Targaryens. They even paid mercenaries to assassinate Queen Daenaerys herself and she's in another continent. If Cersei knew you were Daenaerys' sister, bastard or not, she'd kill you herself. Did you forget what they did to Robert's bastards?"
Cersei had now walked towards the stern, staring into the darkness ahead. Her golden hair billowing against the wind was the only brightest thing in that ship.
"All I'm saying is," Oberyn went on. "You ought to be careful. End it while it's still early. Cersei is a woman of ruthless nature. She wouldn't see you through."
Oberyn then placed a hand on your shoulder before he left.
You sighed, right hand curling into a fist on your side, mind fighting between leaving and heading towards the woman down below. Yet, the heart wanted what it wants as you began to climb down the stairs leading to the stern.
"You said you'd always want to have your own ship one day," you started, approaching Cersei, her perfume infiltrating your nostrils. The wind gently blew the Queen's hair against all directions, and it was such a wonderful sight.
Cersei raised a hand towards the handmaiden, making the latter bow before leaving you both alone.
"You remember," she replied, her eyes still on the dark horizon.
"Of course." You smiled, walking closer. "How could I not? Did it meet your expectations then, Your Grace?"
"It's not my first time riding a ship, although a lot has changed. The waves are somewhat smaller than I remember years ago. And the sunset has never been that red before."
You were now standing side by side with the Lioness, your hand on the railing, at least an inch away from where Cersei's hand was.
"It hasn't for a long time. People in Dorne believe that red skies are often associated with warnings or change. That whenever a sky is as red as blood, any decision you put forth on that day should be carefully done, unless you don't regard any bad omen coming your way."
She chuckled softly. "And what do you say to these beliefs?"
Cersei turned her head to look at you, expecting your reply, a glint in her eye.
Your eyes never left hers, travelling from her mouth back to her eyes. "I . . . I just think that it's such a beautiful occurrence to see. And I don't care about the consequences."
Cersei stopped smiling, understanding you weren't talking about any Dornish myths or beliefs anymore. Both of your fingers were barely brushing, distance diminishing each second. It would seem apparent that you two were leaning forward to each other.
Until Ellaria coughed behind you, stopping you both. "Supper is ready."
~~~
Being a Martell, you thought travelling by water would have made you immune against seasickness, but maybe it was the remnants of The Mountain's strength that had weaken you.
The trip to Dorne would take almost a week, and it only took three days before you started feeling nauseated. Going back and forth to the head just to eradicate the upset churning in your stomach had drained your energy. Ellaria had took mercy, bringing you a bucket to use beside you.
Cersei's presence was the only thing that made it bearable. You would join her at the dining cabin at night time, talking for hours that even Oberyn had almost fallen asleep on the table.
On the fifth night, you had excused yourself from dinner and surrendered to the confines of your cabin. Maybe it was the way the ship was swaying against the huge tides from the forecasted storm or the stale food you ate during breakfast. Either way, you had secluded yourself to recover.
The Queen Mother was having none of it though, knocking against your door some time later that night and bringing you a steaming hot bowl of soup.
"It's Venison," Cersei said, as she sat on the side of your bed. "I had our cook made it. Hot liquids can help calm an upset stomach. Tommen would always have them when he's sick."
"Thank you, Your Grace," you replied, straightening yourself as you leaned your back against the headboard of your bed. "You shouldn't have troubled yourself."
But instead of giving you the bowl, she insisted to feed you with a spoonful, leaning closer to you. With cheeks flushed from the act of endearment, you let the woman coddle you.
"You never come to me as someone who gets sick travelling by sea," she teased, a smile on her face.
"Well, I normally don't," you argued, making the Queen laugh.
"Quit being cocky and let yourself be taken care of."
One of the Dornish servants suddenly barged through the door, eyes wide upon seeing you not alone. There was a crate of supplies for your wound on her arms.
"Leave it," Cersei ordered, making the servant drop the crate unto a table nearby.
After you have finished the bowl, Cersei brought her hands to the hem of your tunic, attempting to pull it off you. Heart skipping a beat when you felt her fingers brush against your skin, you immediately stopped her, wrapping your hand around her wrist. "What are you doing?"
The Lannister woman smirked as she stood and walked away instead, taking the crate of supplies from the doorway. "I'm changing the dressing of your wound."
After a few moments of hesitation, you finally let Cersei get rid of your tunic. Her eyes softened upon the sight of her necklace's golden lion pendant on your chest and the bruised skin, now had gone purple close to healing.
She then began delicately cleaning the wound on your chest, her thumb purposefully brushing your nipple, every touch bringing you shivers. You swallowed, cheeks red as you attempted to move away from her.
"Stop moving," Cersei said, giggling.
"Stop teasing me then," you countered back.
After she had managed to change your dressing, you noticed a tent growing under your breeches. Everything seemed to freeze at that moment as you quickly took one of your pillows to hide it when Cersei was looking away.
Yet, there was nothing the Queen could miss as her curious eyes began wondering why there was a pillow on your lap. She sat back on the side of your bed, leaning forward and closer to your body.
Her sultry voice near your face made you harder than you were before, your cock straining painfully from the weight of the pillow. "Do you also need help with something else, My Lady?"
"Your Grace, I don't think—"
"Stop thinking," she whispered into your ear, her hand slipping inside your breeches and stroking your hardening cock. "Just breathe, Y/n. Let yourself go. Take pleasure in my hand."
Letting out an embarrassingly loud groan, you threw your head back against the headboard, eyes rolling deep into the back, hands clutching against the sheets on both sides.
Cersei's eyes darted towards your cock when she managed to pull it out from your breeches, twitching against her touch. It had never looked this painfully hard before, you thought you wouldn't last a second longer.
"You have a pretty cock, you know," she cooed, her lips nipping the skin on your jaw and neck. Her hand moved expertly, squeezing you tight as if milking you, and she did manage, her thumb tracing over the small cum leaking from your head then spreading it on your entire length.
"Cersei. . ."
The sound of your whimpers made Cersei turn to stare at you, observing your every reaction, with your eyes shut close and mouth agape. "You looked so prettier under my control."
"Cersei, I'm close. . ."
"Good," she said.
You opened your eyes to see what she meant, but what you saw only made you lose it. The Queen took the entire length of your cock into her mouth, bobbing her head up and down in a fast pace. The sight itself, the wetness and warmth from her mouth and the moan she let out when she took you made you explode right into her.
And she took it all, swallowing everything there was to milk. You cursed profanities into the silent night, grunting your release, releasing a lot more when she took you deeper.
It seemed like eternity when you had finally come down from your high, watching Cersei clean your shaft before licking the side of her lips from any residue. She then tucked your cock back into your breeches and leaned forward back to you.
"I would have hated wasting a single drop," she finished with a smug smile on her face.
I truly appreciate your continued support in reading my stories. You can help me create more stories by supporting my writing thru this link. Thank you so much ❤🥰
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simpjaes · 2 days
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i feel like a stalker reader fic with a plot twist of sunghoon being a stalker even before reader was obsessed with him (kind of like a mastermind where he plotted how and when they would meet first) AND A FREAKY ONE AT THAT is only a fic that you could possibly write
and you're right about that bc i do believe i'd slay that shit if I ever got around to it.
a/n: this was meant to just be a thought but i got a lil lost in it lmfao.
Like, the idea of Sunghoon being obsessed with you since fuckin' senior year of high school because he transferred there. He was vulnerable when he transferred due to home life stuff forcing the move, and he had close to no one save for a dad who was never home. You were the first person to say hello to him and that singular greeting made him grow attached.
and he'd like, watch week after week. sometimes you'd greet him in passing but never really approach him or anything. he would be too far attached already to approach you himself too, because he feels socially awkward. he is socially awkward. No one back at home liked him much either so his confidence isn't quite high enough to peruse you.
anyway, shoot to college. maybe....he's been like...yknow....doing his research on you since he transferred back in highschool. maybe he's doing the same degree path as you.....maybe he did some snooping to land in the same university, taking the same classes....at the same times as you.........
he's grown very smart about this tho bc like, you'd never second guess why you're always seeing that handsome guy everywhere. maybe you guys are just more alike than you could have thought. and you wouldn't grow your own little crush turned obsession until he you noticed how he ignored you.
you never saw him glance or stare. he'd brush you off any time you try to greet him, he'd always speak in class with confidence, making you feel like he's...very very very intelligent. and it's like, woah, he acts so different compared to high school. you're into him kinda....there's nothing wrong with a lil crush right?
lil crush turns HUGE crush when he ends up at all the same parties you attend. always lurking in a corner by himself looking handsome and untouchable, sometimes with other girls approaching him. these are the moments you'd catch his drunken eyes on you from time to time. Or maybe he's just catching you staring. you're not sure of yourself anymore by this point.
still he wouldn't make any moves or efforts to talk to you. little crush turns to big crush. big crush turns to you wanting to learn more about him...and learning more about him turns to you consistently checking in on his social medias that he rarely updates....asking about him around campus when you manage to land in a room where he isn't, hoping he shows up to more parties..etc.
you wouldn't realize the stalker behavior you're exhibiting til it was too late. he'd be all too fond of it though, knowing he's managed to catch your attention by giving you none at all. what a needy little doll.
It's not until you dead ass find out where he works part time and you're filling out your own application before you realize that maybe you're going a bit too far. when he ends up being there during your interview though, you're a bit too blinded by wanting to know more about him to think too hard about it.
and so, the two of you are working together, going to classes together, attending parties together...except separate. and it's driving you up a fucking wall because surely it's because he has a girlfriend right? but you never see her. you can't find any trace of someone he's with on social media. never on campus, at work, no where. so, lets say you guys end up at a party again and you really do lose it.
lots of alcohol in your system, sunghoon looming in a corner, side eyeing pretty girls who stare at him. you'd be the one staring the most, walking up to him while forgetting how to breathe, only realizing you might actually be in love with him when you try to reach for his shoulder with a brain so empty you forgot what you wanted to say. "Hm?" he'd hum at you with a raised, unbothered brow. His skin prickling at the way your shaking hand grabs at him. He calms himself through it though, having jerked off enough to the mere thought of these hands on him nightly since he met you. He knows how to calm down now. "I'm like, in love with you, maybe." You'd slur out, stupidly with an embarrassed but hopeful expression. Sunghoon's unbothered demeanor wouldn't change, but the setting would. He'd take your hand and guide you without a word, outside, into his car, and he wouldn't say a anything to you through it until he'd driven and parked somewhere entirely secluded. [He's sober btw, you make him drunk enough.] "Do you even know how much I want you?" He'd mumble so quietly you wouldn't be able to hear him over the thumping of your heart, but you stare at him, watching his lips move as he tries to speak. You watch him the whole time, feeling safe in this secluded spot with a man you've grown obsessed with. Your body reacts and moves on instinct as he sits there. You can't fucking stand being so close yet so far from him. "I don't know what you're saying to me." You'd mumble and slur out to him, far too drunk than you originally thought now that there is no loud and booming music to drown your thoughts out. "You never do." He frowns, leaning towards you and practically pinning you to your seat by energy alone. His entire body feels like it's on fire, cock twitching, heart jumping. "You want me?" You nod, breathing softly and deeply as you look at him. Of course you want him. "How bad?" He follows up. "As badly as I've wanted you?" You nod again. "You sure?" Another nod.
His eyes go vacant now as he stares at you, adjusting his body on top of yours in the cramped space of his car. You feel his nose nuzzle against your neck as he inhales deeply. He groans slightly at the scent, never able to smell you so fully except for in passing. This alone could satisfy him for life if he wanted it to. "Show me then." He nearly demands, wanting you to be the one to prove all of his work to get to this point is truly coming to fruition. Wanting you to make all of the first moves. Wanting you to do it all for him.
And, well...you do.
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lulu2992 · 3 days
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Greg Bryk was in episode 25 of Podcast141, co-hosted by Marwen Heni, Mars Lipowski, and Jim Boeven, to talk about his acting career in general, but also and mostly his role as Joseph Seed in Far Cry 5.
Since he’s already shared a lot of anecdotes in interviews and live videos on Instagram, I thought I wouldn’t learn anything new... but I did, so here’s a summary of what he said about his experience playing the Father.
We knew that the dev team (he specifically mentioned Dan Hay and Drew Holmes) had struggled to find the “right” actor for the role, but what I don’t remember ever hearing before is that, after two years of unsuccessful search, the project was almost cancelled for this reason!
Thankfully, that was when Greg Bryk auditioned. He had already said the script they gave him (and that he thought was “amazing”) was what became Joseph’s monologue in the mission “We Must Be Strong”, but he gave more details about what was originally in it. In this early version of his backstory, Joseph was 23 years old and working two jobs to support his family. One night, exhausted, he fell asleep on the couch as his pregnant wife went out to get ice cream. He was then awoken by a knock on the door, told she had been in an accident, and taken to the hospital. The rest of the story is what he says in Far Cry 5: when he arrives, his wife is dead, their premature daughter is “stuffed with tubes”, he hears God’s calling, and understands he has to make this sacrifice.
So he got the role, and when they called him again to record a sermon (my guess is it was this one, but I’m just speculating), he saw what the game looked like and thought everything and everyone was “incredible”. Over time, as they got to know him, they even changed the character and partly rewrote the Father specifically for him.
The team was also very accommodating. For example, the scenes are usually shot in the huge performance capture studio, but for the Heralds’ eulogies, which are much more intimate, they built a small room so he felt like he actually had something around him instead of a big, empty space.
A day before the game came out, the cutscenes were already available online and he watched some of them. He was very impressed by the last eulogy (or, as he calls it, “snot monologue”) in particular because of how “vivid” and “human” it felt. It brought tears to his eyes and he recalls his wife was “blown away”; it was “special”.
As for the fans, he thinks they’ve been very supportive and welcoming. Some have told him they felt heard and seen by Joseph, and he believes it’s because he’s a character who loves people for who they are. At this point, he and the co-hosts agreed that being an actor was a gift because it gives an opportunity to make people’s lives better, especially in video games because there’s a unique connection that doesn’t really exist in movies or TV series.
Marwen Heni mentioned that, while most villains want you to hate them, Joseph, on the contrary, wanted you to reflect and think that he might be right. Greg Bryk admitted that he believed everything he said, especially about family and technology. Sometimes, people are isolated or only have online connections, so having someone tell them, “I see you and I love you for what you are” is powerful. In his opinion, this message resonated with a lot of players because it’s a simple truth and we all want to be part of a family.
Joseph doesn’t control his followers with fear, Marwen Heni commented, but with devotion, and that too makes him compelling. As he was playing Far Cry 5, he started questioning whether or not he (as the Deputy) was right for opposing the Father, which is something Greg Bryk says he saw a lot in comments. He believes there’s “an intimacy to the relationship” between Joseph and the player, a “seduction” in the sense that we all want to belong. He’s humbled by the impact his work had on people.
When asked if he would be open to reprising the role, this time, he answered, “Absolutely”. In fact, and this is news to me, he revealed there were discussions about turning Far Cry into a TV show, and the different games would have been standalone seasons. That said, he added that, at a certain point, it’s necessary to let characters go and that he was grateful for what he had already experienced playing the Father.
Marwen Heni then asked if Joseph, who is very complex, was entirely fictional or if it was Greg talking through him. He answered his characters are always him, to a degree, because he wants to connect with the material so he never lies and can work from things that matter to him. He never judges them and tries to think about what he wants to express through them. He’s interested in their humanity and what motivates them. “We’re all broken,” he said. “Some are much more broken than others, and sometimes those broken pieces are very sharp and jagged, and they lash out.”
He also revealed he had “very specific rituals” to help him become a character and then let them go. He mentioned a few prayers that one of his friends, who is a Wiccan, taught him. In fact, and all the co-hosts agreed, it can be very hard to “disconnect” from a character sometimes because actors aren’t just pretending; they’re using real emotions.
He had already said his son Dempsey had done the mocap for John and Jacob in the Collapse DLC and that he felt carrying Ethan’s body in New Dawn was a way for him to honor his “boy”, his dead dog Lucky, since he deeply regretted that he couldn’t be there to take him to the veterinarian the day he passed. What I didn’t know, however, is that it was Greg himself who had asked if Joseph could carry Ethan, and the team made it happen. He also explained that, when it was time to play this scene, he tried to imagine what it would be like to actually lose his son.
But who is Greg Bryk’s favorite Far Cry villain? Well, when he auditioned and started researching the franchise, he was interested in Vaas because of Michael Mando’s performance. He still doesn’t know him personally but has a friend who worked with him and who spoke about “how electrifying his talent was”. There’s something “unhinged” and “primal” to him as a performer; he’s a “wild” and “special” actor.
Finally, when told he was born to play Joseph, he confessed he felt he was indeed “called” to play this part but wants to give credit to Dan Hay, Drew Holmes, and Jean-Sébastien Décant for creating such a “terrifyingly human” antagonist in the first place.
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miupow · 5 hours
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how would txt members react to their gf being bratty in public ? (would they tolerate it?)
i love brats and brat tamers so much <3
🔞 // nsfw , mdni !
soobin -> he’s such an attentive angel that you rarely feel the need to be bratty at all ! he gives you everything you want ! all of the attention and spoiling you could ever possibly want ,, but sometimes you want to see how far you can push him until he breaks <3 being a total brat out to dinner with him and the other boys, being a needy whore in front of his closest friends ,, getting soobin to snap is almost impossible, but when you do… you’re in for it when you get home, and you know it by the way he’s grabbing your waist
yeonjun -> will not hesitate to bend you over his lap and spank you in a public bathroom if he has to ! do not challenge the king exhibitionist in public, it’ll only end badly for you !! he thinks you being bratty is cute most of the time, aren’t you so adorable being so whiny <3 but sometimes you take it too far !! acting like a brat out with his friends !! n ur boyfie has to pull you away and remind you who’s really in charge
beomgyu -> trying to be bratty to a brat is just a mistake. he’ll be just as annoying and needy as you, if not more, until you’re both pissed with each other lmao ! angry sex w beomgyu… calling u a fucking bitch while he’s railing you from behind <3 pulling on your hair n slapping your ass, where’d that little attitude of yours go? huffing for him to shut up, asshole before he shoves your face into the wall <3 he was too impatient to get home, took you to the bathroom or an alley instead hehe
taehyun -> does not tolerate batty behavior period , but especially not in public. acting like a needy, disobedient slut in front of all of his friends, embarrassing him like this? they’re going to think he can’t control his woman. tyun doesn’t like public sex , would act ominously cool and composed up until he gets you back home— now you’re going to learn your lesson.
kai -> oh hyuka… like soobin he’s such a brat enabler, let’s you walk all over him with a smile !!! but don’t take him for granted, because there’s a side to kai that only you get to see on the incredibly rare occasion that you really , really piss him off. and you wouldn’t even know it before it was too late, because kai can hide his anger so well.. but sometimes you can see it in his eyes when he smiles at you… having to call off any plans the next day because you can’t even get out of bed !!
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chubbybunny25 · 3 days
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you like jercy too??? honestly it feels like the jercy nation is dying out sometimes so finding someone who likes jercy is a !!! moment
percico are my first and dearest pjo ship but jercy wormed their way in there too and now I think about them on the regular
do you have any jercy headcanons or ideas? I'd love to hear them!
~ inhabitinganotheruniverse
Hi! Of course, Percy/Nico ship has my heart forever, too!! Generally, I love writing about them because their dynamic is so complex and has so much potential and—sorry, uhm, about your ask:
But jercy!! I love them more as a reader, because their relationship is sooo cool and mostly comforting. I'll always be a sucker for their 'bromance to romance' dynamic (and ofc I stubbornly refuse to believe whatever canon did to Jason Grace).
As for hc's, besides the more common ones that I've read so far...
I like to think that Percy gets the craziest ideas while Jason helps him to "strategically" carry out said ideas. Like some time after the war, Percy thinks of a prank he likes to try and Jason makes a plan so he can get a kiss from Percy.
Also, Percy's love language is affection like hugs or kisses, while Jason's a sap so he always compliments Percy in a poetic way. Bonus if he switches to Latin because he's so overwhelmed with Percy's smile, eyes, and just everything that's Percy.
When giving gifts, Percy's are aimed to make Jason laugh, while Jason's make Percy tear up (in a good way ofc).
Eventually, they learn from each other and surprise each other when Jason casually hugs Percy and Percy mindlessly makes a poetic remark.
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quotidian-oblivion · 3 days
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How do you get people to interact more with your fanfic?
I AM SO GLAD YOU ASKED
Mainly because I love ranting about psychological patterns and discussing analytical points on stuff like this.
So the following tips are general things which can be used for any kind of advertising, I will let you know when something is fanfiction specific. These are just personal tips from the stuff I learnt in psych class, stuff I learned while being in a professional environment, stuff I learnt through programs and stuff, and just stuff I've learned through experience. SO GET READY!
The first thing you should know before following any of this is: Don't let disappointment crush your life. Look, sometimes nothing works the way we want and it's bound by fate to crash. Don't let it stop you from living your life or trying new things or doing things which you love. If you lose interest in something, fine, it's okay. Really. There are quintillions of things in this world and you have only one of them in your hand. Get out there. Do stuff.
Now, let's see.
1. Networking
Always, always, always say this when someone wants something to be known. Because this is how it works:
Alexandra 👧 is very excited about her cookies. This is her first time baking them and she thinks it's the best thing ever! So she tells her friend Mariam 🧕about it and asks Mariam to try one. Mariam does and she enjoys the cookies very much because they're halal and so she is able to eat them and enjoy them!
One day, Mariam 🧕 is talking about baking to her work friend Bethany 👩 and she mentions Alexandra's cookies. Alexandra 👧 was regularly making cookies so Mariam 🧕 took some and gave one to Bethany 👩. Bethany ate it and enjoyed it very very much!
Mariam 🧕 also gave a cookie sample to her mother, father, sister and brother. They loved it very much and enjoyed them.
Bethany 👩 was later craving some cookies so she asked Mariam for more and Mariam directed her to Alexandra 👧. Alexandra and Bethany met and chatted and Alexandra gave her more cookies.
Time passed, and Alexandra one day got up from bed and started her routine of making morning cookie when she realized... she has three hundred people who were asking for her cookies and some were overseas too, asking for her cookies. She had started a whole business simply by talking to people. Wasn't that an awesome way the world worked? 🍪
~
Okay, so here's what happened: one person told another person about their product. Assuming that person is a very sociable person, they told their family, friends and whoever they came into contact with about the product when a related topic was brought into the conversation. The people who heard about the product from her are 80% from the same culture as her, so there is one type of community who knows about the product and may or may not purchase it. Either way, if they remember or if it's relevant, they will bring up the product to other people and those people will tell other people and the cycle will go on.
But then, one of those people has a connection to a person outside of that community, and that person may or may not purchase the product and like it. And if they like the product, they will remember it and they'll tell others about it and soon, a whole new community will know about the product and may or may not purchase it or spread information about it.
The cycle goes on and on because humans are literally like the strands of a spider's web. They're connected with the entire world one way or another, no matter how far their connection points are.
That's why networking is so important. And you'll see that the best kind of advertising is when it's someone you know recommending you to try something. This is a type of social conformity and it's beautiful to see how humans love sharing things. Use this aspect of humanity to show what you have to offer to the world.
I don't necessarily use marketing stuff for my fanfics except sometimes because a) I just like writing and posting things and b) going full on marketing is exhausting and I'd much rather save up that energy for money-making things or irl things. For me, fanfiction just happens. But I totally and absolutely respect people who do what they can to reach out and show off their work to everyone as they should! I like it when people do that because it means that they're proud of what they created and humans are sharing creatures, so when they share, it strengthens human connection and that's beautiful.
So, in terms of advertising and marketing, it's very very necessary to network.
How do you network?
I'm glad you asked! In terms of fanfiction, here's what you can do:
Follow: Follow and keep following people on tumblr, no matter how many digits your following stats show. My following stats are nearly in quadruple digits cuz I abesnt-mindedly click the follow button lmao. The good thing about this is that the more you follow people, the more the chance that they might see the notification and check out your blog and come into contact with your fanfiction.
Post: This seems obvious, but there's more to it. The more you post on ao3 or whichever platform you use, the more your username appears to people and the more people might see and register and remember your name and check out your account. In terms of fanfiction though, I'd suggest you post only things you want to, don't pressure yourself to write please. Fanfiction is one of the things that are meant to be enjoyable and if you don't enjoy it, then even if you get like a thousand kudos, you will still not feel happy because you're tired from all the forced content.
Content: In order for more views or people to see your stuff, not just fanfiction but anything in general, then your content must be memorable. Alexandra's cookies were memorable bc of their taste, which is why Mariam and Bethany were able to remember it and pass it on to other people and ask Alexandra for more of it. The content can be a) very good in quality b) have a lot in quantity (only works on some stuff) c) be very beautiful or pretty or noticeable d) content is posted on a regular schedule e) be relatable. The content has to be something that is memorable. The two best ways a content is memorable is if it's either very good in quality or relatable. In terms of fanfiction, the plot would be brilliant or the writing would be brilliant, or the plot would be something the readers wanted to see like a certain trope or an underrated trope which is in demand. Or the plot is something that has happened to the readers and provided them with a secondary experience (this, you cannot control).
Creator: The creator of the content must also be memorable. Because content can get lost sometimes. Bethany may forget where she got the cookies from had she not had that chat with Alexandra. Fanfiction titles can get lost and people might not remember. Authors are easier to remember than fanfiction titles a lot of the times because there's that human-human connection. So in the author's notes maybe you drop some lore about the story you've written, or mention something crazy that happened to you while writing the story, or you rant about a part of the fandom you are or maybe analyse a thing from canon. Whatever it is. In terms of fanfiction, it's especially good for your author's notes to relate to the story. But since it's fanfiction and it's literally something I do for fun, I use the author's notes to just... talk 😅. I really don't care if people read it or not, I'd like it if people read my notes and comment on something they want to comment on because I love holding conversations in the comments. Which brings me to another thing: Answering comments can be a way for you to be noticed. But not just any answers, if the commenter has left a unique comment or if it holds something like an analysis or something, then replying in equal to it means that the reader may see your reply and your name appears twice in their brains, creating a wrinkle in the brain which stores your name. BUT. Since it's fanfiction and it's something fun (wow, that's becoming my phrase) I hold conversations in the comments because I like talking to people. Fun fact! The way I talk in text, like with the "uh"s and "um"s and the elipsis and stutters is literally how I talk irl. Even the word "lol" and "lmao" I actually do say those words irl lmao. So my replies to comments take a while because sometimes I don't have the energy to hold conversations or interact with people and I just don't feel like a simple "thanks!" and heart emoji is enough. Another fun fact about me.
Other ways to reach: Tumblr has been a huge part in people discovering my fics because I like socializing with people on there :) I like sending asks to people, I like messaging them, I like talking to them over reblogs even if it means scrolling all the way down my screen, I like doing tag games, I like collaborating with people on different projects. I like doing all this because it's like... I'm better in terms of talking online than irl because there's not pressure of facial expressions and since I can get quiet irl sometimes, I utilise my ability to be able to actually socialize online. I love my moots and our conversations ^^ So it's not advertising in my book, but it is a strategy to use when you want to market something. I use it irl when I want to be noticed for a job or for a position or if I want to sell something, I make friends all around and make sure they're okay with me talking about the thing I want to sell or talking about me being good for a position so when the time comes, they can purchase something or I can use them as referees. In fact, this is a very, very very important tactic to use in the professional world. Make. Work. Friends. Make work friends, they're so so helpful and make sure that you're a work friend for someone too, because it all only works in reciprocity. Becase when you make a friend, a friend will behave like a friend. And friends (good friends), check out each others' works or interests at the very least. Even if they're not interested, they're willing to hear about it. But other than tumblr, there's another big thing you can do: READ AND COMMENT ON OTHER PEOPLE'S WORKS!!! PLEASEEEEEEEEEEEE. TRY TO COMMENT ON EVERY SINGLE FIC YOU READ. Fanfiction is a community. If you don't take part in it, you'll be left out. It's a rule, I'm sorry, but that's how humans work. Wherever you live, if you don't take part in the community you're in, you'll be left out. It's the real world, kids.
2. Quality of content
We already touched base on this and I've said quite a lot on it already, but. This is definitely something I do for my fics in terms of advertising (and also self-improvement). Because no one will want to read something which has the grammar of a kindergartner and has a plot as obscure as a sphinx's riddle.
Improving your product, constantly and regularly is very, very important. If you compare my first work to my most recent one (okay- maybe not my most recent one, cuz the current fic I'm posting rn is something I wrote after months of writer's block), you'll see that there has been a drastic improvement. So.
How do you improve the quality of your work?
I'm glad you asked that too!
Peers: Have people or friends you made online or irl who look over your writing and provide feedback. If you look into my yes beta and no beta tags and also see how many people I've co-written with, you'll see that I interact and involve a lot of people a lot of the time with my writing. It's a) because self-improvement is awesome and b) just having people involved in your interest is awesome!
Open mind: Always have an open mind when it comes to creating. If someone has a mindset of "I'm already good at this" or "I can do wayyy better than this writer", they will never, ever, ever, ever, ever improve and therefore they will never get the amount of attention they want. Trust me, I've met people like those, and they're arrogant assholes. Sure, you will feel like that sometimes, and yes, I feel like that sometimes too. But here's the thing: use it to your advantage. I've come across many fics which I thought "oh my God, the plot/writing is so shit", but I never voiced it out loud. If it was something that really irked me, I complained about it to my friends privately, but didn't (or tried not to) mention the name to protect the integrity and passion of the creator. What I did instead was something that was better for me: I let it improve my work instead. I intently read the work that annoyed me and when I found exactly what I didn't like about it, I took it in stride and then went back to my own work and made sure that my work didn't have that. It's very humbling to see something you hate and then you go back to your own work and see you have the exact same thing there. Multiple times. It's humbling and also an advantage because you've improved yourself. If you knew the amount of fics I wrote out of spite because I found something I didn't like and wanted to fix it... Yeah. The important thing here is that this process does not disrupt - or even touch - the original creator's process. They are not your responsibility. You are. In this note, be assured: no matter who you are or what your content is, it will always have someone who is yearning to find that exact content. Even if you think it's shit, it will have an audience. And you don't want to pop their bubble do you? So please, please please for the sake of all fanfic readers out there, do NOT enter "I'm so sorry, my writing is bad" or "oh my Goddddd, guys don't read this it's so bad loll" or "I don't really like what I've written here... but here you go anyway!" or anything like that. Do. NOT. It's simply the worst thing you can do to others and yourself.
Find tips: I have a hundred page google doc that is compiled of every single tip I could gather in the year 2022 from tiktok, youtube, pinterest and tumblr. Every. Single. One. I could. Find. And I constantly refer to it when writing. (I also have another google doc full of study tips, and another which is just general tips. Yeah... i had a lot of free time in 2022. I don't now lol, so it hasn't been updated in years)
3. Reaching out
By this, I mean tagging. I use every and any tags in my fics, but only correct or relevant tags. Ao3 is amazing in a way where people will actively search what they're looking for. So a brilliant way where people will find you is when you tag.
Tag correctly. When people tag popular ships or certain characters or other popular tags for "reach", it creates the opposite effect. It will make sure people will never read any of their works again if they can help it because that's just a shitty thing to do.
When you do tag correctly though, you will find the exact people who want to read fics like yours and you will make a name for yourselves.
Tag as much as you can unless it's inappropriate. Tagging everything you can think of is another way to get reach and it's something I absolutely do (and also bc, idk why, but tagging is one of the fun things about posting fics for me lol. Ig I like the organization). Whether it's character trait tags like "Tim Drake Whump" to plot tags like "Ice skating" to genre tags like "Crack and fluff" to warning like "waterboarding", it is a) a way where people who don't/can't read the stuff they want can stay away from it and no one receives hate comments and if they do, well, that reader is just fucking stupid and blind and it's not your fault and b) the people who do want to read those tags will find your fic. Yes, tag everything. Trust me, there will be people scrolling through tags like MCD and Dead Dove (example: me when I'm in a Mood) and when they find your fic, they will be delighted and leave excited comments.
~
So this isn't exactly very organized lmao, but I typed this up in one sitting. I hope it helps!
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tgmsunmontue · 2 days
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Season to Taste - 18/? WIP
Explicit Hangster - Celebrity Chef Bradley and Naval Aviator Jake Seresin who have a relationship spanning the globe before they realize how tightly bound they are to one another. Heading into this little world.
PROLOGUE/ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX SEVEN EIGHT NINE TEN ELEVEN TWELVE THIRTEEN FORTEEN FIFTEEN SIXTEEN SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
                He starts keeping a record of his favorite dishes, what he likes and doesn’t like about places they eat. And they eat at so many different places. While he might ring Ice once a week or every other week, me calls Leandro and Silvia almost everyday. And everyday Leandro or Silvia give them another instruction, a food to try or a place to go and visit, or a restaurant to go to. Ask to meet the chef, tell them who you are. They are expecting you.
                It’s the fact that they’re always somehow expecting Bradley and Violet means they can’t not turn up. Sometimes it’s high-end places where they are so incredibly underdressed it makes him uncomfortable, but he notes that in the best places they don’t pay any attention to what he’s wearing, all customers treated with the same level of respect and deference and he likes it, reminds him of Leandro’s restaurant.
                “Why are you keeping all these notes?”
                “I… I think I might want to open my own restaurant.”
                “Holy shit. Really?”
                “Yeah. Is that crazy?”
                “Yes. Absolutely insane. Where?”
                “I don’t know… Where do you think?”
                “Well. How much money do you have?”
                “Shit. That’s a good question.”
                “It’s a good thing I have a business degree.”
                “What do you mean?”
                “Well, I’m not letting you go off and do it alone.”
                “Thanks Vi. I love you.”
                “Ew gross. Feelings. Love you too though.”
…            …            …
                He hears the door and the sounds of Jake kicking off his boots before they’re carefully placed out of the way. It’s after midday, so he’s not sure if Jake would have eaten yet, he’s just making some sandwiches, easy enough to simply put away for later if needed. Jake doesn’t bother calling out, heads straight for the kitchen like he knows that’s where he’ll find him and it feels nice, that he already knows Bradley so well.
                “Hey, how was your morning?”
                “Torture…” Jake offers. “But somehow not illegal.”
                “That bad huh?” Bradley asks, and Jake comes to stand at the corner side of the kitchen island, leans forward to give him a kiss and he can’t help but smile into it. The easy gesture of affection but also Jake’s dramatics over his sisters torturing him.
                “Do you promise not to hold my family against me?” Jake asks
                Bradley grins, goes to immediately tell him of course not and then pauses.
                “Well. As long as you can promise me the same, I guess. When the time comes.”
                “Pretty sure my five sisters are scarier than any family you can throw at me…”
                “Yeah… you’d think so. Probably. Just… uh. It’ll be fine.”
                They need to actually reach a milestone of maybe months or a year together before he considers raising his relationship with Ice. Vi might think his fame would cause issues, but he honestly thinks Jake won’t give a damn. Vi’s right, he’s far too down to earth and grounded to care about what fame or money Bradley might have behind him. He cares about the person Bradley is and it’s nice, makes such a nice change. However he suspects that Jake will care about his deeper ties with certain members in the Navy, especially given that they’re all Naval aviators as well. Right. Like what he thought before, he’ll cross that bridge when he comes to it. Jake has shifted closer, has stolen a sundried tomato and popped it into his mouth and chewing while he grins and then he’s kissing Bradley properly, the sharp tang of tomato still in his mouth.
                “Why are you always initiating sex in the kitchen...?”
                “It is pretty much where you spend a lot of your time. Where I find you…”
                “Huh. Yeah. I guess you're right.”
                “Hmm. Maybe spend some time somewhere else and then you might find me doing this in other places…”
                “Mmm. So it’s not me in the kitchen gets you going huh?”
                “Baby, you anywhere and everywhere gets me going. Think we've already determined the fact that all I need to do is look at you...”
                “Sweet talker.”
                “Just for you. Also we ain’t having sex yet. This is just a welcome home kiss. You forgotten what sex is already?”
                Bradley laughs against Jake’s mouth.
                “Yeah, think it’s slipping from my memory. You better remind me…”
                “Mmm. Hard job but someone’s got to do it…” Jake murmurs and Bradley hadn’t meant it as an invitation, not really, but Jake steps behind him, draws him back so that Bradley’s ass is cradled against his hips, he can feel Jake’s growing erection pressing through the layers of denim and his own cock has already started racing to catch up, an almost Pavlovian response now to seeing Jake simply walk through the door and surely he’s going to get used to it eventually. He braces his hands against the counter, shivers as Jake nips at the side of his neck, his hands pressing down over Bradley’s.
                “Yeah, keep them there…”
                “Huh?”
                Then Jake’s palming his cock, fleshy part of his palm dragging and pressing and he jerks a little, caught between wanting to grind back against Jake’s cock or press into the friction of his hand. He can’t decide, glad Jake clearly has a plan as he works Bradley’s jeans open, hand slipping inside and pulling his cock out, starting to work it, not giving him time to think other than I was making sandwiches for lunch. Instead he’s panting, hands white-knuckled on the kitchen bench as he feels Jake’s body flex behind him as he works his hand down-up-down.
                “One day I’ll come home and you’ll be in nothing but the apron…”
                Bradley lets out a choked laugh, wants to say something about saving it for a special occasion, he’s not wearing an apron right now, but Jake is shifting so he’s more caged in by his body, more of him is pressed up against Jake as he grinds his hips against Bradley’s ass, his teeth nipping at Bradley’s neck.
                “Love making you come for me…”
                “Oh,” the breath punches out of him and he doesn’t last much longer, Jake holding him in place as he shudders through his orgasm, can’t believe a handjob has him coming that hard. Jake makes a humming sound and Bradley wonders if he’s imagining him sounding pleased with himself, before he’s stepping away to wash his hands in the sink and Bradley’s glad he’s supporting himself against the bench.
                “You going to let me take care of you now?”
                “Oh sweetheart, I’m banking on it.”
…            …            …
                Jake isn’t sure what has opened the floodgates for Leo, but he listens as talks about his childhood, his dad dying in a training exercise at Top Gun and now that he thinks about it, he vaguely remembers reading about it, like they have to read through all the accidents and incidents so they can be better prepared. Bradshaw. That’s why the name rings a bell.
                Then his mom being diagnosed with cancer, his godfather being there when he’s not deployed. Other naval aviators being present as he grew up and he uses callsigns like they’re as natural as breathing and it occurs to him then that when Leo had said he knew what Jake’s job entailed he had really meant it. He knows it can be dangerous. He knows Jake will be gone for long periods of time and that communication might sometimes be difficult, even if it has gotten much better. Leo was raised not only by a family in the military, but by naval aviators and if Jake had been looking for someone that might understand his job without doing the job themselves, then he couldn’t find someone better.
                Then Leo talks about his mom dying, his godfather pulling his papers and his immediate and drastic decision to take the first plane out of the country. He files it away, that Leo’s first response when hurt and angry was to run away, wonders if that’s still the case. Then Leo is talking about his other family, the Gallo’s, and the way the name sounds has him grinning.
                “Sounds like you’re saying gallows…”
                “Yeah, pretty much. Why is that funny?”
                “Well, I know it means rooster, among other things…” Jake says, and he can’t help the grin as he thinks of the sexual prowess and loud voice. “But my callsign is Hangman.”
                “Okay…” Leo says, and it’s clear from his tone that he has no clue what Jake is referring to.
                “You’re clearly not a Styx fan. But there’s a line, Hangman is comin’ down from the gallows… You’re the Gallo…”
                “Then the line needs to be changed a little. Maybe going down on instead?”
                “Yeah? Just maybe?”
                “Yeah. Just maybe.”
NINETEEN
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fanonical · 2 days
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I see your point about June (and June is my favorite too). And I've definitely seen people headcanoning trans boy John out of really blatant spite, and complaining about June in a way that felt extremely pointed, like her mere existence is an insult and a source of hurt.
Buuuut on the other hand, many people loved transfem Roxy for a long time before the Epilogues, and I think it's fine and fair for them (... okay, us) to feel fleetingly disappointed that Roxy is transmasc in the Epilogues. I also think it's fine and fair to continue headcanoning Roxy as transfem, because the Epilogues were very explicitly in-text framed as one possible continuation out of many. I won't lie, I just love that t4t f/f Roxygen.
So my line of thinking is, it's probably still fine and fair to also love trans guy John, if people are inclined that way. It's more about the way that they do it? If you're finding yourself framing June as some kind of invasion on your holy safe space by the mean and terrible new writers of Homestuck, you need to take a step back and reexamine the transmisogynist bias there, and most importantly you need to stop being so goddamn rude to the people making art that just isn't for you. But on the other hand, I think simply ignoring the Epilogues and doing your own thing with trans boy John and his shaving cream trauma, that to me is perfectly in line with - and in fact respectful of - the spirit of the Epilogues.
(Similarly, I don't think it'd be bad to do a reading of the TUA comics where Vanya is a trans girl; I don't even think it'd be bad to write an AU genderswap of the TUA show universe where Viktor is a trans girl, though I'd greatly prefer if other characters' gender was changed too in that case.) (For example, I'd enjoy a full swap where A and V Hargreeves were the only "boys" growing up, and then V transitions and A is left all alone with his masculinity and he lets it steep into resentment. Also, sometimes you want trans girls with violins blowing up the world.)
Right, I hear what you’re saying but I think there’s a couple of key differences here
First of all, we know for a fact that Roxy being transmasc was prompted by a transmasc writer who was repeatedly & horribly transmisogynistic about transfem headcanons, so I don’t think it’s too much of a stretch to assume that he really did specifically hate transfem Roxy headcanons out of spite so much that he made it an impossible reading in both timelines. But even then — I do think that if somebody specifically just decided Roxy is transfem and everything else from the Epilogues is the same (or magically headcanoned away as making sense somehow) then they would be intentionally misunderstanding & rejecting the text too. Like, that’s ok, that’s literally what a large part of fandom is, but the reasons for doing this are not neutral, and they reflect hegemonies & wider values.
In the case of transfem Roxy the point is to pointedly reject something we think is transmisogynistic — we have been teased with transfem Roxy for years, it’s an obvious & clear reading of her relationship to Callie in Act 6, and so I think it’s a legitimate criticism of the Epilogues. Meanwhile, there straight has not been years of hints for transmasc John, in fact, to headcanon June as transmasc you have to pointedly ignore her already extant queer narrative.
I also think you either misunderstand or are intentionally misunderstanding how alternate realities work in The Homestuck Epilogues & Homestuck Beyond Canon. They are not just one continuation out of many — there is only the two as far as I’m aware. I’m not up to date with HSBC but it’s my understanding that reality was cleft in two.
i agree with you on the Umbrella Academy! because this is something that has been like rebooted to switch things up, those characters are gonna get remixed. i’d love to see a transfem Vanya somewhere down the line. but if i only blogged about the tv show and i was constantly & loudly explaining how i prefer transfem Vanya and how she should be transfem in the show then I think that would obviously be in poor taste.
i think what bothers me is the boldness of so many men to be like “idk i just prefer this as a man character” right in the replies of posts where transfems are gushing about/sharing their transfem headcanons. I can’t even talk about June being trans without a few people saying that, and that’s actually confirmed as 100% happening, so it’s even more impossible to escape with like transfem Link headcanons etc.
i think all in all, transmascs, trans boys & trans men should try and leave more space for their sisters in the community. it is not subversive to wish every character was a man. just misogynistic. leave room for transfems, trans girls & trans women in fandom and beyond, folks.
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