#this is the kind of riff i have been craving

[virtue-and-beneviolence]

okay so, we talked about shuji reacting to a tattoo you got before but what about tattoo artist! shuji, ink and piercings decorating his skin

you come in for your session the first time to see him pull on his gloves, thin-rimmed glasses perched on his nose and amber eyes glinting as he pats the couch he’s sitting in front of; “get comfortable, doll, we’ll be here for a while,” he says, rolling up his sleeves

you can’t really see him as he puts the stencil on your back but you already notice then how hard it’ll be to keep your cool, with his long fingers pressing down along your spine and his low whispers of how good you’re doing for him in the quiet room

by the end of the session, you’re exhausted enough as is when shuji can’t stop himself from sending you a wink coupled with a playful smirk as he hands you his number “you know, if you have any questions you wanna ask before our next date~”

[don’t ask me where this is coming from, but I felt compelled to bother you with it <3]

Tattoo artist shuji is so ungodly sexy you're evil for this holly I'm in public, at a party and I can't indulge properly rn

imagine kicking yourself so! hard! for picking THIS artist of all the guys in the shop for this big backpiece. like, he does great work and you found him from his ART but why did it have to be Hanma motherfuckin Shuji that you had to take your shirt off for? he walks out of the private booth (probably resisting the urge to wink, but the twitch of the corner of his mouth makes the feeling clear anyway).

imagine having to call that attractive tall ass man back in his booth, laying on your shirt, extremely conscious of the side boob you're serving as you wait for him to wipe you down and place the stencil.

just imagine his little half chuckled, "yeahhhh, that's it" when he peels it away because he's proud of the design and it compliments you so well. and your dumb ass is laying there, arms to your ears, head resting on your forearms, trying desperately to hide your incredibly obvious blush and dreading the reminder to stand and check the design in the mirror because it means shyly holding your top to your chest with one arm and the hand mirror in the other while he brushes your ponytail over your shoulder (and then offers a cheeky, "as much as I love playing with your hair, doll, you might want to tie that up in a bun.")

and his hands! those long fingers moving steadily and confidently over your skin, stretching it at times, pressing at others, even rubbing calming circles without thinking much about it when he's made several passes over an obviously tender area to fill it with color. He's mumbling praise, obviously, and stifles a giggle at how tense you get whenever he calls you doll. he avoids that name for a while because as much as he loves to tease, the quality of his work and your experience come first.

at long last he's asking if you've got adhesive allergies and bandaging you up and letting you take a peek. to no one's shock it looks incredible. You reach for the rest of your clothes and he wags his finger and raises an eyebrow at you, "ah-ah, no bra. no friction on that back for at least week, alright?" and when you blush you lie to yourself that it's not about the thought of being on your back at his mercy.

He congratulates you on one long session down and how to contact him for questions and then you realize you get the joy of reliving this lovely (yet embarrassing) experience at least 3 more sessions. oh and on your way out of the booth, loose top on, bra shoved in your bag, he send you off with a "and if you need help taking that bandage off, you can always come back to the shop. after care is on the house."

[vidavalor]

(Non-Frozen) Peas. A Good Omens Sex Meta Thing Side Dish

Shorter little vegetable-themed side dish to Crepes, which you do not have to have read first. All by way of Aziraphale's dirty French in S2 about how he has a craving for Crowley's Eden.

*slips into GO fandom quietly* *whispers*

Do you all realize that another translation of Aziraphale's "Ou est la plume de la jardiniere de ma tante?" is...

"Where is the feathered garden box of my queen?"

I probably don't need to tell you that both 'garden' and 'box' are sexual euphemisms for lady parts and, to make matters funnier, remind you of this scene earlier in the season, in which a literal box became related to... well, it's somewhat open to interpretation so let's just call it a gasp-worthy, part-related situation. :)

"Where is the feathered garden box of my queen?" is Aziraphale saying that it's been a minute since he worshipped Lady Crowley and he misses her.

This would account for Aziraphale's impish "but you understood me" and flirty little smile and wiggles. He's so cute about it that Nina comes out of her coffee shop to try to hear what they're talking about that's made the bookseller look so alive and has Snarky Sunglasses all flustered.

Crowley's "Only because, for two hundred and fifty years, you've been wittering on about the plume of your imaginary 'tante.'" = "Only because, ever since you took French lessons the human way, I've had to listen to you euphemistically referring to my occasional wild flower garden and calling me your queen in two different languages and I love to hate how much I absolutely love it."

We know that Crowley did understand Aziraphale and not just because he also speaks French but because his traditional choices in translating it back to Aziraphale in protest-- "you don't have an aunt, she doesn't have a gardener and he doesn't have a... pen"-- is intentionally a bit incorrect because Aziraphale used the feminine French word for 'gardener'-- la jardiniere-- in his sentence. As a result, Crowley is protesting that "the gardener" is a he right now, Aziraphale, and he doesn't have a-- pause of 'wait, this isn't going to work if I translate 'plume' as 'feathers'-- euphemistic or literal-- as I have both so I'll go with the other thing the word means instead'--... pen.

(Which winds up even funnier since a pen is phallic and euphemistic, in this sense, for currently having a penis, which is actually Crowley's current state of effort in that moment. Hold those thoughts until we get to turnips and inkwells down below lol.)

A 'plume' in French is a pen, a feather, a quill, and a cloud of rising smoke. In Good Omens, it's also used in the smoke-like definition by Michael to describe the pink plume of magical energy that came from the bookshop when Crowley and Aziraphale miracled together. Crowley responded with 'pen'-- which is a riff on the fact that Aziraphale is riffing on "la plume de ma tante", a cliched line said derogatorily to mean 'those sentences that you learn when you learn a new language that you'd never say in real life.' Crowley used 'aunt', 'gardener' and 'pen' as the translation in reference to the cliche Aziraphale was referencing. Aziraphale, though, adjusted the line, as we saw-- adding words to it to make it a stealth, flirty request-- and Crowley did hear the innuendo. Crowley correctly heard Aziraphale using 'plume' in the 'feather' sense (hilariously, considering that they have actual feathers in their angel/demon forms lol), with the 'feather'-context 'plume' being euphemistic for Crowley keeping it real down below.

(It could be worse, Crowley. He could be in a blasphemous mood and referring to it as "The Burning Bush"... which I feel like you'd actually find hilarious but anyway, moving on...)

In English, appropriated from the French, a 'jardiniere' is a flower box/garden planter. 'Tante' is French for 'aunt' but it's also a word meaning both 'queen'/'pansy' in the queer sense of the words (a 'pansy' also being a kind of flower, of course, adding to the Eden motif that "*the* Southern Pansy" Aziraphale has going on for his gardener partner here) but 'tante' is also one of the words that just means 'queen' as well, in the 'regal' sense of the word. It might not be the first word Aziraphale would use if he were, instead, speaking a sentence in French about, say, Queen Camilla-- but it's maybe a more appropriate one for flirting with his gender-everything partner by telling him in French that it's been too long since he spent some quality time with his queen's jardiniere.

'A la jardiniere' is also a French cooking term. It translates as "in the manner of the gardener's wife" (Gabriel: "Whatever that is."). It is obviously an archaic-sounding term when it comes to gender but, for the purposes of metaphor here, it's actually a little useful. The phrase is born out of the idea that the chef would be male, straight and married and that his wife would be keeping their kitchen garden-- which, even though she was probably running it, is credited to him, because the patriarchy-- from which fresh vegetables could easily be picked and used in a dish. As such, it's a lot more fun that Aziraphale is using the French here because the actual gardener doing the garden work in the definition of 'jardiniere' is specifically female by the term's description, so it's another way to reference Crowley's femininity.

There's also, of course, that "in the manner of the gardener's wife" is about as porny a definition for a phrase that can possibly be translated from one language to another lol and so adds to the idea of 'jardiniere' being sexually euphemistic. Atop that, there's the fact that the word itself relates food to romance and sex by referring to the chef and the gardener as married in its definition. The second half of this scene is the Nina & Crowley "partners" conversation. In a season that has Crowley and Aziraphale unable to deal with words like 'couple' and 'partners', if only Maggie and Nina understood that maybe they don't know how to use traditional words but damned if Aziraphale isn't already on covertly calling Crowley his spouse when flirting with him.

While 'a la jardiniere' is a cooking term, 'la jardiniere/jardiniere' is also a French food term. It is a side dish or a garnish of mixed vegetables, usually spring garden vegetables. So, carrots, green beans, potatoes (Crowley: "You say 'potato', I say 'excellent'" lol), turnips (Aziraphale can turn garden variety sex into inkwells!-- haha 'garden' pun, get it? please send help-- and inkwells are the things one dips a quill pen into.... and, now, we're back to the 'pen' translation of 'la plume...').

The most signature vegetables of jardiniere, though, are peas.

As Crowley would tell Shax and anyone who will listen, literal ducks-the-water-fowl need not get their actual jardiniere defrosted.

Aziraphale-- the more discerning duck-- likes his hot, though.

~~~

If you have not already and would like to read more meta like this:

[anthemofgvf]

Deja Vu: Jake Kiszka x Reader Fanfiction

description: between a span of nearly two years, you and jake would have occasional hookups every time he was back in town after touring. but once he abruptly stopped shooting you texts and seeing you, you figured you two were done for, and you despised ever spending time on him. so, once you see him in your local bar after six months, you're caught off guard with anger, but remembrance of how much you missed him, and how you truly feel about him.

word count: 7.7k+

warnings under cut:

warnings: angst - lots of it, a good amount of plot, swearing, smut (18+ minors dni!), praise kink, light degrading, fingering, light choking, unprotected sex, minimal begging, possible breeding kink ( no verbal mentions of it, only actions), overstimulation, light fluff, mention/usage of alcohol.

a/n: i hope you guys enjoy this little enemies to lovers oneshot i threw together. i just feel like jake fits this trope so much, and i've been wanting a fic with him in this trope. so, here's my little take on it for you all to enjoy:) ( also, warning, this is FILTHY. reader discretion advised )

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

You met him after one of his concerts in Michigan. His presence was captivating, with his brown hair that rested just below his shoulders, a shirt that only hung open with a few buttons that revealed dangling silver necklaces. His stage persona that had everyone's eyes glued on him, whether it was his turn for the spotlight or not. You couldn't tear your eyes or mind away from the guitarist. There was just something about him.

Something about the way he played skillful riffs on his guitar, the way he threw his head back and hissed tight breaths through his teeth. How he would wear a light smirk as he gazed down into the crowd and notice hundreds of fans screaming his name and raising his confidence to an all-time high. And when he'd look over to his bandmates, especially the singer, he'd wear a kind smile and playfully strut around the stage with him in his full element.

Your wishful hopes of seeing him outside of the concert lied in a nearby bar as you took small, gracious sips from your drink. So, when your prayers were answered, and you saw him inside the bar nearby, your heart began to skip a few beats. Your stomach was filled with a tingling sensation you compared to butterflies fluttering around excitedly in your gut. You took your chances on introducing yourself, because something in you told yourself that there was a chance something could come out of it.

He took your introduction with gratitude, telling you his name was Jake Kiszka. And once you told him your own name, it never left his lips.

Every time he spoke to you, every time he held you close to his body and trailed his lips down your neck, every time he pounded into you in any secluded area with appraisal. Every time he hummed your name when he cradled you close to his chest post-sex. He was an addictive drug that you couldn't break the habit of craving.

But you never saw him outside of your home state. He'd usually shoot you a text telling you he'd be in town, eventually figuring out that he was from there and lived somewhere you had never heard of before. He'd promise you that he'd see you the next time, and the next.

"I'll be back before you know it."

"I miss you - all of you. You know I think about you every night, right y/n?"

The simple sentences would keep you wrapped around his finger, and it seemed like that was his plan. The visits became less and less, but that didn't stop you from growing excited when you'd see a single notification from him telling you that he was stopping in town for a few days. But, when he stopped telling you he'd be back in town or wouldn't stop by his usual bar he'd hang out at with his band after a concert, you figured that was it. You should've expected it, since it was apparent that he was slowly pushing you away. It had been at least a year and a half of hookups and simple flirtatious chats. Nothing serious was supposed to come out of it, and you knew that. But you also had wished that after all that time his mind would change.

Your thoughts of him were filled with regret. Ashamed that you let him trick your oblivious mind into believing that he would stop the sleezy hookups and take you out on a romantic date, or perhaps turn your sexual relationship into something meaningful. His words that told you his mind was on another page than his actions. It was hurtful the first few months of no contact, but after it hit at least half a year of no responses, you eventually just grew hatred for him. Simple reminders on the internet told you that he was still out there in existence, but you eventually were able to steer clear of any media pertaining him and his band, and he became a distant memory.

You still attended the bar, since it was close to your home and a popular hangout spot for you and your friends with cheap drinks and an easy way to get drunk. There was a time when you hoped that one night he'd walk in and come running to you, but after time fleeted by long enough, you stopped caring, and you prayed that he'd never return.

But you found yourself alone at the bar on a Friday night after your friend cancelled last minute. Although you could've just stayed in for the night and relaxed after a long week of work, you chose to pleasure yourself with a few drinks to let off some steam.

"Your usual?" The bartender, Steve, asked you. You became familiar with him after your weekly visits at the local bar.

"Yeah, sure." You nodded with a sigh, folding your hands together on the tabletop and watching him make the drink.

He mixed your cocktail skillfully, finishing it within a few minutes and sliding it over to you, letting you know he'd put it on your tab.

Your eyes lingered around the dimly lit bar, searching for something to focus your eyes on. People scattered around the bar, talking amongst each other with drinks accompanied in their hands, a few dancing after having one too many drinks, people exiting and entering the bar. It was all a comforting, familiar scene, but you'd forgotten how boring it was when alone. Sure, you made small talk with the bartender, maybe a few regulars that took their place next to you, but you mainly just kept to yourself.

So, when your eyes found three familiar faces entering the bar, your heart began to beat against your chest at a rapid pace and send your ears ringing. You hadn't expected to see Jake's friend back in the bar after all this time, let alone Jake himself. This place was a sacred haven that finally was free of his presence, but now, he has sinfully graced it again with his bandmates. His face was in full form, and you swore you forgotten what he looked like, let alone his bandmates. But this was proven untrue the second you recognized them in the pool of strangers.

You recognized the two accompanying him to be Danny and Sammy. Josh was forgotten from the picture, knowing him, he was probably at home "recharging" his social battery. You needed a few more drinks to forget you saw their faces, or better yet, walk home and leave there all together.

You hid your face in your drink, finishing it off with a few sips and calling the bartender back over to make you a second one.

"Tequila Sunrise?" A familiar voice said from next to you, causing your head to whip towards the man.

"Yeah, it's what I usually get." You nodded at Danny with a small smile, accepting the second drink and watching his face go through some remembrance phase of recollecting who you were. He knew you from somewhere, he just hadn't put the pieces of the distant memorial puzzle together quite yet.

"Wait, y/n?" His lips curled into a smile, eyes widening slightly. "Holy shit, how long has it been?"

"Long enough," you sighed, "can't believe you remember me."

"Well, you were one of the only girls Jake actually introduced us to and that we all liked. How've you been holding up?"

"Alright. What about you, huh?"

"Not too bad myself. The guys are doing great. I'm actually with Jake and Sam right now." He pointed his thumb behind him, turning his head over his shoulder before meeting your eyes again.

"Oh, really?" You acted surprised.

"I can go grab them if you-."

"Oh, no, no. It's fine. I don't want to see them." You took another sip of your drink, crossing your hands over each other. "Jake and I didn't end off on good terms."

"I was wondering why we stopped seeing you. Or, perhaps, why Jake stopped seeing you." He called the bartender over after, ordering himself a beer.

"Your best guess is mine," you raised your glass to your lips, "he just stopped talking to me one day. Piece of shit."

"Gosh, I'm sorry. I just figured-."

"Danny, my man, I've been looking for ya." Jake came between the middle of you two, patting his hand on his friend's back.

Danny's eyes flicked to you, then to his friend with a shy smile, nodding his head and taking a sip of his drink. Jake turned his head over his shoulder, examining you as your eyes averted to your glass. You didn't know the expression he had held onto his face, but whatever it was, your face grew red hot with the knowledge of his eyes lingering on you. Steam leaving your face, your empty hand balling into a tight fist. You had prayed that he wouldn't recognize who you were, or maybe pretend that he didn't know you.

"Long time no see, y/n." He leaned onto his arm between you and Danny, a signal for him to find his friend.

You haven't heard your name leave his lips in a long time, let alone his voice ringing into your ears. It was something you were grateful to forget, but now you were given a reminder that had begun to burn into your brain. You had once been comforted of his voice, but now, it only twisted at your stomach and made you feel the closet thing you could to being ill.

You let your head turn to see him in full view, immediately regretting your decision once the details of his face were lit right in front of you. His light brown eyes that were shaded by black-rounded sunglasses, his lips rested into a smug grin, his shirt unbuttoned low enough to reveal his infamous silver necklaces. Every second of examination was enough to make you slam your drink back, grab your things and leave him without uttering a word.

"Wait, hey, hey!" He called after you, tugging at your arm in the crowds of people that filled the bar.

"What do you want, Jake?" You fully turned to him and shook your arm out of his grasp with a tired voice.

He stood there for a few moments with an astonished expression. "I just...wanted to see how you were doing. Haven't seen you in a while."

"Yeah, and that's your fucking fault. If you actually cared about how I was doing, maybe you would've shot me a text once or twice."

"I'm sorry I-."

"Sorry? You're sorry?" You scoffed, following if with a spiteful chuckle. "I don't care that I was just some girl that you hooked up with every now and then, but you could have at least been a decent human being and told me our little thing was done." You shoved your finger into his chest.

His mouth hung agape; he tilted his head back as he tried to console his own frustrations. He felt goosebumps creep onto the back of his neck once he realized a few bystanders noticed your light outburst.

"Let me at least take you home, alright? Call you an Uber or something." He opened his palms to you.

"And why would I let you do that?" You folded your arms together and kept your stern glare.

He furrowed his brows. "Because I feel like a bit of an asshole for how I ended things."

You sighed deeply and brought your fingers to the bridge of your nose. You pinched at the stressed skin in thought. You could only imagine yourself regretting letting him talk to you after all this time, but you remembered that once you felt nothing but adoration for him. Accepting his simple gesture could've been the end of it and you wouldn't have to see him again.

"What about your friends?"

"Don't worry about 'em. I'll just let them know I'm accompanying you for a bit." He held your eyes with a slight smile and a nod over to them.

You exhaled deeply and threw your hands up in the air. "Fine, alright. We're walking, by the way."

He gave you a light smirk of gratitude that he got his way. "Forgot your apartment was close by." He nodded in recollection, then telling you to give him a few seconds to notify his friends of the plan and to meet him outside. It was odd that you were frustrated with how he remembered where your apartment was, because it seemed like he had forgotten all about you. Now, it was as if no time had passed since he left you in the dust without a single word.

As much as you tricked yourself into believing that you shouldn't trust him, you found yourself standing outside of the bar and rapidly tapping your foot against the pavement that lined the busy streets of the night.

He met you at your side, hands shoved into his pocket with brows raised to let you know he was ready to follow you back to your apartment.

You didn't want to say much to him, since he was only supposed to be walking you back home and nothing more. What else were you supposed to say to him other than express your hatred towards him for leaving you quite literally high and dry six months ago?

"You never answered my question, by the way." His voice stopped your thoughts, and your eyes landed on him with a cocked brow. "I asked you how you've been."

"Oh," you gave him a single nod, "fine. Great, actually." You gave him a small smile and kept your eyes focused in front of you after letting your eyes linger onto him for too long for comfort.

"Not that you were going to ask, but I've been doing okay myself." He spoke lightly, releasing a soft chuckle to soothe the tension radiating between you two. All you gave him was a simple nod and kept to yourself. "Was surprised to run into you, actually. It's been a while since we've been to that bar."

"Trying to avoid me, huh?" You dared to look at him once more with aggravation. All he gave you was a sigh, and called it quits of trying to make more small talk on the walk back to your apartment.

And once you finally hit the steps that lead to your complex, you walked up to the door without acknowledging him. But once you noticed that he continued to follow you, you couldn't help but want to try and stop his actions.

"I didn't invite you in." You shook your head.

"I know. But I told you I'd walk you home." He shrugged with his hands still stuffed into his pockets.

You let your eyes roll dramatically, releasing a grunt of aggravation. "You've walked me far enough, Jacob. Don't push it."

He took a few steps forward up the steps that led to you. You had your arms folded tightly into your chest as you watched his every move. Although your nostrils flared, eyebrows pulled together tightly with every movement he made, he didn't have an ounce of care that you were becoming more and more upset with him. He wore a devious smirk, knowing that he was crawling under your skin. Any ounce of attention you gave him was just enough for him to continue to push the boundaries.

You scoffed. "You're not going to leave me alone, huh?"

"Nope." He gave you a smug grin and a shake of his head, with his long locks of hair bouncing off his shoulders.

"Funny to see you care about my well-being after all this time." You muttered to yourself, letting him follow you up the short flight of stairs that led to your apartment door and still deciding to not say another word to him.

And once you both reached the door, you stood there for a moment with hesitation. You were being an asshole, although it was within right reason, you still felt shitty about it all. After all, he was at least making an effort to walk you back, but it could've just been him trying to have another quick hookup with you again. Because that's all you were to him, at least, that's what it's always been.

He removed his sunglasses from his face and slid them into his back pocket to reveal his soft, brown eyes that wore slight wrinkles at the corners of them. "Can we talk, please?" He tried to meet your eyes that scattered around in your purse to search for your keys.

"There's nothing to talk about, Jake. You made it very clear to me that you wanted nothing to do with me six months ago." You shot your eyes up at him, then focusing on unlocking your door with your keys that fumbled in your frantic hands.

"Can I at least explain myself?"

"Why should I grant you that after all this time?" You stopped your motions and looked at him once more.

"Because I owe you an explanation, y/n." His face contorted into some sort of sympathetic look, with his lips downturned into the slightest frown, and his brows resting close to his eyes.

You swallowed the knot in your throat, flicking your eyes between his own before unlocking your door fully, pushing it open and turning to him. He stood there, trying to make out if this was you allowing his entrance into your apartment. But, when you left the door open after pulling the keys out, he took the opportunity and shut the door behind him as he followed you inside.

You threw your shoes off, your purse to follow next onto your kitchen counter than flopping yourself onto the couch in your small makeshift living room. He watched your tense actions, only taking a few cautious steps towards you, but not enough to meet you at the couch.

"Why didn't you text me?" You stared blankly at the coffee table that sat in front of you. He took a few more steps towards you, finally reaching the arm of the couch, furthest from you. "I know I was just someone you saw every now and then, but it still hurt, Jake. I mean, I spent almost two years seeing you. And then one day, you just stop texting me, stop calling me. I know it's not because you weren't going to be in town anytime soon, 'cause you told me that you would be back in two months."

He brought his hand to his forehead and ran it over the skin. He decided on sitting next to you, but not close enough to make you uncomfortable with his presence.

"Well, I-."

"I want honesty, full honesty, Jake. Don't care if it'll hurt me. Won't make me feel more upset than I already was, or am, I guess." You gestured with your hands then folded them together and waited for his response.

He nodded and hesitated with a swallow before meeting your eyes. "Felt like it went on too long for it to not mean anything. I realized I was starting to grow feelings for you, get attached - all that stuff," he paused, "and I at first I wasn't looking for romance, mainly because I'm usually never home for long periods of time. And, well, I didn't want to put you through a relationship that would have been hard to start with me on the road all the time." He shrugged.

You didn't know how to react, so your face went through a multitude of reactions to his words and finally reserving to an astounded one. After all this time, he felt the way you did, but he was right. It was hard to make something out of your guys' casual hookups when he was on the road for most of the time.

"You could've at least told me." You refused to believe that that was the end of it. That there should've been a reason for you to still be upset with him.

"I didn't know how to tell you, y/n. I didn't want to end things, but that seemed like the only solution." His lips pressed tightly together, hanging his head low and giving you a weak shrug. "I feel like an asshole for it, believe me. So, when I saw you in the bar, I knew I had to say something. And all I can really say is that I'm sorry."

You scrunched your eyes tightly together, eyebrows pulled tightly together. "Instead of texting me you chose to just wait until you saw me again?"

"Would you have responded to me if I did?" His eyes landed on yours again, and all you could do was stare at him for a moment, before hanging your head down and sighing deeply. "I felt like it would be more meaningful rather than texting you. Besides, I've missed you...and your voice."

You couldn't have let him in this easily. Your heart had started to remember the familiar beat that it had taken when you would be with him, how it felt when you were with him. You knew you were still upset with Jake, but you couldn't push the feeling that crept from your gut and into your heart.

"I can't accept your apology. You can't just waltz back into my life after all this time and expect everything to be okay between us. It doesn't matter that I was just some girl you had sex with time and time again, it's the fact that you completely cut all contact with me and come back expecting me to be at your feet. Can't believe you think I'd forgive you that easily." You exhaled through your nose. "Thanks for walking me back home and telling me this, but I think you should go now."

He cocked his brow, seemingly confused that you didn't just accept his apology and, conclusively, you two were on good terms now. He knew that it wouldn't be easy to gain any sort of sympathy or trust from you, but he had at least hoped that some part of you would let him back into your life or give him some kind words to remember you by.

But the truth was, this wasn't the last time he wanted to see you. He spent those six months missing you, regretting not shooting you a text. He figured his time was up, and it was too late for him to apologize to you. He just needed to see you again, to tell you how he felt, to see that you understood how terrible he felt.

But his words weren't enough, and as stubborn as he was, he figured that was all he could give you.

So, he stood up from your couch, and you followed him to the door with slow strides behind him while watching as he reached for the doorknob before turning to you.

"Thanks for letting me come in for a few." He gave you a singular nod. His voice was low into a whisper, voice laced with slight regret that matched the paining feeling his heart was filled with.

"And thanks for walking me home," you folded your arms together, "and apologizing." You said with a dragged breath.

He released his hand from the doorknob, turning his body towards you and flicking his eyes between your lips and your eyes.

Within a swift motion, he grabbed your face with his hands and pressed his plush lips onto yours harshly, but then melting the kiss into a softer, more meaningful one. He had missed the way your lips tasted, and you hated to admit it, but you missed his mouth on your own. The way his calloused fingers found themselves tangled into your hair. The way he sharply inhaled at the first kiss that always gave you the same gut feeling as it did the moment his lips met yours for the first time.

As much as it would satisfy you to say no, push him away and make him feel regretful of his choices more than he already had, you couldn't deny how your heart banged against your ribcage with need. Your body language told you the opposite of what your mind felt, but your brain began to mush all those hatred thoughts down and bring you back in time for a moment. You were back to how you always felt when he finally came back home and visited you - none of this was foreign to you. It wasn't a rewarding feeling that you had gone back to your old ways so quickly, but with his mouth on yours, you no longer wanted to deny how much you desperately wanted him back anymore.

You unfolded your arms and placed one hand on his back, and the other on his chest to push him far enough for you to look at him. The quick change of the mood had you forgetting for a moment why you were upset with him. All you could think about was how it felt for him to be this close to your body, how his lips fit onto yours in the perfect way they always had, how his hands knew where to touch you and where to travel on your body as if they never left there before.

"I still hate you, Jake." You ran your hand down his chest with a small smirk creeping onto your lips. You tried to bite it back, but the muscles of your face were controlling your expressions in ways you didn't want to show.

"I know. Still wasn't going to miss my chance to kiss you again." He rested his forehead upon yours and releasing a soft chuckle.

"You've always been kind of an asshole, huh?" Your eyes lifted through your lids and met his.

"Some things never change."

And you realized how true his words were. Not with him being an asshole, but with your feelings. After all this time, you still missed him deeply. And now you had him right here with you, and who knows when the next time would be when you would see him again, if there were to be a next time. But with the newly found news that he started to grow feelings for you, you had a bit of hope inside of you to trust that he'd finally make up his mind with deciding whatever it was between you guys. After all, you couldn't mistake the chemistry between you two.

You pulled him back onto your lips with your hand pressed onto the back of his head and your other arm snaked around his neck, opening your mouth against his and accepting his invitation to invade your mouth with his tongue.

He slipped his shoes off, not daring to break from your lips as he quickly unbuttoned whatever buttons were left clasped together on his shirt and shrugged it off his shoulders. You were given the opportunity to feel the smooth skin you had missed laying your fingers upon, scratching at his back when the time was right. But for now, you just let one hand run up his toned chest, then crawling its way to his broad shoulders to try and soak up the memory of how his skin felt under your touch.

His lips traveled to your jaw, his hands landing on your hips and pulling them closer to his own as his mouth sucked at your neck. You let your head tilt back as he continued to sink his teeth delicately into the skin, your mouth dropping open and releasing a relieved, pleasurable sigh.

His fingers trailed to the hem of your tank top, tugging at it a few times as his mouth left a few more open, sloppy kisses below your jaw and then finally giving in to throw it over you when your arms involuntarily threw themselves up to help him out. Your eyes fluttered shut once his mouth traveled down from your jugular and to the top of your breast, one hand massaging the other.

"Jake," you moaned, your hands traveling into his hair and then to his chin to bring him up to eye level.

"What?"

"We're not doing this out here." You shook your head with a giggle. He gave you a puzzled expression, but then relaxing it into a knowing smirk that told you he knew what you meant.

His lips met yours again, placing an open-mouthed kiss with a deep groan bubbling in his throat. "Was thinking about bending you over on the counter. That alright with you?" He spoke into your lips.

"If we're doing this, we're doing it my way. Since, y'know, I'm letting this happen." You slotted your lips with his once before cocking your head to the side.

"Fair enough." He shrugged. He bent his knees, lifting you into his arms with a slight grunt and carrying you over to where your bedroom was.

He landed you onto the bed, you immediately scooting backwards with a giggle as he crawled with you, finding your lips again and dragging his tongue alongst your bottom lip.

"Did you think I was going to let you fuck me on my counter?" You laughed into his lips, to which he switched to trailing his mouth down your neck.

"Was worth a shot. Figured you missed me enough to not really care." He hummed against your ear, then dragging his tongue along the side of your neck.

You moaned lowly, a hand finding its way into his hair. "It's cute that you think I missed you."

He raised himself from your neck, planting his hands on either sides of your head and looking at you with an open-mouthed smirk, tilting his head to the side and examining your face.

"Oh, I must be mistaken then for thinking that you are letting this happen because you missed me. Forgot how much you hated me." He widened his eyes for a moment with playful sarcasm.

"Just shut up and kiss me, 'kay?" You said with an eyeroll and pulled his lips back onto yours with both of your hands on his cheeks.

He hummed into your lips, tugging at your bottom lip with his teeth and dragging it out of your kiss, then pressing another kiss onto your lips before making his way to your breasts.

You lifted your back and unclasped your bra, throwing it off to the side and keeping your hands tangled in his hair, but eventually letting one hand run off to his toned back and tracing his spine as his lips wrapped around your hardened bud. His tongue circled your areola, humming as he held your other nipple between his fingers and twisted at it lightly. Your chest raised into his mouth and touch, head tilted back and mouth exhaling light moans of satisfaction.

Your rapid breathing became more apparent to you once his mouth traveled down your body and you watched your chest rise and fall quickly with every step he got closer to your shorts. He looked up at you through hooded eyes for approval, and you lifted your hips for him and allowed him to pull them off of your legs while he rested on his knees. His eyes flicked down to the exposed era, rubbing his lips together and deciding to crawl back up to you and cradling your face into a kiss while his other hand held at your waist.

He let his thumb knead into your hip bone as your body involuntarily bucked your hips into him, sending him to groan into your lips. His hand snaked between your connected bodies, parting from your mouth just to watch how your face contorted pleasurably as he dragged his fingers up your slit. Your eyes met his at his actions, and you saw how his mouth hung open similarly to yours with a soft smile, just in awe at how perfect you looked when under his touch.

You tugged at your bottom lip once he started to circle your clit. Your head had rested back into the pillow and your hips lifted into his motions, finally allowing yourself to release any noises that escaped your lips. You no longer cared how needy you sounded. All you could feel was his fingers on you and the blankets that rested beneath you, along with his jagged breaths that hit your nose.

"Feel good?" He asked as if he needed an answer. All you did was whine in approval, rolling your head onto your shoulder and focusing on the movement of his calloused fingertips.

He pressed another kiss onto your lips as he slid a single finger inside of you and curling it. Your mouth gasped onto his, eyes opening and seeing that he was watching you attentively. You couldn't help but swear under your breath, gripping at his shoulders and digging into them with your nails.

And another finger slid into you, pumping in and out of you at a moderate pace just to let your high build up slowly. He wanted to savor this moment with you, just to remember how you looked while his fingers curled inside of you.

"You missed me a little, huh?" He pressed a kiss onto your ear.

"Shut up, fuck." You whined. "Do you ever stop talking?"

He chuckled, lifting his head back in front of yours. He knew your question was rhetorical, but still chose to respond anyways. "Just like seeing you try talking to me when my fingers are inside of you."

"How romantic." You followed with another swear, rolling your eyes back as he continued to hit that sweet spot inside of you with each time his fingers reentered.

"Don't gotta tell me you missed me. I know you did, y/n." He said cockily into your lips as he picked up his pace on his fingers and pressed his thumb into your clit.

You let your lips relax into a smile, tugging at your bottom lip and suppressing your pathetic whines of his name. You had let his name slip of your mouth once or twice, which spurred him on more, but you still weren't going to give him the satisfactory feeling of knowing that his name was the only thing that you could say.

Your nails dug deeper into his shoulder and one hand rested at his face. Your head had rested itself onto his and you tried to kiss him, but your mouth preferred to just moan sounds of euphoric bliss while his fingers worked inside of you. You seemed to not have any force in your body to lift your head up and press your lips onto his, but that didn't matter. It was gratifying enough just to lose your vision in his eyes while he watched you intently.

He knew you were close to finishing by the way your walls sucked him in a bit easier, the way your eyebrows furrowed and then relaxed. The way your whines grew louder. It was all familiar to him. He had never forgotten how your body worked, even after all his time. Your body was a temple he praised, and he thought deserved appraisal.

He still liked talking you through it, despite you telling him to keep his mouth shut. He knew you better than to not stop himself from speaking. You craved the specific tone of his voice that would only be apparent in such an environment.

"Gonna cum for me sweet girl, yeah?" He spoke with a grumble in his throat, and airy moans that lifted the corners of his lips into a small smile.

You nodded with a hum as the familiar, tingling sensation knotted into your stomach, and your entire body tuned to his fingers and the way he watched over you in adoration. Those damned hands of his that worked magically inside of you each time, and you shunned yourself in your mind for forgetting how he was the only man to ever bring you to your release effortlessly.

Your back arched off of the bed as your eyes squeezed shut, releasing a loud moan of his name and a few swears tumbling out of your mouth incoherently. He slowed his fingers, coaxing you through your orgasm and watching you come down from your high that had you seeing white. Your legs quivered with each light curl he placed onto your sacred spot and slowly rubbing at your clit to drain you of any energy you had left in your body.

He pressed a kiss onto your temple, removing his fingers from inside of you and raising them to his lips. He admired his glistening fingers, twisting his wrist and letting the moonlight aluminate the sight.

"Open that pretty mouth for me." He pressed his fingers onto your lips, to which you obliged and wrapped your mouth around his fingers, sucking softly as he rested them on your tongue. His eyes fluttered at the feeling of your tongue cleaning his fingers, and he released them from your mouth and pressed a gentle, but passionate kiss onto your lips.

He stood from the bed, keeping his eyes locked with yours and unbuckling his belt. He slid off his dress pants and briefs followed with the motion. Your eyes landed on his hand stroking over himself while lightly squeezing at the tip that was decorated with a salty bead of precum. He was a perfect portrait in front of you; his eyes landed onto your bare breasts as he continued pumping himself slowly, then choosing to meet your eyes with his that were hooded with lust.

He crawled on top of you, pulling your hips closer to him once he rested onto his knees and bringing your legs to wrap them around his waist. You had no fight in you to disobey the motions, as much as you wanted to take control for once and watch him diminish pleasurably under you. But as he lined himself up with you, dragging his plump tip down your slit to soak up the wetness that he helped produce from you, you just begged with a light whine for him to continue. His eyes met yours as he pushed just the tip into your sensitive entrance and waiting patiently to see how you whined from the light stretch that was unfamiliar to you for too long of a time. But as he braced himself on his hands, then reserving one hand to the top of the headboard, he fully sunk himself into you with a light groan of satisfaction.

His hips rolled into you slowly with his bottom lip tucked under his front teeth. He swore under his breath as he lowered his head down. It had been forever since this feeling graced him, and he didn't want to escape it too soon. Frankly, you didn't either. Although your body was pleading for the friction to not occur, the tingling sensation that was painful grew into a pleasurable one that you didn't want to stop.

His silver jewelry dangled in front of your face, and it seemed like it was a call for you to tug onto it. So, you pulled on the necklaces and brought him down to you, opening your mouth on his with a loud sigh in desperate attempt to kiss him. He met the movements of your lips with a deep exhale and his eyes shutting tightly. The friction between you two had him grunting into your lips and bringing his mouth to your ear just to allow you to hear the words that muttered from his mouth.

"Fuck," he groaned, "you gonna tell me you didn't miss me now?"

You released a light whine that came out more breathlessly than you intended. "No, no Jake."

He hummed with satisfaction. As he placed a kiss onto your ear, he said, "good girl, good fucking girl."

That nickname he used to call you had you trembling around his hips. He knew that those sacred words had you falling under a lustful spell, and you were lost in the trance of the feeling of him pounding into you with a deep, but quick pace. You were no stranger to how rough he liked to be with you, but in this moment, he didn't want to start it out like that. He wanted to show you that you were meant to be treated preciously, only granting you delighted feelings that you deserved.

He brought his head up from the crook of your neck after spending time moaning against the skin of it with open-mouthed kisses. He titled his chin down to you with his mouth parted open. His eyes fluttered close just for a moment at the feeling of your nails digging into his lower back, which only made him buck his hips into you with more aggressive force. As much as he wanted to savor in this moment, your impressions that your nails were creating only told him otherwise.

He brought his hand that gripped tightly onto the headboard of your bed and brought it to your neck in attempt to force you to look up to him. The lewd sounds that curated between yours and his's skin contact brought you back out of your fucked state, along with the light grip around your throat.

You looked up to him as tears brewed at the sides of your eyes. You followed with a loud, breathless whine of his name, stirring him into a craze and groaning a deep hum that only told you he was enjoying your voice.

"Keep making those pretty sounds for me, sweetheart." He lowered his head down to you more. The position for him was only a bit uncomfortable, but with the friction of him sliding in and out of you, that was the last thing on his mind. "Tell me you missed me."

You tried to roll your head back in slight aggravation that he was still desperate to hear you say that, but his grip only tightened on your throat and forcing your head up as his fingers pressed onto the back of your neck. "Jake-."

"Y/n," he whined, "I missed you. Missed all of you, so fucking much. Missed fucking you and hearing you, missed everything. You wanna be a good girl and return the favor by telling me you missed me, too?"

"I missed you, fuck!" You threw your head back with enough force to battle his hand, gripping onto his waist tightly that you were sure was going to draw blood from the imprints. "I missed you, Jake." You said breathlessly, looking up to him with a small pout in attempt to mask your pleasured cries.

His lips curled into a devilish grin. He had finally gotten you to say what he wanted to hear from you all night. He was utterly satisfied with your words. "Wasn't that hard, huh?"

You let out a huffed laugh, shaking your head. His hand moved back up to the headboard with his arm raised up on the side of your face. All you could mutter was his name, and that was enough for him.

He looked down at you with blown eyes, dark and filled with the necessity to chase his release. You warned him that your own was approaching quickly, and he continued his thrusts at a relentless pace. You felt as though you were losing your hearing, with his loud groans snapping you back into reality and watching him unravel from above you.

"Cum with me, sweet girl, come on, shit." He said through gritted teeth. You tightened your legs around his waist to hold him there, filling him with the quick realization you wanted him to stay inside of you and fill you with his release.

His thrusts became lazy, dragging them out at an unsteady pace as his orgasm overtook his body. He threw his head back with his eyes rolled into the back of his head, then looking down to you with shaky breaths exhaling through his panting mouth. He continued to drive you to your release, that followed shortly behind, having your legs tremble around him and your back arching up from the bed.

You fell onto the mattress with sigh as your legs removed themselves from his waist and stayed propped up at his sides. He placed a quick kiss upon your damp, sweaty forehead before removing himself slowly with his eyes squinted tightly.

He glanced down at your entrance and noticed his cum dripping from your entrance. He dared to bring his hands to your slight and watch the liquid slowly fall, although you squirmed from his touch. He just looked at you with admiration, smirking up to you and picking himself up from the bed and made his way to your bathroom that stayed just outside of your bedroom.

He came back with a white hand towel in his grasp to clean you up. You always enjoyed the tender care he took with you, especially post-sex. Even though your vision told you to shut your eyes, you didn't dare to look away from him cleaning you gently and pressing light kisses on the insides of your thighs.

"Are you," you breathed, "are you leaving me tonight?"

He looked up to you with his eyebrows quirked up. "No, I'm not leaving you, y/n. Don't plan on leaving you again. That okay with you?"

You vigorously nodded without a single thought. You were no longer upset with him, especially after how he had sent you through two pleasurable orgasms and spoke to you with appraisal. You knew he meant it. You knew he was truthful as he brought you into his arms with your head rested into his chest that glistened with light sweat.

"I'll never forgive you if you do, you know that?" You looked up to him. He met your eyes and gave you a small smile.

"So, you don't hate me anymore then?"

You shook your head with a quick roll of your eyes. "Less than I did before. It's gonna take you a little longer to fully gain my trust back and forgive you."

He gave you a single nod of understanding. "Thankfully, I have a ton of time to make all of this up to you." He pressed a kiss onto the top of your head and tugged you closer to his chest as a signal that he wanted to get some rest, and have you fall asleep in his arms. And, hopefully, this would be how you two would spend all of your nights together.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

taglist: @gvfpal @sacredjake @joshkiszkas @joshysgirl @jakesguitarsolo @joshismulletdaddy @char289 @ohgodthefeeling-gvf

[vo-kopen]

I briefly was interested when I saw the first issue of a new Edge of Spiderverse comic was beginning before rapidly losing interest. The synopsis claims it will be starting “the build to the biggest Spider-Versal story (marvel) has EVER DONE!” And that immediately pushes me away.

I wanted to see some windows into other spider realities, this is an anthology about parallel realities, can’t that be enough? Does it need to lead into a crisis? Does it even make sense for there to be a crisis? The comics Spiderverse has been almost destroyed so many times in the last few years, it’s lost its impact. I just want an anthology, not another ever escalating event. Let us breathe.

I don’t crave to see Dragonball Z/Super levels of threats, I don’t want all of reality constantly at risk, I want a snapshot into another setting with its own heroes. Like give me a neat concept for a alternate version of a hero, have them do street level stuff or at least stuff limited to their own universe, and I am peachy. Maybe do a riff on Pokémon/his dark materials and have the spider hero be powerless but have a familiar that is a radioactive spider? Or a spider medic in WWI trying to save everyone caught in the war, bandaging wounds with webbing and sneaking through no man’s land to get the heavily injured medical treatment? Maybe follow up on the Hobie Brown Spider-Man from that Secret Wars tie in? Let Valerie the Librarian be the star of a setting? Or just revisit Spider-Rex again, at least that’s fun. Give me standalone snapshots (of Spider-Man)

Sorry for ranting. But remember how the og Crisis on Two Earths was just “Barry helps Jay come out of retirement and take down three villains who are just robbing people?” That’s the stakes, just helping a retired hero suit up again and solve a crime wave in one city? Why can’t we get those kind of stakes in multiverse stuff? Street level and person stuff? Why must every multiverse anthology lead into a crisis crossover? And *grumble grumble grumble whine whine whine*

@thefingerfuckingfemalefury @nitpickrider @espanolbot2 @docgold13 @newx-menfan am I so out of touch? No, it’s the children who are wrong.

[mixed-theater-faisty-tings]

Lovin’ Kind

Chapter 9

Pairing: Riff x Latina! Summary: A month later things seem to be going relatively well but, how long will that last with two angry gangs walking around? A/N: Hello!!! Welcome back! Thank you again so much for all the love and support on Lovin’ Kind. It truly means the world to me! As always my DM’s are open for feedback and conversation 😊!!! ————————————————————————————

Riff Pov

About a month has past and the girls have started their night classes while Tony and I work, until it is time to meet the girls at 8 pm sharp to walk them home. Things have been relatively quite in the streets at least to my knowledge, the Jets come around Doc’s again and it’s all the usual things but, Diesel stays away knowing what’s good for him. They try to question my lack of presence but, I manage to jump around the subject.

I glance up at the clock and it was 7:30 which meant Tony would be around soon so we could go to the community college to get our girls. Things with Catalina have been amazing I spend nearly every night with her, and both of us working keeps us out of trouble which is new for me but worth it for her, after our last major fight I’ve decided I never want to be without her again.

That night Tony and Maria locked us in the room though I was quite grateful for them pushing us to talk. Seeing her though…my heart jumped at the sight of her with a hint of twisting in my stomach due to nerves.

Now with everything better we can move on and be happy, or maybe even gather enough money to run away together no Jets, or Sharks; just us. She’d never leave Valentina though.

“Riff ya ready?”, Tony interrupts my inner dialogue coming into the Pub. “Yeah just let me finishing wiping up.”, I say pulling the rag off my shoulder to clean. “See ya tomorrow!”, I tell my manager before walking out with my friend.

“Busy day at the pub?”, he asks me. “Sorta but money is money.”, I shrug. “It’s great seeing ya like this buddy boy.”, he says sounding like a father proud of his son.“What can I say Catalina is worth it..”, a smile creeps up my lips.

“I know the feeling. I was thinking since we can’t be out publicly aside from this what if we drop them off at Docs and then we go get some dinner and treat them? They deserve a decent meal no?”, he suggests. “Yeah I like that. Catalina has been going on about craving french fries.”, a chuckle escapes my mouth.

“Maria too I swear those two are in perfect sync for some reason.”, his laughter joins me. The rest of the walk filled with nothing but a soft wind humming through the streets. ———————————————————————————— Once we arrive at the college we wait a few minutes before the two emerge from the doors immersed in an intellectual conversation I have no idea about. Waiting till most of the other students have abandoned the property before meeting them.

“What are you two ladies talkin’ about?”, Tony asks. “Just stuff from class. How was work?”, Catalina inquires politely. “Busy but good. I missed you though.”, I admit;thank god for the dark of night tiger wise she’d a’seen the hint of pink on my cheeks.

We are always careful not to be too affectionate in public just because we don’t know who is watching and we ain’t tryna start nothing. Least not till we can find a way to make this not end in war.

“We was thinkin’ that you two go to Doc’s and we will pick up some food from the diner before they close and we can all have dinner together?”, I explain Tony’s idea. “Sure sounds good. I told Anita I was staying the night at Doc’s with Alta.”, Maria says.

“Alta? Who is that?”, I ask. “Oh umm..i’m Alta..”, Catalina raises her hand like a student being asked for attendance. “But your name is Catalina.”, my voice laced with confusion. “I think we should walk a bit faster Maria. We will meet ya’ll at Doc’s.”, Tony ushers his girl along while she gives my girl an apologetic look.

“So ya gonna tell me what’s goin’ on or am I gonna have to assume that you live a double life?”, I joke though my mind is racing. “No I don’t live a double life weirdo.”, she giggles.

“My full name is Catalina Altagracia De la Rosa. Since you guys always made the cat jokes as kids and even now I chose not to add fuel to the fire by telling you my whole name. But, my puertorriqueño friends and Tony as people who mean most to me call me Alta or Altagracia…”, she explains nervously.

“May I ask why you didn’t tell me? I mean like why tell me now?”, my eyes focusing on the ground picking up every last detail.

“I know we are in a better place and everything…I wanted to tell you. Honestly, i’m not sure why I didn’t I mean Tony didn’t even find out till after the dance and we’ve been best friends for ten years though I swore him to secrecy.” Her fingers fiddle with her books in hand.

“Oh okay..”, I say trying to pass the awkwardness. “You could call me Alta or Altagracia if you’d like. You are the love of my life after all.”, her voice is soft and sweet.

“Though I prefer to call you my girly girl I am honored for the privilege of calling you by your middle name.”, my voice sounding like a prince who just found his princess. “I love you.”, she giggles. “Ahora y siempre girly girl.”, I wink. ————————————————————————————

We all eventually make it to Doc’s, Tony and I leaving the girls to homework as we run to the diner. I think back to the last time I bought Cata- Altagracia food from here…it was the night of our first kiss, when I knew I loved her even if I couldn’t admit it to myself.

In the middle of waiting for our order the jingle of the bell signaling a new presence knocks me out of my thoughts. My attention now on the new human I realize it’s Baby John. “Hey i’ll be back grab my food if they call yeah?”, I tell Tony; he nods.

I meet the Baby Jet about halfway towards the door. He has always been the little brother that I never had and I wanted only to protect him from the shit the Jets caused sometimes. As the baby and most innocent he was easy to trust plus he had proved his loyalty time and time again. Though i’d never give him proper status in the gang out of protecting him.

“Hey Baby John”, I greet kindly. “Hiya Riff what ya been up to haven’t seen ya around the guys lately.”, he says. “Just busy working buddy boy.”, my answer is quick.

“The Jets are starting to lose faith in their astute leader. We are all just lost ain’t no plans to even go to the courts anymore but, I say that you are just making a great plan to get rid of the Sharks for good.”, he puts a lot of faith in me causing some guilt to churn in my stomach

“Y’know maybe the Sharks are the least of our worries at the moment.”, nerves clear in my words; my hand rubbing the back of my neck. “What are you tryna say?”, his face contorts with confusion. I quickly give in to his innocence feeling badly for lying to the kid when he didn’t deserve it.

“Okay look the truth is…”, I hesitate. “I can’t be a Jet anymore. I’ve been seeing Catalina for about a month now and we don’t want to cause anything but, we also can’t help our feelings. The Jets only want to hurt the Porto Ricans but, it’s pointless we are losing the turf anyway there is something better for all us out there. Don’t get me wrong the guys still mean something to me but, i’m startin’ ta see something more.” I explain.

“So you bailed on us for a girl?”, he is taken aback by my explanation. “I mean sure you can look at it that way but, you gotta know things are better without wreaking havoc on everyone for no reason. Catalina has shown me that…she’s worth it all. I love her Baby John”. my honesty quite out of character.

“Something outside of the Jets? Outside of possible arrest? Loving someone?”, he can’t fathom the idea for himself let alone me Mr. Born to die young and alone.

“Crazy I know but, you’re a smart kid you can find that thing you’re looking for as long as you distance yourself from the guys. Find that girl worth everything. I heard Tessie been eyein’ ya”, I say noticing Tony walking out with our food.

“I gotta go but, think about what I said.”, I pat him on the back and run off.

————————————————————————————

Catalina Pov

It feels like ages since the guys left…nothing but the grumbling of our stomachs fill the silence in the store until my Tia comes out to check on the shop.

“Hola niñas! Todo bien? (Everything okay?), she asks us. “Sí, solo esperando que Tony y Riff regresen con la cena. Se han ido un tiempo (Yes, just waiting for Tony and Riff to return with dinner. They've been gone a while.), I groan.

As if god heard my prayers the guys walk through the door locking it behind them. Valentina lets out a laugh while Maria and I are quick to shovel some fries into our mouths the boys staring at us mouths agape.

“Dos chicas hambrientas a las que no has alimentado en horas te dan. Novias infelices. También resulta en esta escena aqui mismo. Buena suerte y buenas noches. (Two hungry girls you haven't fed in hours gets you unhappy girlfriends. Also it results in this scene right here. Good luck and goodnight).”, My tia says waving off and going to her room with a small laugh.

“What did she say?”, Riff asks Tony who is still focused on how quickly we managed to feed ourselves. “How would I know. Altagracia only taught me a few phrases. I think I picked up girls out of all that.”, Tony is offended by Riff’s assumption he’d know.

Maria and I exchange a look before bursting into laughter. Our giggles fill the room as our boyfriends look at us like we have lost our minds. My stomach begins to ache from laughing so much I force myself to calm down. We compose ourselves before taking a seat acting like nothing happened.

“So ya gonna tell us what she said?”, Tony asks handing Maria her full meal. “She just said that this is what happens when you don’t feed us then wished you luck and said goodnight.”, Maria explains a giggle escaping her lips. “Dually noted.”, Riff jokes.

“We were starving okay we haven’t eaten since before leaving to class.”, I defend. “Next time we will bring a candy bar to hold you over.”, my boy interjects.

We all laugh at the past few minutes then engage with our meals. Talking about our days was a quick conversation before Tony and Maria disappear downstairs leaving Riff and I to throw out the trash.

“You staying tonight?”, I ask him. “Only if you want me to.”, he kisses my cheek.

After tossing the trash we go to my room careful not to wake my Tia. Following our usual routine Riff lays down to face the wall allowing me to change and while removing my clothes from my body a quick thought passes my mind.

“Mi amor?”, I grab his attention. “Yes girly girl?”, he asks;his back still facing me. “You’ve been….intimate before haven’t you?”, my voice laced with nerves. “Where is this coming from?”, his full of concern.

“Just curious. I’ve never done anything. Uh actually you were my first kiss…mi mama raised me to save myself for the man I love and married. Never to engage in anything really before wedlock.”, I explain. “May I turn around?”, his voice is now gentle. “Yes.”, I allow him.

His blue eyes glance over my body as I stand in a white undergarment slip dress nothing to be seen but, his expression is unreadable as he takes in the sight. His feet slowly carry him to me and the soft skin of his hands grazes my arm.

“I ain’t gonna lie to you I have been intimate with others, but none of them ever meant anything to me it was something to keep me busy. I never stayed the night with them or let them stay with me. I love you so much and I’d never pressure you into anything you weren’t ready for.”, his hands rub my arms in comfort, eyes locked on mine.

“I know you wouldn’t. The reason I brought it up is because it’s you Riff…the man I love and want to marry someday.”, he tenses a bit at my words.

“Someday mi amor not anytime soon. What matters to me in this moment is you and my love for you. You’re my ending and i’m one hundred percent okay with that.”. my word provide him comfort some tension now released.

“I’ve said this before but, I will say it again for the first time in my life I see a future and it’s always with you. With that, you don’t need to feel like you have to give yourself to me.”, his reassurance makes my heart jump.

“I don’t feel the need to. I want to. I want you.”, I let a hand drag slowly down his chest keeping eye contact. “I don’t want you to regret me.”, his hand stops mine holding it to his heart. “If you don’t want me then that’s okay you can tell me.”, my palm takes in his heartbeat.

“I do want you baby I just wanna make sure you are ready? I didn’t ask to get to be your first kiss but, I do get to make sure that I am who you want to be your first..”. his soft spoken words make my heart swell and I decide what comes next.

I answer his question by slamming my lips onto his engulfing him in a passionate kiss. He is taken aback at first but, then quickly reciprocates my motions. I let my hand finish its trial to the hem of his shirt removing it in one swift movement; his long, slender fingers trial down my sides to my thighs.

“Jump.”, he demands.

He pulls me up from my thighs as my feet leave the ground wrapping around his torso. His soft lips move from mine and begin nipping at the skin of my neck causing a soft sound to escape my lips as he gently places me on the bed before continuing his work.

My hands take the chance to explore his now exposed chest and his draw up my legs, I begin to feel a little apprehensive as his fingers approach my hips. He quickly senses my change in emotion and pulls away.

“Are you okay?”, his eyes glossed with concern. “I’m okay just go slow at my hips please.”, I plea. “I promise. I’ll go as slow as you need me to. I want you to remember your first time. You’re safe with me..may I show you that?”, he asks. I suck my teeth between my teeth and nod. “Out loud. I need verbal consent”, he is stern but still sweet. “Yes Riff”. I state.

Knowing my concerns he is cautious as he begins to slowly lift up the white cloth keeping his eyes locked on mine. I help him remove the fabric from my body leaving me completely exposed to him, my nerves heighten as he takes in my body.

His pupils dilated with lust and love tracing my figure and taking in every curve as if he would be told to draw me afterwards.

“Te vez hermosa.”, his words cause heat to rush to my cheeks. “Gracias mi amor”, I smile softly. “I’m so grateful for your love baby”, his fingers intertwine with mine. “Show me your love.”, a sensual tone seeps through my words.

A smirk creeps up his lips as my fingers leave his and slowly unbutton and unzip the denim barrier between us dragging them down his legs, he provides me some assistance by pulling his black briefs down joining my dress on the ground.

We take a moment just to be in this moment admiring the others emotional and physical nudity before joining our lips once more laying me back down so his body hovers over me.

Once my head hits the pillow behind me his lips begin traveling down my body leaving sweet, tender kisses upon my chest and abdomen causing me to shudder and my eyes flutter closed. A feeling of pleasure begins to course through my body.

His hands find my thighs giving them a gentle squeeze of appreciation while his lips show my hips some love replacing the bad memories and filling my senses with nothing but, him. When his kisses move to my thighs my breathing hitches in satisfaction.

My fingers lace themselves into his brown hair as soft, quiet moans fill the air. We quickly grab protection from his jeans on the ground before continuing.

Our moment together full of exploration, completely gone for each other, only passion and love guiding our motions. Taking in every part of each other never knowing just how much was left to learn.

“I love you so much Altagracia”. he says breathlessly. “I love you Riff.”. my voice just as short-winded.

Our bodies immerse into the others when we reach our respective highs pure euphoria filling us both. He falls next to me instantly pulling me close snaking an arm under my body as my head falls onto his chest.

“How are you so perfect?”, he asks me. “I am not.”, I giggle. “What we just shared was perfect baby and meant everything to me just like you.”, his voice low and soft.

“You gonna stay?”, I ask sweetly. “As long as you will have me girly girl.” He places a soft kiss on my head.

“One day when we are married you’ll never have to go anywhere.”, my voice was low and sleepy. “When we are married I ain’t ever leaving your side.”, I can hear the smile within his words.

“One day amor de mi vida”, I reassure him dozing off. “Ahora y siempre” is the last thing I hear before I am swept away to dreaming about our future. ————————————————————————————

Baby John Pov

After talking to Riff I begin to wonder if he is right..about a life without the Jets. They are the only family some of us have, I mean I love my Ma more than anything but, she is a single woman who works all the time although I know she loves me and she’s doing it to provide for us.

I stopped at the Dock’s to think about his words and my Ma when I hear footsteps behind me. ‘Not again’ I think. “Hiya Baby John”. Diesels voice shakes me. “Oh hey Deez.”, I say.

“What ya up to?”, he asks me. “Nothing much. I talked to Riff earlier.”. I answer honestly and slightly mindlessly. “Oh the king is alive?”, he jokes. “Very much. He said he just been workin’ a lot but he is also been with Catalina.”, I am only half-heartedly paying attention to the conversation.

“Been with Catalina? What ya mean by that?”, he questions leaning into the conversation. “Like he loves her man. Riff capable of love maybe that means we all could be even with a Puerto Rican.”, my voice complex.

He inquires more pulling answers from me one by one; my words like vomit just exiting my body leaving me daunted knowing Riff confided in me as a brother.

“Riff in love and dating a puerto rican…interesting.”, his voice trails off.

I think I fucked up.

————————————————————————————

@whisperofsong @theforgottenmcrmy @roythespeedy @mikefaistwasinnewsies @mikefaistmiamor @dellaspinstales @belenchies @inkandpen22 @riffheartsgraziella

[elapsed-spiral]

Hello I'm bored so have a very rough and ready Ed/Stede modern AU idea I had but don't currently have time to try and write (not saying I ever will because it’s just indulgent nonsense):

Stede and Ed live in Cambridge (UK edition).

Stede, being a madman, decides he needs a hobby and signs up for an online boxing masterclass (no really those exist).

He decides it's time to make his debut so he heads along to his local boxing club, which specialises in Town v Gown bouts, i.e. matches and training sessions between people who live in Cambridge and people who attend or teach at the University of Cambridge.

Stede thinks it's only fair to describe his skill level as intermediate, what with the certificate he received at the end of the online boxing masterclass.

He is not an intermediate boxer. He gets very punched in the face by Ed, who helps to patch him up afterwards and ribs him about it, saying he just wandered into the club because he craved some class based violence. Stede tells him he can only get away with saying such ridiculous, provocative things because he's attractive (he's only being that candid because of the not-thankfully-a-concussion). Ed says he can get away with such ridiculous, provocative things because he’s attractive and humble. 

Stede goes back the following week. The two dance (and, er, box) around each other for weeks, never quite sharing the details of their lives but connecting nonetheless thanks to their chemistry and how they riff off one another.

Eventually, Ed suggests meeting up for lunch/coffee/etc and Stede suggests a little cafe in town. Ed's never been there before but it’s charming. Stede is flattered, because it's his cafe, actually. Wait, what: Stede’s not a professor? No, no no, he had a midlife crisis, divorced then gave up his estate and now has zero pounds and zero pence but he does sell very tasty Chelsea buns. See? He’s a man of the people!

Well, shit. That’s a bit awkward because Ed kind of isn’t nowadays. He’s a notoriously ruthless barrister who sidelines as a Professor of Contract Law who rarely gives his students anything above a passing grade in examinations.

And that’s the idea. Is this still the pirate show? Barely. Do I enjoy turning it over and over in my head like a cool pebble I found on the beach? Undeniably.

[chorusfm]

Liner Notes (January 27th, 2024)

Another week, another newsletter. This week’s supporter Q&A post can be found here. If you’d like this newsletter delivered to your inbox each week (it’s free and available to everyone), you can sign up here. A Few Things * I’ve begun the process of building my project to move the newsletter from Substack into my own homegrown system. I have a good idea for how I want to do it, leveraging the same code I use to send the forum email notifications and building the publication portion directly into WordPress (goal: check the Newsletter category, publish, and it auto sends), I think I can build a cost-effective solution for sending a few thousand extra emails per month this way. The hard part is finding the time to sit down and write this and all the extra little things I need to build out myself (sign-up form, unsubscribe flow, an actual email template to use). But, the building blocks are being put in place. However, I think the next feature I want to work on is fixing the auto-embed situation in the forum first. Twitter (er, X?) has gone downhill in so many ways, and one of them is that their embed code for posts works extremely poorly now. They often leak memory, so if multiple are on a page, it can crash the browser session. This is most often seen on mobile devices. I want to create a way for there to be a preference for auto embeds so that you can turn off the embeds completely or just on mobile to improve the experience. I want the embeds to then be tappable to load, but we’ll see if I can get that done in the first version. Just getting an option to disable these is step one. It’s pretty annoying since, for years, everything worked just fine, but I simply can’t rely on Twitter to ever fix these issues, and this is my best option before I just pull Twitter completely from being able to embed itself in posts. In Case You Missed It * Review: Green Day – Saviors * Blink-182’s Untitled Record Gets Special Vinyl Pressing * Alkaline Trio – “Break” Video * Jimmy Eat World Play Halftime Show * Bayside Announce New Tour * Justin Timberlake Announces Tour * Avril Lavigne Announces Greatest Hits Tour * Aaron West and the Roaring Twenties Announce Tour * The Killers Announce Vegas Residency * Albums in Stores – Jan 26th, 2024 Music Thoughts * Alkaline Trio released their new album this week, and, in my opinion, it’s top tier Trio. Catchy, awesome riffs, and just top to bottom full of no misses. Easily my favorite since Crimson. * A few albums came out last week that I spent quite a bit of time with over the past week; this includes The Odorants’ Love Songs Never Die, which has a nice throwback punk feel to it. It could fit right in with the early 90s bands. Simple harmonies and fun as hell. The Speakeasy also released an album last week, and this one is a little more of your early Gaslight Anthem/Lawerence Arms kind of punk sound. Faster, but built to sing-a-long. The cover of “Johnny B Goode” is a highlight. * The Smile’s new album is pretty much exactly what I expected it to be. Good. Interesting. Drags for me a tad in the middle. And it really just makes me want new Radiohead. * Ghost Atlas’ Dust of the Human Shape should be right in the wheelhouse for anyone craving that Cove era Saosin sound. There are some great songs on here. * Sara Jarosz’s latest, Polaroid Lovers, is a jaunty walk between singer-songwriter and bending a tad into that country twang. * Charlotte Sands’ debut full length is finally available everywhere, and I’ve been singing its praises for a few months now. I expect it to see even more play when it starts to warm up a little. It’s absolutely worth checking out. * Laura Jane Grace’s new album comes out in early February. The first three songs released from it are a pretty good indication of what it sounds like. It’s good, raw, and the underlying power and talent of Laura’s songwriting is on full display. I still haven’t had any of the solo work hit me as hard as Transgender Dysphoria… https://chorus.fm/features/articles/liner-notes-january-27th-2024/

[abutchdisaster]

Things I'd do for a cute girl: part 19 I think

At this point, I have no clue how long this series is, but we're getting closer and closer to that time of year when a jolly old white fat man with a beard breaks into the homes of all those who believe in his existence, so have some winter themed yearning!

Eggnogity. I make my own riff off the 1800s eggnog, absolute killer, delicious, 10/10 would make it for my girl if I had a girlfriend. No dairy baby? No problem, my family got dairy problems too, and I'm not always a big dairy fan, so I came up with alternatives

Carving a Santa head for my mum, why don't I carve you something too? We can string it, hang it up on the tree. There's some paint and sealer in my room, if you wanna come over and paint it once it's finished

It's sweater season, so I'm busting them all out, and the thick lined flannels too. If you wanna nick a couple, go nuts cause ive got 10, just save me 2 for work because the ride there is freezing. No, no you cannot steal the last sweater, work darling, work, I will be cold

What's your favourite kind of cookie? I love baking, but I usually do a good bit more come the season of all things frosty, so gimme a couple requests and I'll work my magic to leave you with a cookie for every time you're craving it. Cranberry Orange shortbread dipped in chocolate? Cinnamon and almond sugar cookie? Maple and walnut? Say the word, dough is in the freezer

Tea, tea, and more tea. I'm coming to see you in the morning? I brought breakfast and some lovely tea, oh thank you for the kiss. Oh you've been working hard, rest this evening, I'll put on the kettle for us, make something to eat before I go to work, too

For the people I love, who love me, who are glue and cardstock in the messy pages that make up the book of my life, I will absolutely try to make presents memorable or meaningful, meaning I will get you merch for the thing you love, merch you didn't even know about! I will get you stocking stuffers for small, inexpensive things I know you love and want or need, but never buy them for yourself, like the hard to find candies from another country, or the pair of socks you've been putting off going to the shops for. I will put a sweet and a drink in your gifts, so at the end of the day, we can sit down and enjoy the evening together

Singing the most fucked up versions of christmas songs together (but you can sing the proper songs with my mum, she'd love that)

[rollingdumpsterfire]

Found another French press and I’m slowly getting some semblance of normal mornings back, which I’ve missed. I set Howl’s Moving Castle down on the counter, pages-down, so while I wait for the water to boil, and while I let the coffee steep, I can get another chapter in. Leaving the book on the counter like that makes me pick it up when I’m waiting for things to boil. Lots of instant ramen and linguine with scratch-made red sauce to power through lately.

“What a very elegant way of making coffee!” I remember a Radiologist telling me when I explained what a French press was. The kettle begins to whine, stopping me mid-sentence in the book about Sofie’s boldness as an old woman. I pour the kettled water over the grounds in the press and shuffle around for a spoon.

“Damn. I need to stop wasting spoons like this”, as I root around for the last spoon, quickly stir in my coffee, and rinse it off to set it aside for my cereal. “Huh, four minutes, that’s shorter than I originally thought”, the instructions say. I’d usually let the coffee sit for ten. “Well, it’s not like I won’t taste the difference” I chuckle to myself, sparking up a reason why I even crave mornings like these in the first place. Immediate mental damage shaken off.

A silence fills the apartment.

I still can’t tell if I like these kinds of silences or not. The first time it happened was when I had gotten on the phone with many friends that day offering their support I always shrink away from.

"Come over, we'll cry and watch movies."

"Drive up here and stay the night, we'll play board games!"

"This is last minute, but come to my bachelor party at my house!"

After the last friend hanging on the phone said “I just got into work, call you tomorrow?” and hung up, it was there for the first time. I stared down a half-empty apartment. You know the silence, when you’re alone and have been crying over something permanent but your body has just decided it’s over doing that mechanism. You’ve taken that last hiccupped breath, wiped your last tear, and blown your nose for the last time. That silence. What the fuck IS that silence? It’s happened more than once, too.

For a person who remembers hating silences off all kind, trying to fill a room with a record, or just powering through the stigma of making full-blown conversations with themselves. I learned to hate that inner voice. He was so jaded, so negative, so matter-of-fact. He was as sharp as a tack though. He would shield me from disappointment because worse-case scenario; I always knew it would end this way. Best case? I'm pleasantly surprised. It was never a silent moment with you, though. Anything to shut him up.

“No way we have the same exact music tastes!”

“Why do they call him Sterling and not just Archer?”

“If you were a bee what bee would you be?”

I was slingshot back to the reality of my current situation.

Chapter Six: In Where Howl Expresses His Feelings With Green Slime. Setting the book back pages-down, (listen, you'll be FINE it wont LIVE like that, besides-- you don't even want to know what happened to my copy of Catch-22), I root around for a mug, as if I'm not already going for my black and white "Eat the Rich" mug you got me two birthdays ago that I haven't washed since. I take my coffee black, and it's MY mug don't you dare fuckin' judge me! (by the way:

Yes that new Two Door Cinema club record is great, Sam crushes those guitar riffs.

It's a play on 007 where other characters call him Bond and not James.

A busy buzzy bee.)

My whirlwind of a roommate, went off to work after a night of debate of whether or not we need to go to a hospital. It's not that I didn't believe them of their sharp rib pain, it's just not enough to quantify an emergency and we would be stuck in the ER for hours only to be potentially told "we don't know what's wrong, here's some pain killers you can't afford, and off you go!" I don't even know who to be angriest at in this scenario, but I'll always kick myself first. Damn me and not being at the Doctor level yet. Damn me and being smart enough to know that I'm not smart enough to give a definitive answer on what ails them. FUCK me for being unwilling to feel their pain because if I give more empathy it'll complicate their feelings towards me, since admitting they had a crush on me the day before. I really don't need that on my plate right now.

There it is again. That damned silence.

Recovering again from those mental blows to myself, I reflexively go to the fridge to aim for that hazelnut creamer that you liked. Laughing to myself "having a coffee addiction but can't take it black." I touch my temple now from that psychic pain.

"Why do you snowball like this?" I say to myself soon after, switching gears to reach for my own milk for cereal, only to ultimately decide against it and close the door. I take the green book, set my mug on the coffee table and lay myself down on the couch with my left leg hanging over the edge. I look over the top of the book to the same perspective where you'd work and I'd read in absolute silence.

I learned to be welcoming of my own thoughts through the quiet times. I'm still the extrovert and needs to fill the air with noise. I used to make noise to shut up that angrier, self-loathing, inner bastard. This chapter of life though, having nothing going on, and no one to talk to made moments OF talking to friends all the sweeter. You showed me that.

I was emotionally damaged when we met so I remember often, looking up and choking on my own words for fear of letting you know more about me. I just got used to not saying anything when we hung out. I was busy being in my own head though.

I would make myself uncomfortable because I felt guilty that I was just in my head and not actually present with you. I KNOW you were okay with that, more than okay, you loved me more for it-- I just wasn't. The more and more these thoughts cycled in my head the more resentment I grew. At myself. It festered horridly. You ran around cleaning or cooking or working on your art, and I would check in "Need me to do something?" I didn't ask because I genuinely wanted to help I asked because I felt the guilt of being just inside my own head and paying you no mind. Secretly kind of liking it.

I didn't lie about loving you--it just made anything that you did that bothered me all the worse. All relationships have speed bumps, my spiraling made them mountains. Is this how you felt, in those pictures where you're deep in thought and you didn't say anything until the idea of me got away from you and what reality me would actually say? Yes, of course I don't have to move in with you! I know it's too early, but opportunities like this are weird like that in relationships, why have you been holding that in this whole time? You know you can talk to be about anything when it happens? You know with me there's always a compromise, right? You know it's not healthy to be hung up on an ex, right? Do I actually love you, or is it that "idea-of love" trope? Did I actually give in to "the best way to get over somebody is to get under somebody" subconsciously? Did I give in to that initial terrible thought when we started dating that you were just a rebound? Sorry I'm freaking out about moving in with you, but it's too soon, yeah? Uh oh, I've had a dream about this, where we are dating but I'm not happy being with you, it's not coming true, is it?! Am I admitting I actually don't see a future with you? Am I subconsciously looking for the next person and refuse to give up what I have and let that jerk voice win? Did I just find someone else? Did I lose a different opportunity because I couldn't get it together fast enough? Again? Why am I like this? Would you have actually done those awful things if my situation was different? You know if you stopped trying to appease everybody you wouldn't be in this mess right? Do you like the drama secretly? Did you invite that chaos because you're bored? You're just a womanizer just like every other guy, aren't you? You try to go against that in every way but you're no different when push comes to shove, right? What could have done different with--?

"Just give me a second to breathe!"

I catch up to my runaway daydream.

That silence returns.

"Shit." I stare at my empty cup of coffee, which usually meant I would have to start the French Press Process all over again, but I always fill the press with water so there's two cups. Whether or not it's a leftover habit is unimportant, anyway. I shuffle over to the kitchen and fill my mug again. I turn my back, mug in hand and lean on the counter. The cold coffee touching my lips.

"Yeah, I've missed mornings like these."

[cagesings]

 @angelsweeps  /  riff  sent:  “i  love  you.”

 there  has  not  been  much  love  in  her  life.  a  guardian,  who  presented  himself  as  a  kind  hearted,  loving  father  turned  cold  once  out  of  the  eye  of  the  public,  never  said  he  loved  her  until  he  intended  to  use  her.  biological  parents,  which  she  only  knows  stories  about,  have  been  deemed  unable  to  love;  even  their  only  child.  love  is  a  craving  every  child  must  look  for  in  any  capacity,  yet  not  every  child  is  granted  such  a  scared  thing,  although  they  all  deserve  it.

 despite  having  been  married  for  over  a  year,  despite  those  three  words  exchanged  every  so  often,  it  still  shocks  her  to  the  core  to  hear  them.  i  love  you.  simple  and  beautiful  and  wonderful.  why  he  should  love  her,  johanna  will  never  know.  a  girl  with  as  strange ��quirks  as  hers  (  insisting  that  he  doesn't  touch  her  knees,  going  on  walks  around  their  neighborhood  far  past  midnight  ).  who  ruined  the  afterglow  of  their  wedding  night  with  her  overthinking  and  anxious  movements.  a  girl  ruined  by  another.  yet  he  loves  her.  

 as  johanna  pulls  herself  from  the  embrace,  she  looks  up  at  him.  a  question  that's  been  on  her  lips  for  years,  but  has  gone  silent  for  even  longer,  finally  escaping,  

 ❝  why?  ❞

[thedysphoriadiaries]

Entry 17B - 3 March 2023, 3:20pm

Well... I went out to eat again.

As if I ever learnt from my own mistakes.

I hate how my brain just focuses on the women around me. I hate it. I don't want to be a predator. It's disgusting how I keep glancing at school-going girls, some of which haven't even entered their teenage years. I deserve the title of a pedophile for doing this.

Honestly, I... kind of give up. If this is what I have to live with, so be it.

I haven't had a shower in a week, or at least a couple of days. I cannot bear to see myself. I can't even look in the mirror anymore. I do not know why I am alive.

...

I asked my brother to imagine a version of him who wanted to be a girl. He couldn't do it, the same way I couldn't imagine a version of me who was comfortable being a guy.

What in the fuck is wrong with me?

The other people around me constantly deadname me, but that's on me, since I didn't give them my preferred name, and to be honest, I no longer care that much about it.

I'm not comfortable being referred to as a guy, but I know that I'll never be a girl. My frame (my physical frame, and my frame of mind) literally prevents it from coming to pass. I hate myself for it.

I will not take that anger out on others. I will... support them, maybe not vocally, but from the sidelines. Give them acceptance, where I never found any in myself. I will keep screaming into the void; the void serves the same purpose that a beam dump does for a laser - it vents excess things out safely. If it wasn't for this and all the sleeping pills I've been taking, I'd be throwing things around.

Speaking of that, I wonder how Avery (am I misremembering his name?) is doing? He used to rant quite a ton back when I was a part of a trans group. No, I'm NOT going back. I just wonder how he's doing. Wouldn't be surprised if he told me to fuck myself. Yeah sure, let me just rip that dead thing out from between my legs and fuck my ass with it.

...

Even now, the thoughts of how masculine I am are beginning to seep into the activities that I do for fun. Yes, I'm able to play riffs from Polyphia, but what good is it if I begin to think about how masculine my arms are as they move about while I play the guitar?

Why am I like this? Why am I so hopelessly attracted to the thought of going through life as a female?

Would things be better if I was gone?

If I was an only child, I would have gone a long time ago. Since I have a brother, I'd be traumatizing him, and I could make him suicidal, which is NOT something I want to do.

Funny how I love others but beat myself up over and over again every single day.

Funny how I'm self-aware of this, but refuse to seek help. Maybe the only help I'll seek is a bullet to my head. I've destroyed far too many things to be left alive. And no, you're not going to report this to the authorities. It's not like you know my legal name.

...

I can't help but keep thinking of a letter a redditor sent to her spouse. Being called my chosen name only brings up how different who I want to be, and who I am, are, and I hate that. I don't feel like I deserve that name. Yet, I so desperately crave to be called a good girl.

No, this is NOT an invitation for you to call me that.

If you do decide to call me that, go fuck yourself. Spare me the pain of knowing that I'll never be what I want to be. I'm just some lunatic with a couple of loose brain screws.

I'm thinking of hiding behind the label of aro-ace. Even if I could feel anything, I'm too damaged to feel proper sexual attraction, much less romantic attraction. What I feel towards women is NOT romantic attraction. If these feelings persist, eventually, I WILL succumb to the same envy that being with my ex-partner brought upon me. My partner does not deserve that fate. They do not deserve a disgusting pile of sludge envying them.

I cannot keep living like this, but it is the only life I know.

I don't know why this life has to be so long. I feel like I died years ago.

... I wonder why I keep writing this. Is it for attention?

It doesn't matter. I can only hope I make it through conscription, so that more parts of me can die for others' comfort. And after that, once those important to me have gone, go by myself.

As some sick pedophile with loose brain screws, I've done far too much damage to ever redeem myself.

...

Ok, rant time's over. Go away. Shoo.

And no. No hugs.

Leave me alone. I'll go sleep, or play some Polyphia riffs.

[tojiaesth]

boyfriend

gojo satoru x f!reader

summary: you and gojo had some sort of unspoken agreement in which you refused to adhere to labels and instead chose to have fun. except neither of you would ever admit the hold you had on each other.

warning: heavy smut, 18 +, minors dni, fingering, oral (fem receiving), rough handling of reader, marking, dom!gojo, sub!reader, choking/breath play, overstim, raw sex, tummy bulge, ?slight breeding kink, jealousy and possessiveness, mentions of drugs and alcohol.

tags: college au, fratboy!gojo, friends with benefits, unlabelled relationships, bisexual!gojo, bisexual!reader, fluff at the end <3

A/N: inspired by ariana herself <3 so i recommend at least listening to the song before you read, if you’re like me and can’t read and listen :p

It was loud. That was the first thing you picked up on before you even entered the sweaty house. Your friends begged you to come, as if there weren’t parties every week and missing one would change the world. You struggled to find a parking space, choosing to walk the rest of the way. The deafening thump of bass could be heard a few blocks down and you wondered how there was never any noise complaints.

Satoru probably threw money at them.

You smiled, it was such a him thing to do. The cold air nipped at your dress, having left your coat in your car. You had chosen to wear an emerald green satin body con dress that stopped mid thigh. It accompanied a criss cross pattern that exposed your back. You first saw it online and had fallen in love, it partly being the reason why you had said yes. You wanted him to see you in the dress, already craving the dark look in his eyes when he was turned on.

Gojo Satoru, college senior, with his charismatic personality had a very big presence at the college. Almost never alone and surrounded by a group of admirers, both men and women fell at his feet. If someone had told you back in your first year that you’d be sleeping with this man on the regular you’d think they were crazy. He honestly, despite being very handsome, was not your kind of man. Too pretty, very cocky and had serious commitment issues, bedding half the campus. But it had started at the beginning of the year, your friendship groups overlapping as you had grown close with Suguru Getou and Shoko Ieiri having been studying the same subject. You found yourself around him a lot, eventually going out with just each other and things quickly progressed.

Soon enough he was between your thighs, lapping at your cunt with fervour and sucking gently on your clit, two slender fingers hitting that spot. He did that a lot, seeming to relish in the way you fell apart on his tongue, your slippery walls pulsating as you softly said his name like a prayer. He’d nonchalantly get up, sometimes not even asking for anything in return and it surprised you. You pegged him as more of a receiver than a giver but it suited you fine.

You became pretty popular on campus as you hung out with them, attending parties and making life long friendships. You usually weren’t someone who slept around, but that quickly changed. So did your care for a steady relationship. You were 21, life was short, you had a great body and a pretty face, opting to have fun.

You found yourself caught in Gojo’s trap, legs wound around his waist on a weekly basis, his hard cock driving into you with such force you thought you’d break. Your legs clenched just thinking about it, a thin layer of slickness coating your panties.

Your thoughts were brought back to reality when you entered the frat house, NalinA by Block B was being blasted at full volume through the house and you already felt a course of excitement run through your veins. You couldn’t wait to let loose and find your friends. The house, just short of a mansion, had been decorated with l.e.d lights, a soft red and blue glow painting your skin. There was alcohol everywhere, sweaty bodies and the strong smell of weed.

“Y/N! Over here.” You looked over to see the majority of your friends on a sofa, catching sight of Satoru with a girl on his lap. His hand was caressing her ass, as she pouted saying something to him. She was pretty, and you tried your best not to care. Their faces were sweaty, with cups in their hands, indicating they had stopped dancing. You walked in their direction, plopping yourself next to the person behind the voice.

“Hey Mei-Mei. You look hot.” You said casually and she automatically pulled you to sit on her knee. You smiled and took her cup, whatever bitter liquid sliding down your throat. You and Mei were another short lived fling, sleeping together a handful of times and besides Satoru, no one else could compare to that sinful mouth of hers. A queen at teasing, she brought her hand to your waist and lightly began tracing shapes with her fingers.

“You look hot, that dress is making me want to do things to you.”

You chuckled as you stared at each other, tensions running high as the song changed to one you were familiar with. You wanted to dance.

“God, please make out.”

You ignored the annoying comment from Sukuna who was sat diagonally from you, blatantly checking you out. You told him to shut up, your mouth twitching as he looked completely unfazed. Looking away, you ran your fingers through Mei’s soft hair,

“Come, let’s dance.” You whispered, breath hot on her ear as she shivered. You loved how easily you could fluster Mei, knowing the more you worked her up the more she’d punish you for it later.

You both got up and your arms were grabbed by Shoko,

“We’re coming, we’d rather not watch Sukuna hunt for a girl like an animal or Gojo practically fuck in front of us.” She said, shuddering and dragging a very amused Getou. Your eyes flickered to Satoru, finding that he was already watching you. The girl was now straddling him and the buttons on his shirt looked undone, his hands rubbing circles on her thighs. He refused to break eye contact with you, kissing her neck as she moaned, smirking as you looked away, grasping Mei’s hand.

You don’t know what he was trying to do, but it pissed you off. It annoyed you more that he’d groan in your ear some nights, grabbing your neck and claiming you were his and his only. Not wanting you to touch or look at anyone else. The next morning? Business as usual as he was all over some girl. You deducted that him saying those things to you were just in the heat of the moment, recalling how your clit would throb as he would rub slow circles, staking his claim. You liked how possessive he could get, the rough sex, and how occasionally he’d surprise you with a gift. All without having to actually be in a relationship.

You didn’t care about labels and neither did he. So why? Why did his eyes say, he wanted you to get jealous? You sighed, these mind games and mixed signals were your least favourite part of Satoru.

The beginning of an all too familiar riff began to thump through the walls and you all squealed in delight. As ‘Do I Wanna Know’ began you swayed your hips and lip synced, literally letting your hair down as Mei came up behind you. Shoko began recording you without your knowledge, watching as your head fell onto Mei’s shoulder, her hands ghosting around the space between your breasts, purposefully ignoring how your nipples hardened as she whispered something lewd into your ear.

“She’s gonna kill you if you post that.” Suguru watched as Shoko posted the video to her story, her eyes shining with amusement as almost instantly people replied asking who you were.

Satoru on the other hand could not take his eyes off of you. He studied you as you wrapped your arms around Mei and he was exasperated. She was addictive, he thought, those pouty and full lips had a hold on him, his dick twitched thinking about them wrapped around him. Her body was something else, those breasts of hers heaving against her dress. Shit. He almost got hard. The girl currently giving him a hickey was just not doing it for him. In fact no girl or guy was, he had tried countless times only his encounters with Y/N fulfilling his desires. In spite of that, he would not tell her this, not wanting to ruin the game of cat and mouse they had going.

“Satoru, let’s go somewhere.” The girl whined, hips grinding against his crotch. He suddenly got up and pushed her off of him,

“Nah, not in the mood. I’m sure Sukuna would be interested. He has a habit of going after my sloppy seconds.” Gojo snapped, sick of the way he was gazing at you, eyes darkened with lust.

He ignored the girls cuss words directed at him as she stormed off and Sukuna snickered, looking up from his phone.

“She’s fuckable but I have my eye on something else tonight.” He thrust his phone in Satoru’s face, only to be met with Shoko’s story, full of Y/N dancing suggestively.

He willed himself not to show anger and hummed,

“Like you could pull her.” His voice dripping with fake amusement as Sukuna tensed in irritation.

Satoru walked in the direction of his friends, still dancing crazily and singing very out of tune to ‘Kiss me more’, you were now dancing with Suguru and laughing loudly as he tried to attempt some sort of dance move so terribly, Satoru could not decipher what it was supposed to be. Your lips were glossy, eyes twinkling as he picked you up and twirled you around, ribs hurting from laughing so much. You never laughed that much with him.

Satoru pursed his lips, he was just so irritated. Suguru put you down when the song finished and you fixed his hair that your arm had messed up,

“Your hairs gone so long now, I love it.” You said cheerily, fingers twirling on a stray strand as Suguru bent down slightly so he could hear you over the music.

“It suits you.” You stated softly, unable to look away from his intuitive eyes. The lights were casting a glow across his face, bringing his jaw to attention as you traced it slowly. He was a different kind of handsome you thought, more your type than Satoru was and you thought about how his eyes were a warm brown, compared to Satoru’s cerulean ones. You scolded yourself internally for still finding ways to think about Satoru, you just couldn’t shake him.

Suguru smirked and focused on the feeling of your hands, now running through his hair and eventually resting on the back of his neck. You smelt so good, he thought, he wanted to kiss you. He leaned down and you realised his intentions, your hands paused on his biceps that were coated in tattoos. As you closed your eyes, thoughts wild and slightly clouded by the shots you did with Shoko, you braced yourself to kiss the god-like man that was Getou Suguru, pulse racing.

“Y/N!” Your head automatically snapped at your name being called, sheepishly looking at Suguru whose eyes were now filled with something you couldn’t quite figure out. Satoru was in front of you both, promptly grabbing your hand and dragging you away. Eyes bewildered you looked back at Suguru who looked entertained at the whole situation. You found yourself at the focus of everyone’s stares, all curious as to why Gojo had a dark look in his eyes.

“Satoru, what the fuck? Let go-“ His large hands were gripping your smaller ones hard, uncomfortably squishing your fingers together. He said nothing, back to you as he hauled you up the stairs and into his room. His door slammed as you stumbled into the dimly lit room, turning around in utter confusion at Gojo’s behaviour.

“Fuck, what is your problem?” You were enraged at how he just did what he pleased with you and how you just let him. You massaged your wrist, now slightly red at Satoru’s force.

“Why the fuck would you try and kiss him? Seriously, Suguru? You’re such a fucking whore.” Gojo clenched his jaw, finding himself even angrier at the thought of you underneath Suguru, moaning, sweat dripping off your backs.

You were baffled. A whore?

“Firstly, you’re literally the definition of a whore and secondly, why the fuck do you care?!” You stepped closer to him, cheeks flushed in anger at Satoru’s audacity,

“You have no fucking right to care about who I fuck. Got it? You’re not my boyfriend.”

Satoru moved closer to you, your nose in line with his chest as the man’s eyes changed suddenly. For once, he had no comeback or witty remark, you were right but he’d had enough. Just the thought of his best friend between your legs snapped him into action and he had to come to terms with his feelings. His fingers lifted your chin, your eyes willing itself not to melt at his touch, goosebumps already littering your arm. He silently moved to your lips, thumb pressing against your mouth, encouraging you to open.

You were so unbelievably confused, this man blew hot and cold. One minute so angry he couldn’t speak and then next initiating a kiss.

“Satoru-“

His lips were against yours before you had time to think, furiously pressing against them and swiping his tongue across. You relaxed into his touch and opened your mouth. His tongue found yours in an instant and lightly sucked it, your breathless moans pleasuring his senses as his hands pulled your body closer to him. He explored your body, cupping your ass while you simultaneously wrapped your arms around his neck, fingers drowning in his soft white locks. Eventually he pulled away, cupping your face gently like you were a porcelain doll,

“I don’t want you to see anyone else or kiss them like that. I’m not playing any more games. You’re mine.” He stated firmly, blue eyes framed by his ash coloured lashes, gazing into your soul.

You couldn’t bring yourself to tease him. Gojo...was serious. All those extra knowing glances you’d give each other, the fiery arguments, the passionate sex, the pang of jealousy at his lips on another girls neck and the way his eyes would linger a little too long when you spoke to a guy, you realised the both of you were stupid. Too busy trying to convince yourselves you didn’t care you both buried your thoughts away, afraid to articulate them in case you were rejected.

You found yourself repeating after him, his eyes almost hypnotising you as you stuttered,

“I-i’m yours.”

Satoru lightly kissed you on the lips and motioned you to jump up, supporting your legs as you wrapped them securely around his waist. He gingerly placed you on his bed, hovering over you as his hands slowly rid up your leg, ghosting around your inner thigh and you suppressed a moan. His touch was magnetic, something as simple as stroking your thigh with Satoru becomes so much more, a tingly sensation jolting through you when his hands brushed between your clothed folds. Meanwhile he began kissing his way down, starting with your neck and sucking furiously at the spot above your collarbone. You mewled against him as he licked the now marked spot, your hips desperately finding his to grind against.

“Patience, baby. I’m taking my time with you.”

You whined at his remark, you just needed him inside you, now.

“Such a whiny brat.” His voice slipped through your ears like silk as he slowly slipped the straps of your dress down your shoulders, the new stimuli adding to the experience. You were never more glad to have not worn a bra. He focused on your exposed breasts, nipples hard and swollen and he groaned at the sight.

A warm sensation reached your nipples and you cried out in pleasure, looking down at Satoru lapping up your soft mounds. His seductive gaze ripped through you as he began to trace slow circles with his tongue. His fingers kept your other breast occupied, rolling around your left nipple with his fingers, constantly switching sides and worshipping them.

His attention switched to your lower stomach, kissing your skin with affection as you anticipated his lips between your thighs. You could feel the damp spot slowly spreading on your panties and the swell of your clit, begging to be touched.

“Fuck, Satoru you tease.” You breathed out in gaspy moans, he had completely removed your dress by now and was blowing warm breaths against your knickers. Satoru brought a single digit to rub against the wet spot, moaning as he felt the tent in his pants. He loved teasing you but it required self control, wanting nothing more than to release his large cock from its restraints and into your warm hole, throbbing at the thought.

He finally pulled your panties to the side at your delight and your whimpers filled the room as his fingers brushed against your soaked clit. He played around with your pussy, stroking up and down and noting the creamy juices that were flowing out your hole. The sight of his fingers coated in your juices and he almost came right there. The lewd squelching of your cunt was slightly covered up by your cries of pleasure as he entered two slender fingers inside you, stimulating your sensitive walls. He reached down and took your clit into his mouth, humming at the taste.

“F-fuck, right there Toru” You moaned, attempting to wriggle but Satoru quickly used his arms to clamp your thighs into place, his sensual mouth causing white dots to appear in your vision. Your stomach fluttered at the slow, familiar build up of your climax, not even embarrassed that he had only been eating you out for five minutes. You were just so sensitive today and paired with Satoru laying claim to you, your body was responding to each and every one of his touches.

“Ah, k-keep going baby, fuck. You’re so good at it.” The praises fell from your lips as the deep pleasure in your stomach changed, indicating you were near.

Satoru was persistent, his insatiable need to feel your cunt quiver against his tongue caused him to add one more digit, scissoring his fingers against your gummy walls. He could feel you frantically clenching, chuckling at his inability to move as fast as his fingers were in a death trap. He kept his eyes on you, watching as your hand came up to your mouth to stifle your sobs, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“I’m close.” You whispered and you made a mistake of looking down at Satoru, his tongue was pressing down against your sensitive nub, saliva dripping onto his bed. His fingers went even faster, determined to make you cum.

“Shit, shit, shit. I’m gonna-”

“Cum for me princess.”

That was all you needed. You legs squeezed frantically against his head, the euphoric sensations causing your back to refuse to rest against the bed. Satoru paid no mind to your repetitive whimpers as you began to come down from your high, his lips still stubbornly attached to your clit. It was too much, the previously pleasurable feel was now borderline painful, his sticky fingers removing themselves from your cunt.

You legs jolted occasionally each time he purposely grazed the bundle of nerves, continuing his efforts by using his tongue to tease around the now sensitive area, chuckling when your hips wriggled.

“Delicious.” His velvety tongue swiped his lips and he brought his fingers into your mouth. The tangy but familiar taste of your undoings were accompanied by his soft fingers, swirling around your tongue until your saliva created a mess.

“Shit, you’re so hot.” He groaned, the twitching of his cock was unrelenting. You pressed your legs together, the achy feeling of need returning. Reaching to kiss him, your hands started to undo his belt buckle,

“I want you.” You whispered, unable to look away from his eyes.

His lecherous eyes stared back at you, his fingers curling around your back as he brought you closer, now hovering above you.

“I want you too.”

In one swift movement, his cock was freed and he entered you, the new feeling causing you to cry out as he slowly bottomed out.

“Shit, you’re clenching like crazy baby.”

You couldn’t even reply, his thick shaft splitting you open, Satoru stared down at how you sucked him in, a creamy ring of your juices at the base of his cock. You felt him harden even more, he hadn’t wasted any time by helping you adjust. He started a rough pace, watching your perky tits bounce as he reached down and placed a nipple into his mouth. You were truly addicting, he thought, your whimpers becoming louder with the sticky sound of your cunt. Your pussy seemed to fit him like a glove, Satoru’s eyes wandered towards your soft tummy, at the faint bulge of his devouring and his eyes widened, using a hand to press against it and his ears welcomed your high pitched gasps.

“What’s the matter baby girl?” He cooed, chuckling at your stifled sobs and flushed cheeks.

“‘is too much...” You managed, barely able to communicate as he fucked you dumb.

You were so sexy, he thought.

You scooted away, his rough movements almost resulting in your head banging against the headboard but without missing a beat Satoru pulled you back, cock sinking into you with a new sensation.

“That’s not how this works, sweetheart. You’re gonna lie there and take it.”

His hands ghosted at your waist, using the soft tissue as a grip as he forcefully used your body, eyes unable to look away at how you took his thick, veiny member. Your pussy twitched as he licked a stripe at the side of your neck,

“Oh...you like that?” He muttered, sucking on your weak spot, he groaned when you tightened against him, knowing the tip of his cock was red and angry, your walls were too much.

You blink, eyes glossy and lips swollen from his kisses, Satoru’s marks were littered across your body, evidence of his ravishing as he continued his strong pace, cock driving into you with hunger. Your moans changed pitch,

“t’s...too much...can’t...too big.” You babbled, a new, insurmountable pleasure was ripping into your stomach.

“It’s too big?,”

Satoru wrapped his slender fingers around your neck, pressing down lightly as he smirked,

“I know.”

Your breath was slowly snatched from you as he gripped your neck harder, it somehow heightening the feeling of him around your cunt. His groans were turning you on, you always loved how vocal Satoru was.

Satoru paid attention to you, removing his hands and watching as you gasped for breaths. He grinned at how crazy your pussy went whenever he did that, he had really met his match. His cock twitched, indicating his nearing climax and you creamed shamelessly around him when his thumb lightly brushed your rosy clit. Your legs had gone to jelly at this point, but you securely clamped them around Satoru’s waist, bringing him even closer as your eyes closed in pleasurable agony.

“You gonna be a good girl and cum on my cock?” The way you cried and babbled nonsense, mouth messy with saliva as you drooled around his fingers, Satoru pressed at the pad of your tongue, cerulean eyes gleaming at where you connected. As he sinked into you again and again, the intemperate need to feel you squirt around him, he took your soft mounds into his mouth once more and before he knew it, you let out a long, drawn out moan as you found your release.

The white hot pleasure against your stomach snapped and as you orgasmed for the second time, a new warm sensation splashed against Satoru’s cock. Your juices dripped onto the bed, your pussy quivering and legs shaking as you rode it out.

“Fuck.” His azure eyes twinkled with amazement and you didn’t think he could possibly get any harder, as his member remained snug against your cunt.

Satisfied at your mess and how your slimy walls squeezed so torturously against him, Satoru’s own release was not far behind. With one last sound of pleasure, another warm feeling filled your pussy, spurts of the familiar white liquid spilling out of you as he slowed down his thrusts, emptying his balls into you with his repeated moans.

He pulled out, watching the results of his orgasm dribble onto his sheets. Using his fingers, he pushed the remaining liquid deep into you as a low moan escaped your lips. He brought his coated fingers to your mouth, and you licked them clean, humming against him.

As he hovered over you, his captivating eyes caught in the moonlight peaking through the curtains, illuminating his spacious room. He was so beautiful, you thought, mind now unclouded as your high disappeared. Instead, a lighter but warm feeling fluttered through you as Satoru bent down to give you butterfly kisses across your stomach.

“You’re gorgeous.” He whispered and he felt you smile against the top of his head, white tendrils tickling your nose as he placed himself on your tummy, careful not to crush you.

A comfortable silence lingered in the air, for the first time neither of you needed to fill it in with pointless words. You stroked his hair, content that he was still here and showing you affection even after sex, a concept new to the both of you.

After some time, with the both of you deep in thought about each other, Satoru’s head lifted and he made eye contact with you.

“I meant what I said earlier. I know this is new to the both of us so we can take it slow and I’ll probably fuck things up a few times but...I really do care about you, Y/N.”

Your eyes softened, as he glanced nervously at you. You had never seen him so vulnerable before and somehow it made you like him even more.

You extended your arm, your fingers tapping against his cheek,

“I care about you a lot too, Satoru. More than I’d like to admit.” You looked away, confused at how quickly the atmosphere changed from the desperate grappling of hands against skin to soft eyes and shy kisses. You were shy around him. You really did care about him but you also weren’t the best at articulating your thoughts, Satoru was always one upping you with his smooth talking.

His smile softened before his eyes changed, amusement dancing across his face.

“Well why wouldn’t you like me? I’m amazing.”

You rolled your eyes and pushed him away, his hands grabbing you and placing warm kisses around your neck. You melted into his touch, only now realising he hadn’t even properly undressed, unlike you who was completely bare.

He paused as you wriggled uncomfortably in the messy and slightly damp sheets, the both of you a tangle of limbs.

“Is this a bad time to ask if you’re on the pill?”

You stared at him.

“You are such an idiot.”

[omegalomania]

I think tumblr ate my ask or it just didn't sent but what are your favorite Bastille songs / what are some songs you recommend?

i did NOT get this ask im very sorry anon.

it's genuinely hard for me to narrow down cause bastille is pretty up there in terms of favorite artists. i love all their shit, but a special mention goes out to their second studio album wild world since it's the one that made me a Fan

uh so here's a primer i guess i spent too much time on this lmao.

if you wanna listen to their big hits:

flaws - their first single in the uk. if you ever listened to ship playlists on 8tracks in like 2013-2015 then you've probably heard this song or a variant on it at some point.

pompeii - this is the song that really put them on the map and you definitely know it. it dominated the charts all over the place.

happier - the marshmello song that you've definitely heard before too. i think bastille wrote this for justin bieber or some shit but then decided they liked it too much to give it to him? lmao. anyway if you're not digging the version you hear on the radio all the time i recommend trying the stripped down version

good grief - their big hit off their second album. big in the uk, didn't really make as many waves elsewhere, but it's a really solid song anyway. one of those "upbeat tunes that's actually really fucking sad" ones

things we lost in the fire - another one off their first album. if you live in a wildfire area this might not be one to turn to. or maybe you'll find it cathartic idk i certainly do!!

quarter past midnight - a song about escapism, as was fitting when it was released in 2018 and equally fitting now. running away for a night of fucking around with friends, craving any kind of brief departure from the chaos of the modern world

skulls - this one was not a hit or a single and is technically a bonus track but i'm including it because once again if you ever clicked on a ship playlist on 8tracks in like 2013-2015 you've heard this one. and you know what that was justified this one is also good

if you wanna feel existentially depressed:

their whole discography. i mean i kid but i also don't. that's just kind of how bastille does it. BUT IN ALL SERIOUSNESS ones that hit me in particular would beeee

two evils - kind of a grim, haunting one introspecting about morality of the self.

oblivion - musing about the afterlife, love, and how time changes all of us.

those nights - contemplating what it is we seek when we plunge into reckless escapism, and the inherent loneliness of it; how even when surrounded by people there's still the pressure of the world outside, continuously coming to pieces

the draw - this one was written about the pull of pursuing a career in music vs. staying home with family and friends. in a broader sense, it can apply to a lot of things. i always felt it resonated with feelings of paranoia and displacement

winter of our youth - discusses childhood, nostalgia, and regret. if it feels like everything's slipping away, is it easier to relive the past, especially if the past is tinted rose?

sleepsong - loneliness, desperation, and the cyclical, abyss-like nature of all it encapsulates

if you want discussion of serious topics:

final hour - a bonus track off their second album that also became a bonus track off their third album? anyway this song talks about climate change and gun control. happy stuff

doom days - this one talks about, uh, everything! doomscrolling, political divides, escalating national tensions, climate change again, etc.

the currents - a song centered on political rhetoric and the power that figureheads have over the masses, the way they can orchestrate hate. basically it's not so subtly aimed at donald trump lmao, dan's literally sung it as much in a few live settings

WHAT YOU GONNA DO??? - social media addiction and the way capitalism and corporate interests have annexed our online experiences, fighting desperately for our attention as they seek to monetize every available aspect of our lives

four walls (the ballad of perry smith) - well this one is about uh. perry smith. who was charged with the death penalty for killing 4 people in the late 50's. but it's less directly about him and more a discussion of the morality of the death penalty and capital punishment

snakes - burgeoning anxieties and the impulse to turn to easy outs, like ignorance or alcoholism, to escape the world's global problems

if you want some pop culture sprinkled on top:

icarus - greek mythology. i like this one because it addresses something that i feel isn't addressed enough in discussions of this myth, which is that icarus is a very young lad. less about the pride of the fall, and more about the inherent tragedy of that.

laura palmer - the whole song is a david lynch shoutout. i've never seen twin peaks myself but the song still slaps.

daniel in the den - christian mythology. discusses the biblical tale of daniel in the lion's den and links that up to themes of betrayal and family.

poet - this one's a double feature, referencing both william shakespeare's sonnet 18 and edmund spencer's sonnet 75. also one of my favorites.

send them off! - this is another one of my favorites of theirs. it's also been described by dan as "othello meets the exorcist" and it very much delivers there

if you want something uplifting:

joy - while bastille (understandably) has a bit of reputation as a band that makes sad music about sad things, they've definitely got some happier songs in their catalogue. pun intended cha ching. this one's one of their more straightforwardly happy tunes

survivin' - this was a song they wrote while they were touring and then felt weird about releasing once the panini hit because it felt a bit on the nose. they ended up releasing it anyway and i am so glad they did cause it's a mood

act of kindness - the "happy" part here is debatable but i'm gonna include it anyway. it’s when someone does something nice for you and that impulse Changes you way down deep you know???

warmth - one of those "the world's going to shit but at least we have each other" kinds of tunes

the anchor - one of those "the world's going to shit but you're the one fucking thing that's still keeping me here" kinds of tunes

give me the future - their latest single as of this writing and one of the more optimistic tracks in their catalogue imo! it's yearning, but it's also with a genuine hope for the future.

and LASTLY. because im going to take every chance i can to plug this band. im going to throw some collabs and covers at you because there's one thing this band does SUPER well and it's collabs and covers.

of the night - this is the big one. it mashes up rhythm of the night by corona and rhythm is a dancer by SNAP! and it's so good they still do this one live and it goes off every time.

no angels - a mashup of "no scrubs" by TLC and "angels" by the xx, poured into a strangely mournful tune with clips from the hitchcock movie psycho. doesn't sound like it should work but it does. kinda really does.

torn apart - with GRADES and lizzo no less!!! it's got two parts but they're both excellent listen to them both

weapon - collab with angel haze, dan priddy, and F*U*G*Z and one of my absolute favorites

remains - remix of their song "skulls" but featuring rag'n'bone man and skunk anansie that adds an entire new dimension to the song, really fucking excellent

old town road mashup - lil nas x's old town road meets lizzo's good as hell meets radiohead's talk show host meets talking heads' road to nowhere meets the osmond's crazy horse. "what the fuck that shouldn't work" i KNOW and yet here it is!! BLATANTLY BANGING!!!

we can't stop - one of the few times dan smith subtly changes the lyrics of the song he's covering (most of the time he opts to keep the original pronouns and the like, which is very nice to see). anyway this one mixes miley cyrus's we can't stop with eminem's lose yourself and billy ray cyrus's achy breaky heart. and also the lion king's i just can't wait to be king is there. yes i know it sounds batshit especially because the whole thing is surprisingly melodic and heartfelt and you know what it works.

anyone but me x nightmares - mashing up joy crookes' anyone but me with easy life's nightmares and absolutely one of my favorites.

bad guy mashup - how many songs can they include with the word "bad" in the title? we've got bad guy (billie eilish), bad decisions (bastille), bad romance (lady gaga), and bad blood (taylor swift). bastille even has a song called bad blood and they didnt use it. they used taylor swift's version. also the distinctive guitar riff from dick dale's misirlou is there.

somebody mashup - how many songs can they include with the word "some" in the title? someone like you (adele), somebody told me (the killers), somebody to love (queen), use somebody (kings of leon), and someone you loved (lewis capaldi). seriously these guys take mashups to a new level.

final song - this is a cover of MØ's final song. it also adds in craig david's 7 days and, impossibly enough, europe's final countdown. how does it work. how.

ALL RIGHT. THATS ALL IVE GOT IN ME. HOPE THIS HELPED ANON AND IM SORRY IF THIS IS TOO MUCH

[decoresca-archive-2021]

UPDATE:

i will be moving blogs - i’m not sure how i wanna handle tumblr right now i’m torn between staying just private and limiting myself to who i let myself interact with but i also really love meeting new people and discovering new things when you find new rpers around and those two things kind of combat each other so 🤔 

TL;DR THAT IS HIDING BENEATH THE CUT: it’s been a lil bit of A Struggle”

details and a crazy idea brewing in the confines of my crazy brain below, i just didn’t want to splatter too much negativity where people can easily view it bc idk wanna add tot heir burden!!

i just want to thank y’all who are still here with me even though i’ve been nowhere and barely post and just haven’t been the most present. i’m going thru some pretty difficult things all at once ( i made a post about one a week or two ago ) and then other very awful things started going on in direct relation and correlation (are those two the same words idk) to that and my insecurities are screaming super loud rn also..... the universe is legit testing my patience rn!!!

another thing...

i got this really crazy idea

i was thinking about the youtubers i love who do stuff while they do their makeup (jamie french and cydnee black are my faves) and i thought of how fun that was and i had this idea to do stand up comedy while doing my makeup because i have been writing so much stuff but there's nowhere to present or preform it rn - and i love doing my makeup and i'm also not that great at it. i do the same looks every time i put my makeup on and i kind of wanna expand and have more fun and play around so i could riff off what i'm doing as well and ... idk i’m seriously considering pursuing it 👁️👄👁️

so i don’t know how present i’ll be because i’ve had this weird craving to both get my life and shit together but also to just press the lil red button and just SELF DESTRUCT MY ENTIRE LIFE!!!!! which is bothersome because i’m sort of going in an up direction in my life with who i am as a person even though the struggles are hard

[amor-immortalem]

My Adoring Fan chapter 7

Chapter 6

Warnings: Racism, use of a slur (the term half-breed, not an actual real world slur)

A/N: a little insight in to how Azalea lost her eye and the situation that caused it. Plus a reason for why she acts out in the way she does.

Among the last to enter among the students was Max, just barely in time for the bell to ring. She took a seat at the same table as Aurelius and Persephone just behind the table Zulima was seated at. Already, the future Avatar of Lust was chatting up her friends from the prior term excitedly.

“Hey, Golden Boy, how was your week on house arrest with your parents?” She teased him with the nickname Azalea often called him by- a riff on the translation of his name from Latin.

“It was fine. Lots of babysitting when my parents or Cyrus weren’t home which I don’t mind since it’s not like they can call on ‘Zay to watch our little brother- she won’t do it.”

“Really, I thought she was getting better about Mahlon?”

“Well, kinda... At least she can tolerate being in the same room as him now...which sucks because all he really wants is her attention.”

“Baby steps, I guess.” Max hummed as she noticed Persephone. “There you are! How are you doing after you tripped?”

“I’m well, thanks for asking.” The succubus smiles.

“That’s good. I’m sorry about what Azalea said to you earlier. It doesn’t excuse how she acted, but sometimes she can get so worked up over the little things...”

“No, that’s alright. I was kind of expecting something like that. I’ve... heard somethings about her at the House of Sorrow.”

“Most of its slander,” Aurelius says as he leans back in his chair. “I’ll let you in on a little secret. Her behavior here at school is just a front. When we’re outside of school and with our family, she’s an absolute dork. And sure, she’s not afraid to throw down, but it’s all for a just cause. Most of the fights she gets into here are with the same guy because he’s an absolute creep and makes most of the girls uncomfortable and they're all afraid of him since he towers above them, so she stands up for them. Unfortunately, none of the other students won’t stick up for her when a teacher shows up and she gets blamed for throwing the first punch.”

“That seems a little unfair. Why doesn’t your sister ever say anything?”

“Well, our dad’s unfortunately a very busy demon. He doesn't have as much time for us as he would like to have like he did when we were little so she at some point in a bid to get him to give her the attention needed to satisfy her greed, got it in her head that if she gets into trouble on a regular basis, he would have to give her the attention she craves. It works but it’s been straining their relationship big time because he gets frustrated with her since he knows what a good kid she actually is... They used to fight three or four times a week about it.”

“That must’ve been tough on her...”

“She’s been on a good streak lately though,” Max offered. “As silly as it is, we actually have a white board up in the kitchen that lists the number of days it's been since her last fight. We have a reward system to go with it. It’s been three months already.”

“That long already?” The half-demon asks.

“Yep. She’s been on her best behavior ever since losing her eye.”

“Wait, your sister lost an eye?” The former idol asks in shock. “How did that happen?”

Aurelius and Max looked between each other with a frown. “A group of lower demons with an axe to grind against my dad abducted her and essentially tortured her for three months. They tried to hit him where it would hurt him the most by taking away his only daughter. For as much as they used to fight when she’d get in trouble, she has a special place in his heart. Out of the four of us kids, Azalea’s the one who’s most closely bonded with our father. It was four days before any of us noticed that she was missing... Our parents feel especially bad about it...”

Persephone was about to say something when the teacher entered and called for the class's attention.

------------------------------------------------------

By the time Azalea managed to make it to homeroom, the class had already started a half hour ago. As she strolled in, the teacher called her out on her late arrival.

“Well, well, well. So nice of you to join us at your leisure, Morningstar. You’d better have a good reason for being late.”

“Didn’t wanna come ‘n have ta listen ta yer annoyin’ voice for an hour.” The girl responds, openly taunting her teacher. “Got better things ta do than listen ta you call me a worthless half-breed.”

“Well, you’re still as much of a brat as ever. Maybe if you put as much care into arriving to your homeroom hour as you did into your other classes, I wouldn’t have such a problem with you. Now go sit down and try to behave yourself in my class. Or can you not even manage that?”

“I dunno. Can you actually manage ta properly teach a single one of yer classes?” She sneered.

“Go sit down before I give you detention, you spoiled delinquent.” She grumbled. “I swear, not even your father was this disrespectful towards me when he was a student here.”

Azalea only rolled an eye as she headed toward the back of the class were her brother and Max were seated.

“Where do you think you’re going, half-breed?”

“To do what ya said and sit down,” Her grip on her cane tightened, the slur a trigger word for her. “Or do ya just want me ta hold up the class?”

A couple of students snickered amongst themselves.

“According to this educational plan your parents and uncle have written up for you, you have to sit up front where I can keep eyes on you and there are no distractions. Or are you so stupid and forgetful that you don’t remember signing this yourself? Also, I want that cane that you have after you sit down. You’re not allowed weapons on school premises.”

“No. I ain’t givin’ it to ya and it ain’t a damn weapon. I need it ta see where I’m fuckin’ goin’ on the right side. Get over it, teach.”

The teacher only let out a frustrated growl. “You know what, I don’t have to deal with this. Get out of my classroom. Off with you to the headmaster’s office. Your referral will be up momentarily.”

“Hey, that’s not fair!” Aurelius stood from his table abruptly.

“Yeah,” Zulima piped up as well. “You’re the one who copped an attitude with her in the first place.”

“And you’ve been insulting her and you called her a slur. You’re the one in the wrong here.” Max spoke up.

“Would the three of you like to join her then? I can write anything about you all on here and it’ll be your word against mine. Now sit down, all three of you. I don’t want to hear a single word out of the three of you unless spoken to for the rest of the class.”

“Don’t talk to my family and my friend like that, ya hag!”

“I fucking dare you,” Aurelius growled as he moved to stand beside his older sister. “I fucking dare you to write the four of us up. It’ll be the last thing you do.”

The rest of the class was dead silent as they all looked between their teacher, Azalea, and Aurelius.

“I will. Now the four of you get out of my sight. It’s ridiculous that Lord Diavolo would allow trash such as you abominations into our fine establishment of a school in the first place. This is a school for demons, not half-breeds and a lowly human.”

“We’re not trash or abominations. Unlike you, we’re nobility of the highest degree.” Zulima glared at the teacher as she gathered her things and went to join the twins by the door. “Our Uncle will hear about this exchange. Plan on looking for another job in the near future- if you even survive, that is.”

“You claim it’s your word against ours but you do know that our word holds so much more weight than yours ever will, right?” Max joined the three half-demons by the door before they all headed out.

------------------------------------------------------

“Sorry I got ya guys kicked outta class with me...” Azalea sighs as the four of them head toward Lord Diavolo’s office.

“Eh, small price to pay for standing up for you.” Aurelius shrugs. “That teacher’s always had a stick up her ass anyway.”

“I hope she gets fired at the very least,” Zulima nodded. “She nearly failed me last term in World Language. All because she couldn’t believe that I could write a college-level thesis in Latin. Told me an airhead like myself could never be capable of writing such a competent paper and that I must have plagiarized it or cheated in some fashion.

“I almost failed her Potions class as well last term,” Max hummed. “And she set me up on it too. I know she did. I don’t get how a teacher can have her hands in so many subjects at the same time and still be a shit teacher.”

“All teachers here at RAD have an all-around degree in education,” Azalea explained. “I get why she would have it out for me, but the three of you- what did y’all do to her?”

“Other than daring to exist? Nothing actually,” Aurelius sighs, “And that’s the infuriating part of it all. We’ve done nothing wrong and yet we still get put down.”

“And it’s not like we just cruised past the entrance exams because the headmaster is a close family friend...” the silver-haired girl wiped at her eyes. “We all worked our butts off to study and ace the entrance exams... I lost so many nights of beauty sleep while we studied under Uncle Satan- especially when we didn’t have too.”

“So, you all could have gotten in without the entrance exams?” The human asks, ice-blue eyes shining curiously.

“Lord Diavolo told us whether we did well on the entrance exams or not, a place in RAD was assured for us because he’d seen our grades in primary school and middle school and knew we would do great things as a part of the student body.” the green-eyed teen nodded. “But we all wanted to prove to everyone without a doubt that we belonged here.”

“It’s still like that.” Azalea smiled sadly. “That’s why I pushed myself ta make it inta the advanced studies programme in the first place and why I shoot for the top spot in the end of term exams. We’re so heavily criticized by everyone outside of our family that I told myself I’d make my grades so perfect that they wouldn’t have room ta talk trash about my intelligence and when they called me weak, I started getting inta fights ta prove my power and strength as the daughter of one of the strongest demons in the devildom so no one would dare to question it again- well that was part of the reason anyway.”

“Imagine what it’ll look like when Meli gets here next year,” Zulima chuckles, “If that teacher doesn’t get fired, Meli might actually kill her in a rage. If there’s anyone who hates being called a half-breed more than us, it’s her.”

“RIP to her then. Maybe Meli might knock that hag down a peg and I hope she does.” Aurelius laughed as they finally made it to their destination.

“Ready everyone? If they don’t believe us- which is highly unlikely- I have audio of the way she talked to us.” Max says as she opens the door.

The four of them are greeted by the secretary who greeted them kindly. “Hello, children. I already know what Azalea is here for but what about the rest of you? You should all be in class.”

“We got kicked out for standing up for ‘Zay.” Zulima sighed. “So the teacher sent us up to the headmaster’s office.”

“That’s unfortunate.” The demon frowned. “Lord Diavolo is in an all-day meeting with the Avatars. You four can just go back to your dorm and you’ll meet with him tomorrow at 6 am. Sound good?”

The teens nodded at that and Azalea pulled out her D.D.D.

“What are you doing?” Max asks, arms slung around her girlfriend's shoulders.

“Callin’ Mum ta see if she’ll come pick us up. I don’t really wanna walk all the way back home and I’d rather be there than at the House of Lamentation. Plus, you’ve never seen our house before and I wanna show ya what it looks like since whenever we had a break ya always went ta stay with Zulima.”

“Also, I don’t think our parents would appreciate me not going straight home after getting sent home early. I don’t want them to think that I’m breaking the rules of my punishment.”

“That sounds great!” Zulima smiled. “We’ll be able to explain what happened easier if we’re all in one place. I don’t think Uncle Lucifer would take to kindly to having to go to two separate places just to hear the same story twice.”

“Yeah, sounds ‘bout right.” The white- and black-haired girl placed the phone up to her ear as she waited for her mother to pick up.

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Next

Read more on my Masterlist

[homebody-nobody]

close my eyes and jump

I did it I wrote fanfic for a children’s show about ghosts because i have add and it was either this or slam my head against my environmental engineering homework until i finished it or it finished me. Anyway, please read this idk i think it’s cute (also pls give me ur thoughts in the tags/reblogs/comment on ao3 I crave that sweet sweet feedback) ---------- There’s been no time for them to talk about it, barely any time for her to even think about it. Their immediate next concern was Caleb and the stamp draining the life from her boys -- her band, her second family. Also, she couldn’t touch him before and something -- anything -- it felt impossible, too absurd to even consider. But now, he’s solid in front of her, tangible under her hands, his fingers tucked between hers. And that… that changes things.  -------- ao3 ------

“This is still so weird,” Julie says on a half-chuckle as Luke’s hands hover above hers. They’re sitting on the couch in the studio, facing each other, legs crossed and feet tucked under. Their knees are touching, as are a good portion of their lower legs, and, for a ghost, Luke is surprisingly warm, the heat of him seeping through the layers of fabric and spreading over her skin. Alex and Reggie fell asleep hours ago, the latter draped across a beanbag in the loft, the former with his head on the pillow he kept in his kick drum as a muffler.

Julie had barely noticed when the other two boys had drifted away and fallen asleep. After they’d discovered that the boys were solid, they’d collapsed onto the couch in a pile, reveling in the feeling of weight and warmth. She ended up tucked under Luke’s arm, her back pressed to his chest, Alex fully in her lap, Reggie leaning up against Luke’s legs, none of them wanting to let go. They talked and laughed and made plans and Julie’s heart ached when she realized that these boys -- her boys -- had just faced death a second time and were still fighting for their dreams. She went quiet with the heavy understanding, and Luke, talking to Reggie, traced his fingertips up and down her arm, holding her tighter to him. She tucked her face into his shoulder and inhaled the smell of him, flannel and old spice, paper and echoes, unsure of how he could feel so solid and real against her but reveling in the moment. 

Her dad had come in at some point, and she’d gone in and had a snack while he gushed about her performance and told her how proud he was of her. She’d changed for bed for appearances sake, but as soon as she heard his bedroom door close, she was sneaking back down the stairs and out to the garage. 

Now, with the other members of their band passed out (ghosts didn’t technically need sleep, but it still feels nice and helps them retain a routine), Julie and Luke play a game Julie’s dad taught her and Carlos to waste time in line at Disney World when they went when Julie was eleven. Julie flips her hands up and slaps the back of Luke’s with frightening efficiency, and he laughs, pretending to be hurt before they switch places. She’s pretty sure he keeps letting her win just to feel her hands on his. 

“Good weird or bad weird?” he asks, as he wiggles his fingers and Julie jerks her hands back, giggling. 

“Okay, so maybe not weird,” she relents, settling her hands back above his, but closer this time, so her fingertips are just brushing the heels of his palms. The light brush of skin sends goosebumps up her arms that have nothing to do with Luke being a ghost. “Different,” she settles, her eyes darting back to their game when she looks up to see him staring at her. 

“Different good, or --” he says, making an attempt, biting his lip when Julie’s too fast for him. “Different bad?” Their palms are touching now, and Luke’s fingers are long enough to brush her wrist. His hands are so much bigger than hers, strong and nimble with years of practice dancing across steel strings, fingertips so callused they’re practically numb. He drags them across her palm, until the pads of her fingers hook on his, and she curls their hands together. 

“Different good,” she says, the words rushing out on an unintentional breath. Luke knows her voice well enough to hear that it’s sitting higher in her chest, like when she’s reaching for one of her earth-shattering notes, or -- he realizes, with a sheepish smile he has no chance of keeping off his face -- when she’s nervous. Julie twists her fingers in his, pushing them up until they’re palm to palm, pressed together. Her hands are small in comparison, the same short fingers and wide palms as her mom, a pianist’s worst nightmare, but she makes it work, and makes it work well. 

She’s so warm, and soft, and he never wants to stop touching her. 

“That would be kind of difficult,” she says, “with school and everything.” Luke swallows hard, realizing he said that out loud. 

“No one would see me,” he jokes, keeping his tone light but maybe half-serious. They both keep their eyes on their hands, twisting and tracing and intertwining before pressing together again. If he looks at her, he’s not going to be able to not kiss her, and since he’s not totally sure where she stands on that and his impulse control is historically a little iffy, he’ll stay in safe territory “I won’t even trip Nick.” 

She scoffs. “Yeah, cause I believe that.” 

“What?” he laughs, “I’ll be nice,” He ducks his head and leans into the next sentence, a movement that seems instinctual rather than planned, and even for such a beautiful boy, such a gifted performer, he’s still gawky and lanky and seventeen, still just a kid. “I promise.” But he’s biting the inside of his cheek, and Julie knows if she had the courage to meet his eyes, they’d be twinkling with the kind of mischief that always leads to something ridiculous. 

They lapse into silence, and while it’s not uncomfortable, it’s not easy, either. It’s -- weighted. After Julie rejected Nick -- which, she remembers on a sharp inhale, he does not know about -- and went to go visit Luke’s parents, and their conversation after… There’s been tension between them. If she’s being honest, there’s been tension since the garage party, since she hasn’t been able to get the way he looked at her out of her head, the way she hums the guitar riff when she knows she’s alone, the way she remembers his eyes flickering between hers and her lips. 

There’s been no time for them to talk about it, barely any time for her to even think about it. Their immediate next concern was Caleb and the stamp draining the life from her boys -- her band, her second family. Also, she couldn’t touch him before and something -- anything -- it felt impossible, too absurd to even consider. But now, he’s solid in front of her, tangible under her hands, his fingers tucked between hers. And that… that changes things. 

“Speaking of Nick,” Julie says, before she loses the courage to do so. 

He stops fiddling with her fingers and leans, just barely, out of her space. Luke is always bouncing, twitching, bouncing his leg, twiddling with something, chewing on a guitar pick -- the boy never sits still; but, he holds her hands still in his lap, and that’s how she knows he’s really listening, every inch on him edge, waiting for what she has to say. He doesn’t say anything, just nods, barely. 

“He asked me out.” The air goes out of him at once, and even the warmth of him seems to pull away. He’s not looking at her, but she watches the shutters close in his eyes, blinds coming down over the light and joy that had been pouring out of him all night. And then, she takes a breath. “I said no.” 

His eyes snap up to hers, and brown gets lost in grey-green, and he thinks, one out of countless times, that nothing is as warm and soft as Julie’s eyes. “You --” He swallows, and licks his lips, and has to take another half a breath when she watches him do it. “But I thought --” 

She shrugs. “He asked me if I liked somebody else, and…” Julie thinks back to the conversation, watching herself reject the boy she’d liked since middle school, Luke’s smile in her mind’s eye the whole time. “It felt wrong to let him get his hopes up when --” Luke readjusts, his sunshine-smile creeping out as he realizes what she’s talking about. She likes him. She likes him!! Gripping her hands tighter, his shift brings him closer to her, and as he nears, her brain short-circuits, throwing out the rest of her sentence to focus on his eyelashes, long and dark, every single one of her (few) functioning brain cells wondering how they don’t tangle together when he blinks. 

“When?” he prompts, and he’s leaning closer, putting his lips right there but making it her choice, even pulling their hands out of the way so he can angle himself closer to her. 

“When I…” But how is she supposed to finish a sentence when he’s so close she can feel his breath across her face, making her shiver, and how do ghosts have breath but now’s not really the time to care about that because he’s dragging his thumb over the first knuckle of her index finger and he’s so warm and close and real that it doesn’t matter that he’s dead and she’s not and it doesn’t matter what Flynn says and it doesn’t matter if this makes sense because she’s wanted to kiss him for so long and now she can and he’s right there. 

If Luke had a heartbeat, it would be racing as he waits for Julie to finish her sentence or maybe pull back or maybe even slap him for assuming what he’s doing is anywhere near okay, and the seconds drag on like hours as he watches her eyes and she watches his lips. This feels kind of like the end of their performance at the garage party, except then it was harmless because nothing could happen, not when they were in front of her family and all her friends, not when he couldn’t touch her. It feels kind of like when they got back from his parents house, when he felt like his chest was going to explode and he was going to finally tell her exactly how he felt about her, but then her hand phased through his, and Caleb’s jolt struck down any chance of anything happening at all. 

But now they’re finally alone, and he can touch her, and she’s so close and he used to think that he knew what it felt like to hope with his whole chest, when it was still 1995 and he was chasing his dreams with his two best friends, but that was nothing compared to now, with this strong, intelligent, talented, powerhouse of a girl in front of him, that he cares about so much, that he hopes against hope feels the same way about him. 

And just when it feels like the clock has ticked down too many times, and the moment starts to wean, and panic starts to settle in Luke’s chest, Julie surges up to meet him. She disentangles her fingers from his and holds his face to hers, her kiss fierce and passionate and unrelenting, the same way she does everything else. 

Luke holds one of her hands against his face, trying not to let his smile break contact, feeling like no song he ever writes will really capture how it feels to kiss her, to have her holding on to him like a lifeline, the way their lips move together in the same kind of harmony that makes their music so special. Before she reached him, she was hoping he couldn’t feel how nervous she was, how badly she didn’t want to mess this up, hoped that he wouldn’t be able to tell she'd never kissed anyone before. But now he’s kissing her back, and it feels so easy, so natural, like singing with him, push and pull, give and take, letting him lift her up, pushing closer and pulling him across the stage, pulling him down on top of her as she lays back on the couch. 

He pulls back as they situate themselves, Julie on her back, Luke mostly above her but keeping his weight off her by putting himself mostly between her and the back of the couch. Her lips are shining and the most perfect pink, her fingers twisted in his hair. He feels like he could fly, if she asked him to. She lets out half a nervous chuckle, the same one that always slips out just after the boys disappear from the stage. “I --” she tries “was that -- I mean --” 

Looking at her, Luke doesn’t think he could answer her question, even if she finished it. He should be used to surprises with Julie, at this point. First, finding out that she could sing, and then that she was such a talented writer, and then such a good friend, and now, not only that she likes him, but that she can kiss like that. 

“Was that okay?” she finally manages, and Luke’s mind is so thoroughly blown that the only thing he can do is kiss her again, one arm propping him up, the other hand on her waist, and her hands in his hair, holding him close to her. 

It’s so easy to lose himself in her, and he doesn’t know how long it is before he pulls away again. “So okay,” he says, dropping his face to press it into her neck. “Way better than okay,” he goes on, pressing small kisses there in rapid succession that make her giggle and squirm out from under him. He drops to his side and she wiggles so that she’s facing him, his arm under her head, his other hand on her hip, her fingers loosely curled in the front of his shirt. The world feels quiet and warm and just for the two of them, like they can’t hear Reggie snoring from the loft or hear the cars passing occasionally on the residential street, their headlights throwing shadows across the walls and ceiling. 

“I’m glad it was --” she laughs again, and it’s better than any music he’ll ever make. “Way better than okay,” she goes on, dropping her voice to mimic him poorly. 

He doesn’t rise to the bait like he usually does, knowing she’s still nervous and unsure, desperate to set it right before they can hide behind their humor and teasing once more. “Julie,” he says, and the sound of her name seems to pull her even closer, like the word has its own gravitational pull coming out of his mouth. “You’re beautiful, and smart, and so talented.” She blushes and chuckles and pushes her forehead into his shoulder. Lifting his hand up, he pushes her face back gently, so he can look into her eyes as he speaks. “You’re incredible,” he says, realizing how much he means it when the weight of it spills out of his chest. The next words are automatic. “And I --” 

He stops, shocked with himself, and her eyes get big, and if he wasn’t already dead he might wish for it, embarrassment and regret pushing their way up his throat as he realized what he was about to say. It’s too much for her, and too soon, he knows, and he never should have opened his mouth, never should have kissed her, never should have initiated any of this, because he’s dead and she’s not, and the afterlife is such an unpredictable thing that they don’t have any sort of future, and he can’t love her and leave her, not when she’s already lost so much. Inhaling, he opens his mouth, ready to apologize or just blunder his way through too many words without accomplishing much at all, but Julie says something before he can. “Really?” 

His eyes return to hers, and that gaze feels like home, blowing all of his worries away with one blink. He doesn’t understand how it’s so easy to think until he looks at her. He can plan to say so much, have entire explanations prepared and then those big, brown eyes settle on him and he’s so mesmerized he can’t remember a single thing he was about to say. He breathes in a shaky inhale, and nods. She crushes herself against him, her head under his chin, her forehead pushed against his collarbone, her wild hair itching his face. He wraps his arms around her, so deeply grateful that he can do that now, that he can hold her and put a boundary around whatever feels too big for her to handle by herself. 

She heaves a stuttering breath before pulling back and meeting his eyes. “I --” she stutters, “Um --” and then, biting down a shy smile. “Me too.” 

And then, again, joy explodes in his chest and he’s kissing her again, flipping himself underneath her. They’re both smiling too much for it to feel exactly like a kiss, so he just pulls her to him and holds her, and she closes her eyes, her ear pressed to his chest, one arm tucked under his shoulder and the other pressed around his waist. 

They stay like that for a long time before Julie starts to feel herself dropping off, and when she whispers that she should get back inside so she can sleep in her bed, Luke asks her to stay, just until the sun rises. So she adjusts into a more comfortable position, laying on her side but mostly on top of him, her head directly over where his heart would be, her face tilted up so her nose brushes the hollow of his throat. One of his arms is around her, the other holding her hand on his chest. They kiss for a while, slow and tentative, learning each other, until she can’t keep her eyes open, and he traces his fingers over her back in shapes that just might be lyrics. As she drifts in the space just between waking and dreams, a heartbeat echoes faintly in her ear, steady and slow -- just real enough that she knows it isn’t her imagination.