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#I think he should be 23 and terrible
elizababie · 10 months
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Happy STS!!
What recurring elements (character archetypes, themes, plotlines, worldbuilding etc.) appear over and over again in your writing, across multiple WIPs?
Happy STS, thanks for the ask <3!!!
Ooooooh boy, the Big Ones™ that haunt my WIPs (intentionally or not) are generational trauma and grief. No matter what my original concept was, 9/10 times it circles back around in SOME way to those two themes at the core.
What i’m just realizing now, thinking about it, is that one hyper-specific element I use WAY more often than I realized is imagery surrounding drowning, specifically drowning after falling through a frozen lake.
bonus: all three in one scene beneath the cut
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awearywritersworld · 9 months
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tell me you don't want me
gojo satoru x reader summary: gojo adds falling in love with his dead best friend's little sister to the list of things that keep him up at night w/c: 1.8k tags/warnings: angst to fluff. gojo takes care of reader when they have a migraine. they watch shark week together, so shark haters beware. arguing, but nothing super harsh. protective!gojo. reader is referred to as a sister but there are no pronouns. gojo is around 27, reader 23. curse words. no out right smut, but a heavily suggestive ending so lets say 18+ a/n: i've been writing purely fluff for gojo, so it seems about time to return to my angst/fluff roots. today's epi made me had me feeling some type of way. may write a part two to this? idk lemme know what you think! masterlist check out my latest work for gojo here
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after you arrived at jujutsu high as a first year, everyone wore the same expression when they looked at you, their eyes full of pity and apprehension. you really couldn't blame them though. after what happened with suguru, you were left a shell of yourself, paranoid that you were destined to the same fate as your older brother.
however, the boy that suguru called his best friend held something different in his gaze whenever his eyes fell on you. understanding, maybe? gojo knew that if there was anyone in the world who missed suguru as much as he did, it had to be you.
for most of the year, the two of you really only talked in passing, dancing around a discussion neither of you were brave enough to initiate. then your brother's birthday rolled around and you found yourself drenched in rain, sneaking into the boys' dormitory to knock on gojo satoru's door.
he wasn't surprised to find you standing there.
"that idiot always refused to let me celebrate his birthday," you blurted out, damp hair sticking to your forehead.
he laughed. it was just a breath, but it was still genuine. "right? he couldn't stand being fussed over for one day."
and as you both stood there, rain pattering against the window, you felt months of unspoken tension melt away. "well, come in. i bought cake."
after that day, gojo took on the roll of your older brother and he really leaned into it. flicking your forehead to annoy you, threatening anyone he thought had a crush on you, giving you advice whenever he deemed you needed it.
you weren't sure if he was aware, even after all these years, that he'd saved you— pulled you away from the brink. you became like the little sister he never had, while he tried his best to fill the hole suguru had left in your heart.
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gojo spends more time in your apartment than his own, so it's no surprise when he barges in one afternoon, singing out your name (rather terribly, one might add).
"i have a migraine, 'toru," you groan from the couch, pulling the blanket up over your head as the bright light from behind his figure worsens your discomfort. all of your blinds are shut, the curtains pulled together. "can you please close the door?"
he hums, stepping inside and pulling the door shut quietly. "you seem to be getting them a lot lately."
"probably because i spend so much time with you," you whine facetiously.
he gasps, hand clutching at his heart. "i come all the way here to visit you, only to be ridiculed. my devastation is untellable."
after grabbing a washcloth from the linen closet, he pads over to the kitchen sink. you peer at him from under the blanket as he runs it under cold water, noting how the veins in his forearms become more prominent once he wrings it out.
you're laying across the entirety of the couch, but you scoot away from the edge and he situates himself in the space beside your hip, his body facing you. the corner of his mouth is turned down, evidence of the worry swirling in his chest. he presses the back of his fingers to your forehead before folding the cloth neatly and laying it there.
"you should mention the migraines to shoko," he suggests earnestly.
"they just flare up sometimes, you know that. it's really not a big deal."
"yeah, maybe.. but i still worry about you."
you can't help but notice how close he is and while it feels casual, it also feels... intimate? the cold cloth does bring some relief to your head, though you'd have preferred it if his hand had remained there instead.
"have you eaten?" he questions after a moment, pulling you from your thoughts.
"not yet."
"then i'll go pick up some food," he offers, rising to his feet. "do you need anything else-"
"no," you say a little too quickly, your fingers wrapping around his wrist. "i mean.. can you just stay?"
he suddenly looks very smug. "oh, what's this? are you sure spending more time with me won't make your head feel worse?"
you attempt to roll your eyes but the movement sends a sharp pain through your skull, causing you to grumble. "don't make me hurt you satoru. i was joking."
"i know," he smirks, decently self satisfied. "but you do have to eat, so-"
"there's leftover egg drop in the fridge, can you just warm that up for me please?"
"'course! anything for you, (y/n)-chan!"
his tone makes it sound as if he's teasing you, but he knows it's the truth. he's painfully aware that there isn't a thing you could ask of him that he'd deny. he tries not to think about that though, because he can't bring himself to admit what it all means.
once your soup is ready, he joins you on the couch. you move to sit up and while that makes plenty of room for him, he still lifts your legs, sitting so that they lay across his lap. one of his hands is resting on your shin, the other on your knee.
"shark week?" he suggests as you reach for the remote.
you nod eagerly. "yes."
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the two of you have never fought before.
well, maybe that's not entirely true. it isn't uncommon for the both of you to argue over video games, the latest chapter of a manga, or other things of that nature. but you and gojo have never had a genuine disagreement.
that is, until you mention wanting to challenge a decision made by the higher ups. he's well aware of how they deal with people they deem troublesome, so he can't help the vexation that bubbles up in his chest at your words.
"absolutely not," he tells you. his voice is low, not one hint of amusement to be found.
the tone leaves you narrowing your eyes, and you sound a bit misbelieving when you ask, "what do you mean 'absolutely not'?"
after everything that happened with geto, the higher ups have been wary of you. honestly, they're probably just looking for an excuse to pull another stunt like the detention center and he can't risk that. he can't risk losing you.
rather than express any part of that sentiment, however, he just goes all stone faced and vague. it's weird, so naturally it's followed by a bit of back and forth that goes nowhere, the conversation growing unreasonably volatile with each passing second.
why can't you just listen to him? why can't you give him the benefit of the doubt? he's earned that by now, hasn't he?
"i don't understand!" you hiss, your chest heaving with indignation. "why are you acting like this?"
because i love you. because i need you. because you mean more to me than everything else in this world put together.
he can't possibly say that though.. can't lay his shame bare for you to see.. can't bring himself to admit the feelings he has for you.
he's in love with dead best friend's little sister and it's wrong. it keeps him up at night. claws away at his self respect.
"i'll take care of it," he promises, sounding a bit defeated. "just please stay out of it."
"quit treating me like i'm a child, satoru. you're not my father."
your assertion makes the air in the room shift, and the feeling that forms in the pit of gojo's stomach is not unlike a cord being pulled too taut before snapping.
"so what am i then, huh? what am i to you?" he interrogates, taking a step toward you.
his eyes burn with intensity and the conviction in his voice is dizzying, especially since it's meant only for you. he immediately notices the way you stiffen, suddenly unable to meet his eye.
he swallows thickly, any restraint he has left ebbing away once he hears your small, nervous voice. "'toru, w... what do you-"
you're cut off when he takes another step in your direction, your back meeting with the wall after you attempt to maintain the space between the both of you.
one of his palms presses to the wall beside your head, though the other remains at his side. he doesn't want to trap you there, not when he still doesn't have a clear idea of how you're feeling.
his breath fans across your face, your mind struggling to process what was happening. you whisper his name, unsure of how else to respond.
"i want you." he nearly chokes on the words, the pain of admitting them evident in his voice. "want you more than anything."
and he does. he wants you more than the sleep he never gets. more than he wants to honor suguru. more than he wants to be a good man.
his head dips down, your breath catching in your throat when his lips find the spot on your jaw just below your ear.
"please, tell me to stop," he begs, sending a shiver down your spine.
your hands move to his chest, the rise and fall of it uneven and sporadic. god, you make him so fucking weak it's almost pathetic.
his lips shift to your cheek, closer to your mouth, and his hand reaches up to cradle the other side of your face. he sounds irrevocably desperate now, "tell me you don't want me."
your heart's beating so loudly in your ear drums, you can hardly hear yourself speak. "satoru, please."
"please what?" he asks, and for a moment you're unsure of the answer.
you try to open your mouth once more, but the words are lodged in your throat. confusion and frustration rattle around in your head, making it difficult to string together your thoughts. finally you just give in, grabbing his face between your hands and pulling his lips against your own.
he let's out a strangled noise, some unknowable mix of pleasure and relief. his hands land on your hips at once, greedily pulling your body against his own.
his lips are chapped, but they're perfect in the way they move against yours. the kiss isn't clumsy, nor is it unsure. it's ardent and comfortable, as if it's the most natural thing in the world.
you pull away first, each of you holding the other's gaze. you're both hazy eyed, your mouths curved into giddy, lovesick grins.
gojo doesn't hesitate when you glance down at his lips, your words easing that bitter self loathing he'd been enduring for longer than he cares to admit. "if you want me... then make me yours."
taglist: @torusmochi @moonmalice
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help-itrappedmyself · 1 month
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Dead on Main Part 9
My apology for the earlier mishap. Hope you like it!
Masterpost
A few hours later, a fourth of the way home, they start arguing about who should drive the next shift. There seem to be two main arguments. The first is between Dick and Bruce on whether Bruce even needs a break.The second is between Dick and Tim about who should take over for Bruce.
Bruce has been driving for four hours, and it’s now about midnight, so he should take a break to sleep. Dick had napped for about an hour after the panicked stop when Jason’s ectoplasm had gone haywire, and he was the only one who had slept so far. He’s winning the argument between him and Bruce. Because he was the only one who had napped so far, and apparently Tim had been awake for a terrible amount of time, Dick is also winning the argument between him and Tim.
Danny is pretty sure even sleep deprived most people would drive better than his father, and he doesn’t have a driver’s license so he keeps quiet. It’s funny how intense they get in their arguments without ever becoming serious. Danny appreciates that no matter how intense they get there’s never any anger in their voices.
“Tim, you haven’t slept more than five hours in the last two days, you are not driving this car. There is no way you are driving this car. Neither of us are going to let you.”
“Bruce has been awake for 23 hours straight!” Tim argues.
“Which is why Bruce should also not be driving anymore!”
“Tim you are definitely not driving, go to sleep. Dick, If we switch drivers we have to stop and we can’t afford to stop and waste time. We’ll switch drivers when we need gas next.” Bruce states rationally. Danny thinks this is a good argument really.
“If we crash and die we’ll also waste time.” Tim points out, sulking.
“Switching drivers will take all of two seconds and so help me If I am not driving in the next two minutes I am commandeering the radio for the rest of the trip and you know neither of you will be able to stop me.”
Danny isn’t sure why that is so serious of a threat, but that shut both Bruce and Tim up immediately. Bruce pulls over and they do a quick seating change. Since Bruce and Tim need to sleep so one of them can drive later, Danny switches into the passenger seat while Dick slips into the driver's seat. That way Bruce and Tim can stretch out in the back.
“What do you listen to that they dislike so much?” Danny asks a little later. Danny can’t tell if either of them are sleeping, but neither of them have moved at all in the last ten minutes. He’s quiet just in case.
“I mean, I like a lot of music. They just know that I can put on circus music for hours. I grew up in a circus, so I'll even enjoy doing it. It annoys them after like three songs at most though.”
Danny has a moment where all he can think of is Freakshow’s circus, but he shakes it off.
“Did all of you grow up in the circus?” Danny could have sworn Bruce was more like Vlad. Grew up wealthy, ran a business (less illegally, he thinks, but that's not hard considering), and went to parties and stuff. Dick laughs at his question.
“No, only me, I’m afraid.” Dick glances at the back seat, before refocusing on the road. “Bruce adopted all of us, except for Damian. But even Damian grew up with his mother before coming to live with Bruce. So all of us have very different upbringings actually. Circus for me. Jason was next, he had a hard life before Bruce found him, and after too. He’s been through a lot. Tim had rich parents, they loved him but weren't around much. Duke was adopted after his parents died but he was raised by both of them, he had the most normal life growing up.”
“Tim and Damian both found Bruce more than the other way around. Damian’s mom… loves him a lot, but she was in a dangerous situation and wanted Damian to be safe. So she dropped him off with us.” You could hear the love in Dick’s voice as he spoke about his family.
“Your family seems happy. Nice. I mean, you all dropped everything to drive me home. I appreciate it.” Danny thought carefully for a moment, he didn't want to learn too much second hand. He'd rather get to know Jason personally. But some things only family can tell you. “Do you think Jason and I will get along? From what I've heard I know we have similar senses of humor, at least relating to our own deaths. And, well, we have that experience to bond over. But our lives seem like they've been very different.”
Dick’s face softens. “I think that Jason has spent his whole life fighting. For anything and everything. He's not going to stop now. You guys’ll figure it out.”
Danny looks at him. “Have you met your soulmate?”
Dick’s whole face lights up. “I have. We knew each other before the switch, but.. it was still a lot of drama and awkwardness at first. I think Bruce almost had a heart attack when it happened, and then an aneurysm when he found out who it was. That was hilarious.”
Dick glances at Danny, saw him biting his lip and twisting his hands together, eyes in his lap. “We had met, but we still had a lot to learn about each other. Getting to know him has been one of the best parts of my life. He’s my best friend.”
Dick reaches over and ruffles Danny’s hair. “Why don't you try to sleep Danny. You'll be meeting him soon.”
Danny nodded, giving Dick a light smile and settling himself into his chair.
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magpie-murder · 5 months
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it'd be wild if they gave asgard's citizens phones in marvel i bet they'd have the best drama
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👴🏻 is-odin-dead-yet
No.
#date: 2023/11/23 #when will he croak #i've been running this blog for centuries #frigga for allfather #kick the bucket already i'm getting bored of posting here
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⛈️ god-of-thunder
I come to Tumblr with a regretful update. As you may know, my family and our fiercest warriors have been traveling between realms in search of our stolen relics.
While attempting to recover one, my brother lost his life in battle while protecting us. He shielded me with his body. My brother died a hero.
einherjarl-deactivated20231120
May he reach Folkvangr. My deepest condolences. But I thought Baldur was impervious to all harm...?
⛈️ god-of-thunder
It was Loki. :( I'm devastated.
einherjarl-deactivated20231120
Oh.
🐍 magic-theatre
is that all you can muster? "oh." you thought i was dead, and that's it? that's all you have? what do you mean by that? let's talk. :)
⛈️ god-of-thunder
You're alive? Where are you?
⛈️ god-of-thunder
Wait, what happened to @einherjarl? He deactivated?
⛈️ god-of-thunder
Loki?
23,034 notes
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🎨 bragis-apprentice
Just finished custom making this handle
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#metalwork #artists on tumblr #double sided axe #my art
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⚔️ aesir-warrior-tournament
⚡️LIGHTNING ROUND⚡️
einherjarl-deactivated20231120
?
einherjarl-deactivated20231120
Lady Sif is not one of The Warriors Three. It says it in the name. There are three of them. Not four.
Correct this.
✨️ the-dashingest
I voted for Sif.
🪓 valiant-festivals
I voted for Sif.
🔺️ grim-warrior
I voted for Sif.
✨️ the-dashingest
Wait, Hogun? But you didn't tell us you had a phone?
🔺️ grim-warrior
I don't.
#lady sif propaganda #lightning round #poll reblog #only one more round after this! #i'm so glad lady sif doesn't have tumblr lol #i hope you guys dont mind that a mortal is running this blog btw #i really didnt expect any of you to see this 😬 #and srry for the reblog spam #also hogun lol
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🐍 magic-theatre
i see your thirst edits, you sick freaks.
#start tagging me in them #and/or sending them to me
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⛵️ modern-technologist Follow
umm i'm in ohio to visit my parents and there's like. um . a giant wolf running alongside my car? i'd call animal control but this thing is ginormous and i don't think that would do anything.
it doesnt have a leash or anything (obv its bigger than my car) but it's covered in chains. what do i do??
@identifying-d𝚘gs-in-posts ??
🐕 identifying-dogs-in-posts Follow
Fenrir Lokison?
#😨
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✨️ the-dashingest
I really don't think Loki is that bad. Sure, he's had a rocky history, but I don't think he's done anything worthy of scorn. Besides, hasn't he just died and come back or something like that, anyway? He has a blank slate, in my book.
#is it just me? #i hear people saying we should banish or kill him #i find that idea preposterous #he's just misunderstood
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einherjarl-deactivated20231120
I'm not going to @ them, but ugh... Someone I'm acquainted with just died in battle, and honestly? I'm so relieved. Is that terrible? Don't answer that, I know that it is. I'll probably delete this in a few hours.
🐍 magic-theatre
that's what you get for vagueing.
cowards don't go to valhalla.
10,560 notes
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shanastoryteller · 5 months
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happy halloween! i would love some more Lady Mo :D
a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50
Now that both Lan Zhan and Jiang Cheng are frozen in place and staring at him like idiots, Wei Wuxian takes a step back levels a stern look at them, hoping that neither of them can tell that he'd been crying. "If you're quite done? I should send both of you to bed without supper. What were you thinking?"
Jiang Cheng says nothing, instead just staring at her in a way that's honestly a little unnerving.
He rounds onto Lan Xichen to get away from it, "And you! Just standing by and watching! What are all of you thinking? We're in the middle of an inter-clan nighthunt and banquet! Not even the middle! It's just begun and you're causing trouble."
He's scolding someone for getting into a fight at an inoportune time. Something has gone terribly wrong.
Oh, right. He's pregnant with Lan Zhan's baby. He's pregnant with a baby that Lan Zhan doesn't want. Everything is terrible and wrong.
No, he can't think like that. It's not fair to Lan Zhan.
"Come back with me to Lotus Pier," Jiang Cheng says abruptly, still with that strange look on his face. "I told you to believe in Lan Wangji and he's made a liar out of me." Both Lan brothers look startled at that. Jin Guangyao even raises an eyebrow. "The Jiang will take care of you. Have the child, don't, it doesn't matter. I said you'd be safe and you will be."
Oh, Jiang Cheng.
His heart seizes. His honorable, idiotic little brother. He wishes he could go over there and ruffle his hair and kiss his cheeks. "It's alright, Jiang Cheng. It's - it's not a problem. If Wangji does not want the child, we will not have the child. It's fine."
He feels like he's going to throw up and he hasn't even eaten anything.
"What?"
He turns, confused, to Lan Zhan who's looking at him in confusion and horror.
Wei Wuxian's eyebrows dip together and he echoes, "What?"
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planet-dusk · 1 year
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minho + corruption kink !!!!!! (i probably said this already but is so lee know corruption)
- 😽
🏷️ f!reader, dubcon-ish, dad's best friend!minho, dom!minho, aged up minho (he's 40 and mc is 23), corruption (both), fingering, oral (m), mc is called sweetheart, doll
you’re off-limits. minho knows. you’re his friend's daughter; it’s an unspoken rule. it should’ve been unambiguous when said friend had trusted minho enough to ask him to pick you up from your girl’s night out after your car broke down. 
the ride to your apartment had been quiet, tension palpable in the air. but what would’ve been there to talk about? minho isn’t a fan of small talk, and he doesn’t know you that well. doesn’t even know what kind of music you like. what kind of movies. or if you prefer pizza over chinese takeout (it has to be chinese). 
you said you do but he doubts you remember him. he barely remembers you — and certainly not like this. he’d only seen you a handful of times before his return. you’d been so young back then. fuck, you still are. you’re what, 23 now? way too fucking young. he should know better.
it’d been a classic case of high school sweethearts coupled with an accidental pregnancy. minho recalls the long nights filled with his friend’s anxiety, slowly being replaced by naive happiness, and then he and your dad had gone their separate ways. 
for minho it’d been moving countries. for your dad it’d been starting a family. they’d stayed in touch throughout the years, on and off, and you’d been little more than a speck in his periphery. until he moved back. 
now he’s caging you against your kitchen wall and he prays your father won’t question why he’d been so eager to pick you up well past midnight. 
on a fucking tuesday. 
his hands slip underneath your shirt and you whimper into his mouth when his fingertips graze your nipples. they’re pebbling through your flimsy lace bra. 
“minho, w-what are you doing?” you push his shoulders, looking up at him with rounded eyes. 
minho wants to fucking ruin you.
“don’t play dumb right now,” he scoffs and tugs at your nipples, earning another moan from you. he knows you’re not stupid. you invited him in for a drink. you might as well have hung a neon sign asking him to fuck you. but there’s something about this innocent act of yours that drives him crazy.
why did you call your dad in the first place? don’t you have any friends who could’ve picked you up? your dad’s out of town and minho doesn’t want to think of what could’ve happened if he hadn’t been around. but it’s clear you’re daddy’s little girl; you’re spoiled rotten. he even bought you this apartment close to your family home. 
ever since he came back minho’s been hanging out at your father’s place nearly every weekend. first and foremost because he enjoys his friend’s company (he’s not that big of an asshole), but you’re a close second.
scratch that; you’re the main reason. you and those skimpy shorts you wear to the weekly barbeque. who the fuck has a weekly family tradition? minho loves his parents, but he’s fine seeing them once every few months at most. 
maybe it’s because he doesn’t have any kids himself. maybe that’s the reason why the voice inside his head is doing such a terrible job of stopping him from kissing his way down your neck. 
the sweet noises you’re making are even better than he imagined. he should’ve never gone back to this cursed town. should’ve stayed on the other fucking side of the globe where you’re not malleable and soft under his touch. 
“we shouldn’t be doing this, minho,” you protest. 
he ought to feel sick to his stomach about betraying his friend — your father — like this but all he feels is his cock throbbing in his pants. 
“shh, doll, no one has to know,” he presses his body closer and watches your eyes gloss over. oh, you like that. he likes that. he wants to discover all the ways he can make you cry on his cock.
“we’ll keep this between us,” he whispers and undoes the button on your jeans. you let him. “it’ll be our little secret. won’t that be fun?” 
his fingers find your clit and your answer turns into a sweet high-pitched whine. you’re so wet for him already. he was right.
“i see the way you look at me… wearing those pitiful things you call shorts just to toy with me. pathetic pieces of fabric haunt my dreams at night,” he chuckles dryly, “don’t think i don’t notice. two can play this game.” 
he kicks your legs apart with his foot and sinks a finger into your hole. you swallow a moan and hold onto his forearm, shaking your head. “i don’t play —”
“don’t lie to me, sweetheart. i know you want this. do you hear that?” he pumps his finger in and out of you, the wet sounds betraying your arousal, “that’s how much you want me.”
minho tries not to think of the other guys you’ve fucked in here. eager young boys you met at work or at the one (and only) bar in town. and now your eyes are begging him for more. he can’t help but feel lightheaded. this is a dangerous game. 
he retracts his hand and chuckles when your face falls at the loss. he brings it up to your lips, pupils blown wide as he watches you suck on his fingers. 
“pretty little thing,” he grabs a handful of your ass and grinds his hard cock into your core for some relief, “i’m going to fucking ruin you tonight. and you’re going to let me.” 
your answer is muffled around his fingers but your actions say enough. you’re unclasping his belt, wriggling your body out of his grasp and dropping onto your knees in front of him. 
minho kicks his head back with a groan when you kitten-lick the precum off his tip, eyes never leaving his face. he has to force himself to look down at you, watch how you take your time to map every vein and ridge with your tongue, content hums of approval falling from your lips. 
when your throat wraps around him and he has to pull out to stop himself from cumming too soon, your sly smile finally dawns on him. this wasn’t a simple mistake. but it’s too late to go back now. 
tonight won’t be the last time.
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ghosts-bandwagon · 1 year
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can we have a headcannon of y/n (female) thats throwing dark humour around everytime and have 141 + Rudy, Alejandro nd konig react to her lmao 🤣
Can we have that? 💜 Thank you
Girl. Literally me. (I give my coworkers whiplash but they dish it pretty good too lmao)
Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley:
Might actually get a decent laugh out of him, we’ve all heard his horrendous hilarious jokes, so we all know he can dish it, but can he take it? Depends on the type of humor
If it’s self-depreciating, probably not. Doesn’t really get it? Like he does but he sees you too positively for the humor to click.
Unalive jokes? Definitely not. Hates hearing it from you even if you’re laughing about it, so if you want to make them, you better be cheeky about it (“Head down, sergeant you’ll get spotted.” “Aw sweet, you think so?” You don’t have to be near him or even see him to feel his glare)
Jokes about your traumas? Not super keen on it but if you’re at a point in your life that you feel ok enough to laugh about it, he’s not one to take wind out of your sails (“Damn, this drink hits harder than my dad.” “Sweetheart. Please.”
But if your jokes are similar to his, then your chances of getting a laugh out of him went up exponentially (he thinks he’s so god damn funny and he’s right. king.)
“How do you turn a salad into a Cesar salad?”
“How?”
“Stab it 23 times.” Soap audibly groaned,
“That’s my girl.”
All in all, you’ll get a deep sigh with pinching the bridge of his nose for every joke you make, and maybe you’ll get a pretty laugh from him (god I bet his laugh is so nice 😭)
John ‘Soap’ MacTavish:
(laughs nervously) what the fuck?
He’s heard Ghost’s jokes firsthand, so the dark humor isn’t new to him. He might even laugh with you and crack a few of his own
Honestly, as long you’re having a laugh he’s not really that worried (still a little worried tho)
He trusts that if you’re feeling particularly bad about something, you’d talk to him about it and he’s here for that
He kind of enjoys the theatre of it, the dramatic reactions to something so seemingly mundane,
“So when are you gonna take me out?”
“To dinner? We just ate, bonnie.”
“… not what I meant but I love where your heads at.”
“Not in a million years.” He laughs kissing your temple and squeezing you against him
“So you’re saying there’s a chance? It’s just a matter of when, got it. Thanks babe, I owe you”
John Price:
He’s not thrilled about it but he’s worked with Ghost so he’s somewhat built a tolerance
He knows you sometimes use dark humor as a coping mechanism but he’ll tease you saying you should come with a warning label
He’s definitely choked at hearing some of the things come out of your mouth, at least the jokes relating to your own traumas, those always give him whiplash
He finds your situational dark humor much funnier than anything you might say that involves you being harmed, even if it is a joke that’s kind a nightmare scenario for him
Those will definitely get a chuckle out of him, just please stop making jokes about yourself, he loves you a little too much to stomach them
“What does my dad have in common with Nemo?” He refuses to answer, he knows, he fucking knows
“They both can’t be found.”
God damn it, sweetheart
Kyle ‘Gaz’ Gerrick:
He’ll join you for sure lmao
He’ll see you sparring on the mats with Soap and he sees you land a particularly rough kick that he managed to block
“Damn babe, that was clean. Now do it right here.” He’s pointing at his temple, you laugh and throw your sweaty towel at him
You’re out on recon and you’re making your way towards the targeted area,
“I’d be terrible if I was discovered, sure hope there aren’t any snipers to take me out. That’d be awful.”
Price groaned even as Kyle stifled a chuckle,
“Come on, love, we’re a bit too good to let that happen to you.”
“That’s the real tragedy, honestly.”
“Enough, you two.”
König:
He thinks you’re funny but low key a little worried at how easily the jokes come to you
But if you’re laughing and having a good time, then so is he!
Sometimes you really do say some crazy things and he doesn’t know whether to laugh or to hug you
He likes the jokes that have nothing to do with you much better, you’d be sitting at a briefing in the far corner when you lean in and whisper quietly,
“Köni, what’s red and bad for your teeth?”
“Hm?”
“A brick.”
He stifles a laugh and shakes his head, you can see the corners of his eyes crinkle as he tries to hide the smile.
Alejandro Vargas:
Honestly, he kind of gives me the vibe of “telling a joke becomes receiving a lecture”
Like you’ll make a joke and look at him and he’s deadpanned,
“Mi amor, that’s no laughing matter.” And then he goes into a full lecture about why what you said was out of pocket and a little hurtful
It’s not that he doesn’t understand the humor he’s just concerned
But, he prefers the goofier jokes I feel like,
“An apple a day keeps the doctor away, or at least it does if you throw it hard enough.”
“Mensa.” He pushes your shoulder playfully with a laugh.
Dumb jokes like that get a good laugh out of him, just don’t make them about you please he loves you so much and he will lecture you
Rodolfo Parra:
Mortified in Spanish
“Mi vida, please don’t make those jokes.”
They break his poor little heart :( he loves you so much it makes him sad to hear make such harsh jokes about yourself or even see such awful things
He sighs every time he hears one of your jokes and gives this look 🥺
He doesn’t like that you joke about yourself or the things that have happened to you like that
He understands that humor is sometimes a coping mechanism, but he’d much rather talk through the things you’re joking about
He just cares about you so god damn MUCH
But if they’re nonsensical, then he’ll chuckle quietly,
“You don’t need a parachute to go skydiving.”
“What? Amor you definitely-”
“You need a parachute to go skydiving twice.”
“Dios mío, amor.” He chuckles.
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ma1dita · 4 months
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heavy hitter
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part one can be found here!
this was a request, find it here!
words: 3.5k (yall im so sorry)
summary: james potter x beater!reader James might’ve won the game, but he needs to let people know he has the girl too.
warnings: smut. minors DNI. afab!reader, p in v, pwp, unprotected sex (wrap b4 u tap) locker room sex, creampie, oral (m!receiving) reader is a brat… this is nasty don’t look at me (jesus tagging this is crazy)
a/n: …. what plot? i wanted to write angst again but got bored so… *jazz hands* erm…. this is my first smut fic, i’ll go crawl in a hole now
(posted 12/19/23 not edited will return)
Hitting the shower was James’ chance of washing his anger away before seeing you again tonight. He always gave quidditch his 110% percent, but something animalistic rose out of him when he saw you get manhandled by Wilkins, his team keeper. And regardless of the Gryffindor win, he was planning to chew off his ear later, whether it be with extra laps at the next practice or a good ol’ fashioned wallop to the head. But this anger wasn’t due to a foul play, not even because you got hurt (your arm was clearly fine since you used it to swing your bat at Wilkins’ head after). What got James mad was the fact you ripped your jersey.
No, actually, it was definitely because of what happened after that.
He’s not the type of boyfriend to decline you showing a little extra skin, but any fantasy that entered his mind was quickly cleared away when he saw you re-emerge from the locker rooms wearing your teammate’s jersey. McGonagall said it would be the only way to let you play the rest of the game since there’s no magic allowed on the field, but ever the rulebreaker, James thought that was absolute bullshit.
He rinses the shampoo out of his mop of curls as he thinks about that tosser whose name he can’t even remember. The guy was way too eager to give you his jersey, flirting with you at practices and just not taking a hint. Everyone knew you’d been dating him for a while now, and of course, James knows you can handle yourself, but there are just some things he can’t let slide. Namely, assholes that can’t take a hint. Also, he was a benchwarmer at most. Cocky motherfucker.
Watching you fly around with some other guy’s last name on your back did terrible things to James’ ego. The blur of suds pool at his feet, circling down the drain as he takes a deep breath. He’s got it bad for you, but luckily you like him enough to call him yours.
The Gryffindor locker room was empty by now with everyone too eager to celebrate their win. It was his last year as team captain and at Hogwarts in general, so he should be right up there drinking with all of them, but James really needed to let off some steam.
“Babe?” Your voice calls from the doorway, echoing against the empty walls. Condensation drips off the door handle as you take a peek to see the one shower going in the corner. What was taking him so long? You saw the rest of the team leave without him and they were trying to drag you to celebrate with them, but with your boyfriend still drowning himself in the stall….
“Over here love,” he calls out, hearing your sandals clomp against the wet tile as you turn the corner.
“You almost done? We have a party to get to, Jamie.”
The falling water makes it a bit hard to hear you, so he pops his head out from behind the curtain and squints at your frame. You giggle and pull his chin closer for a few quick kisses.
“Is that your jersey?”
His lips feel so soft against yours as you get distracted, slipping your tongue into his mouth instead of giving him a proper answer. Godric you’re good at that. James’ wet hand quickly pushes the curtain open grabbing at your ass and tucking you against his naked body, soaking the front of you in the process. A muffled yelp escapes you as your body adjusts to the temperature and the feeling of his semi-hard dick against your front.
“No, coach still has mine and I have to return this to Steven after.” You say calmly, smiling against his cheek as he sucks at your neck. He would’ve enjoyed getting lost in the scent of your still-damp hair, but your statement makes him stop as he bites at your pulse point. A whimper leaves your mouth.
“Why the fuck are you still wearing whatshisname’s jersey?”
James’s hands trail up your back to feel the embroidered letters against your back, and he swears his eye twitches. The incredulous look on his face makes you hold back your laughter.
“Steven. You know him! Don’t tell me this is a big deal for you, baby. You know I couldn’t magically fix mine during the game…”
Your hands trace down his slippery biceps as he unconsciously ruts against your belly, cock now at full attention from rubbing up against you. Your nipples are pebbled up under the material of the jersey, soaked from your less-than-innocent embrace, and he lifts a hand to brush over them, making you groan.
“Definitely not. I wouldn’t get jealous of a prick like him…” He scoffs, hands going back down to fist the fabric over your hips, “Not a big deal at all.”
“Mhmmm… I’ve got a way to make it up to you, even if it’s not a big deal.” You muse, fingers reaching to tease his swollen head as James exhales harshly.
“I’d hope this is a big deal for you, baby. Would want nothing more,” he breathes, pushing your back against the wall.
“You just want me to say your dick is big.”
The both of you laugh before he tugs the jersey over your head, ripping it in the process.
“James!”
He shrugs, burrowing his head into your breasts and lapping at your right bud. You moan, shoving your shorts down past your ankles before pulling his hair away from your chest.
“Mmmm…fuck, babe. I’m supposed to be congratulating you right now!”
Your hands push at his torso slightly as you fall to your knees, placing yourself onto your sandals. Gentle hands graze his thighs, as he feels your nose bump into his cock. The water hits James’ back perfectly, and the sensation of your hand pumping and sliding along his length makes him almost feral, shutting his eyes in pleasure.
“You played so well today baby… deserve a reward, don’t you think?”
Your tongue slips out from behind your lips to lick the underside of his length, holding yourself there as you look up at him to answer. Droplets cascade down his pecs as he breathes heavily at the feeling, precum leaking from his cockhead. James hisses as you tap him against your tongue.
“Fuck, baby. Need your mouth right now.” He can feel you grin against his girth before his cock disappears into your mouth, hot and warm, and his instinct is to grab your hair. Goosebumps rise on the parts of him untouched by the shower. Your throat rumbles with a groan as you let him work himself down into your throat, the resistance waning as your jaw slackens. Cheeks hollowing, your lips retract with a pop.
“Like that, Jamie?” you say, reaching around to massage his balls as your tongue continues to play with the long vein that runs along the surface of his cock. It’s hard to fit all of him in your mouth, fingers barely able to wrap around it, much less the rest of you. His hand massages the part where your mouth hinges open, squeezing your cheeks around him as he fucks into you with a bated sigh.
“You always take me so well, baby. You can handle more, that’s it,” he pants, biting his lip as you concentrate real hard on letting him use you, the corners of your eyes watering. His heart is racing now as his hips piston to the noises that come gurgling from your throat and he almost slips before his reflexes help him catch the back of your head before it bangs into the stall wall. A loud moan sputters from around his cock as your eyes roll back, and the lack of oxygen makes you press your fingernails into his quads harshly.
He pulls out from between your lips, cradling your chin as the both of you catch your breath, coughing a little.
“You okay? Mouth so good I lost my footing.” All you can do is laugh hoarsely as he grins boyishly before you realize he’s not wearing his glasses.
“Can you even see me? S’bit cold down here, Mr. MVP.”
He pulls you up, strong hands lifting you at your armpits until you stand in front of him, reaching over to grab his glasses from the shower shelf. You slide them on as water sprays onto them slightly as he shifts, blinking at you in clearer vision.
“There’s my boy,” you whisper, cupping his jaw and slotting your lips between his once more. You could kiss James forever, all muscles and hard exterior, but everything else, his lips down to his insides feel and go soft for you. He groans lowly and it rumbles between the both of you, before the slick motions against your core remind you of something else that’s really hard right now.
“All for you,” he sighs, hands gripping onto your hips with a force that you think they’ll bruise tomorrow, and you love having physical reminders of him wherever you go. Huh, maybe he is jealous. And if not, he’s possessive. It makes your cunt pulse harder just thinking about it, your arousal helping his head slide nicely against your bundle of nerves and the softness of your stomach.
“I’m yours, you know that right?” Not replying, he instead inhales the sweat from your neck, following it with a dip of his tongue up towards your ear.
“James.”
Your boyfriend scoffs lightly, a small smirk on his face as he pulls your chin up to meet him at eye level. You’re so gorgeous like this, just letting him do what he wants to you. Always so reassuring of his needs. His thumb rubs against your bottom lip before you open your mouth and swirl your tongue around clean skin.
“Just feels like I have to remind you sometimes, pretty girl. Can’t let everyone walk around thinking you’re not mine.”
“I wouldn’t mind a reminder. Some marks would be nice too,” you grin, biting at his lip while your hands stroke him slowly, your own knees buckling in excitement.
“Yeah, you’d like that, wouldn’t you? Brat.” James hoists your legs over his hips, slamming your back into the wall as you squeak. Sandwiched between the warmth of his body and the cold of the shower wall, your eyes roll back as he eases his cock between your dripping folds, moans falling from your lips when he sinks into you, inch by inch.
His girth always has a way of stretching you open, and every time feels like the first as he taps at your thigh reminding you to take deep breaths. Fuck the party, you could stay here all night.
“Fill you up so nicely…we’re almost there, good girl.” His voice shakes, wanting to slam the rest of him straight into your cervix.
Your hands are gripping his shoulders until you finally feel him nudge the deepest parts of you, and you sigh when it all fits. Perfect.
“Always so big Jamie. Almost too much.” He kisses your cheek, hips starting to create a rhythm as he mutters into your ear.
“Not too much for my girl. Just perfect. Perfect pussy for this cock. All for you,” he grits, skin sliding and slapping as your thighs get pressed into your chest with the intense force he’s plunging into your guts.
“James, fuck….fuck you’re so deep! Feels so fucking good!” Filthy whimpers leave you and he loves the sound of your desperation when he’s inside of you like this. Too bad there’s no one else here to hear it. If Steven could only see you now.
“Such a good cunt for me to use. Only mine.”
He gasps for air as his feet slip against the tile once more, his heavy breathing fogging up his glasses, and his hold on you just as tight as your grip on his cock. Shit. His heart almost fell through his ass.
Your eyes open to see him struggling and a giggle escapes your mouth as you watch the stupid fucked out look on his face.
“How do people even fuck in the shower? This shit’s dangerous. Don't wanna maim the Gryffindor captain again.”
Your laughter sends jolts down to his throbbing shaft and he shakes his head with a smile, parting the curtain with one hand before carrying you still impaled on him towards the metal benches, placing you down softly.
“At least you finally admit it was your fault, baby. Could barely see straight for a week after.”
He wipes his glasses between his fingers before gazing at you lying across the bench, legs spread and ready for him. What a woman.
“And here I am hoping that when you’re done with me I won’t be able to walk for a week after,” you breathe, hands squeezing your tits as his pupils dilate further at the sight of you. What a fucking witch!
“Fucking hell, you know I love you, right?”
James positions himself over you, kissing your ankle as he sheathes himself back into your sex, resuming his brutal pace and hurtling you quickly towards your peak.
“Y-yes! Merlin, fuck I… looove you!” you wail, hips rolling to meet his and his balls strike your ass hard with each thrust. Your insides are being shifted around with him spearing your cervix like this and there’s nothing in this world that you could name that’s able to compare to how he makes you feel.
Your pussy contracts as he somehow nestles himself deeper, body trembling in this position as he throws your left leg over his shoulder, lips chasing your nipples trying to suck the life out of you, and perhaps that was his plan so you could forget anyone else but him.
“Don’t you dare fucking stop, James. Don’t you fucking DARE!” you beg, clawing your way down his back, making him nip at you in pleasure as you draw pinpricks of blood.
The tight pressure of release starts creeping at your core, making you squirm under him but he pins your waist down harder to the bench, the metal leaving prints against your flesh. His hands press harder on your stomach, silently encouraging you to cum and you can feel the imprint of his dick bulging from inside your stomach.
“Don’t struggle for me baby, just let it go. I know you wanna cum…. That’s it.” James praises in a shattered breath, watching you writhe underneath him as he holds you close. Your legs are shaking as your vision goes black for a moment, cunt gushing with release and squirt coats his pubic hair as your eyes roll to the back of your head.
You lay there, catching your breath as the stars clear from your vision, and you look up at him stroking himself to the sight of you coming undone.
“Sheesh, look at the mess you made. You okay?”
“More than okay, Jamie. Need you to finish the job,” you tease, toes grazing the skin of his hip and he slaps at your thigh with a smile.
“Insatiable minx. Turn around then, ass up f’me.”
You do as he says, getting on all fours and showing him the perfect round of your asscheeks, covered in milky residue from your recent orgasm, but you turn to look at him when he doesn’t come near.
“Babe?”
His locker clinks open as he pulls a fresh jersey out, walking back to you and guiding it over your head and arms as you smile, pecking his cheek. Your silly boy. There was no way you actually thought you hated him this time last year with how sweet he really is. His large hand grazes the embroidered patches now resting on your back, POTTER, in huge white letters, CAPTAIN, now resting at the base of your spine.
James’ eyes drift lower and he hums at the sight of you perched on the bench, dropping his face to your throbbing holes and taking a long swipe with the flat of his tongue as he savors your taste along with the sounds of your whining. From your swollen clit to the ring of your asshole he’s languishing in a flavor that’s so uniquely you, and he pulls back, smacking his lips.
“Scrumptious. How are you hotter with clothes on?” James grins, taking a playful bite of an asscheek before he slaps it lightly and stuffs you deep, without any further hesitation. Your sarcastic reply is lost in a moan that makes your toes curl.
He works you open onto his cock again, your back arching desperately to be as close as possible and his hand presses you down, sliding up your spine until his fingers curl around strands of your hair. Tits swinging until they’re crushed against the bench, your face is smooshed as you mumble pathetically in his grasp.
“What was that baby? Can’t hear you well…” He spits at you, and if anyone could see this they’d know he was enjoying the sight of you at his mercy. He grinds his shaft against your walls, ramming against your g-spot and you drool like a mindless plaything, greedy for his attention.
“Right…right fucking there, ohmygod!” His cock pummels your cunt deliciously, hands spreading your cheeks wide and the stretch is so good, perfectly stroking the need in your belly.
“You’re so needy, pretty girl. You love it like this, huh? Good thing I fuck you so well, right?”
Merlin, this boy can pull orgasms out of you as well as he plays quidditch. He’s the only person in the world you’d gladly submit and be this pathetically cockdrunk for. Good thing he's yours.
“Yes…yes! So good Jamie. No one can fuck me like you….”
The white-hot sensation digs at your insides as his fingers fall to your clit, rubbing at you just the way you like as shockwaves shake every crevice of your being. He's breathing over your neck, hot air puffing and elevating your senses before they shut down completely.
“Yeah? Then come on my cock again right now. Show me you like it that much. Now.”
Your arms give out, falling completely forward as your body jerks in searing pleasure, pussy fluttering around his cock once more, so intensely. Your hands flail behind you until they find his, and he's pulling you up against his hard chest as he bounces you onto his length and chases his high.
“Give it to me, please, please… I can take it!” You’re screaming now, at the intersection between pain and pleasure but wanting to make sure you can milk him for his efforts. James’ thrusts stagger as he leans his head on your shoulder, biting you as he cums hard.
“I know you can, baby. All yours…” he chokes out.
Thick white ropes coat your insides, wrapping you tight around him like a present until the excess seeps out to the base of his cock. You kiss his temple as James starts to regulate his breathing.
“Fuck. Fuck….” you drag out, the two of you more winded than you were playing the damn game.
“I still have to return Steven’s jersey,” you mumble, and James can’t do anything but smirk at the thought of the clueless boy standing outside your House's locker room while he fucked you senseless a few doors over. What a shame.
The two of you walk hand in hand into the Gryffindor common room to a crowd of students cheering for James. The party is well underway and many hands clap his now injured back, to which his grimaces make you bite back a laugh. Speaking of bites….
Sirius walks up to you with two cups of punch, wide grey eyes zeroed in on you wearing James’s jersey and the glaring red marks of your boyfriend’s teeth on your neck.
“Merlin. I thought you two would take time to celebrate on your own but did you fucking attack her?”
You both take the cups out of his hands, searing blushes on your faces and leave Sirius to his own imagination before James whispers in your ear that he’ll be gone for a moment.
“Okay, but hurry back, baby.”
A peck on the lips sends him on his way to walk straight towards that wanker–er, Steven with a shit-eating grin on his face.
“Potter! Have you seen–” the dumb boy says eagerly, before James cuts in, “Yeah, my girlfriend couldn’t meet you earlier, sorry mate.”
His hand digs into the undetectable extension charm in his knapsack, pulling out a soggy, ripped jersey.
“We were kind of busy, but you know how to fix that don’t you? You’ll need it to keep you warm on the bench for the rest of the season after all.”
It plops sadly onto the floor in front of the guy, and James looks at him, hazel eyes conveying what he knows he doesn’t have to remind him anymore.
“Thanks again! Appreciate you looking out for my girl.”
He walks away from Steven, who’s sputtering sad excuses and your eyes meet his as James finds you near the drinks table.
“What did you do?” You say with a lifted brow.
“Nothing, pretty girl. Just making known what’s mine.”
"you are pressing against me
like i press flowers
against the pages in my book.
you are kissing my neck
and it feels like the start of forever.
i want to touch you until my palms burn."
-amirae garcia
taglist (OPEN): @jsjcue
217 notes · View notes
queenimmadolla · 2 years
Text
𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐍𝐘 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 ─ 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝟖𝟗' (young parents!Eddie munson x fem!reader)
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masterlist • sequel
author notes: i should be working on my series, but every time i think about it’s timeline, i end up wanting to post about that specific thing, so here’s a little bit of eddie munson x fem!reader as the young parents i constantly think of them as. it’s gotten worse with all those eddie look alikes with babies pics going around. oh, and reader and eddie eloped on graduation night like i know we ALL would have done. Technically part of the CYM verse but can be read out of it. Can't put a read more thing because Tumblr won't let me, sorry. reader is 22 and Eddie is 23. **not mature** 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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* . *• + . * . * . *• + . * . * . *• + . * . * . *• + . * .
You were on the edge of a nap, not quite out of it but not quite present. An American Tail was playing in the background, but the noise grew further and further away from your subconscious. Until you felt a sudden blunt, rough jab against your closed eye. That definitely brought you back.
You groaned, a hand reaching up to press and rub against your eye as you heard a quiet chuckle from the right of you. Once the pain had subsided, you tried your hardest to glare at your husband. It was more of a squint than anything. He didn’t even attempt to hide his smirk from his place, sat man-spread on the couch with his arms over the top cushions. “I thought about stopping her, but she looked too cute concentrating like that.”
Your gaze shifted towards the culprit, curled up nearly on top of your side. Your daughter grinned at you, displaying her tiny little teeth. Staring up at you with her father’s big brown, Bambi like eyes, and a wild head of curls that looked to be a mix of both of her parents’, it was obvious she was unapologetic and satisfied with herself for abruptly coaxing you from what was promising to be a nice nap. You had been spread out on the floor in front of the tv, playing with your daughter whenever she grew bored of the cartoon displayed before her. Eddie had been tuning his guitar before she’d woken up from her nap, and had switched to simply observing you two. Eventually, the movie had gained her attention, and you had decided it was your turn for a nap but apparently not. “Penny, ow.” You frowned at her gently. You weren’t big on punishing her because she was a pretty good kid, but she’d just entered the terrible two’s and you were hoping to put off the terrible for as long as you could by encouraging her to recognize good and bad.
“Mama ow?” She repeated, voice full of innocence and surprise, because obviously your baby hadn’t intentionally meant to hurt you. Once you nodded, still faking a frown, she made a face of her own—you loved how expressive she was, definitely something she got from Eddie—and moved further up your body until she was eye level with you.
You could immediately tell what her intentions were, so your eye shut to prepare for the kiss she pressed to it. “Mwah! No ow!”
“Thank you, Penny!” You cooed, pressing kisses into her round, chubby little face. “Awe, my girls! Love it when they kiss and makeup.” Came your husband’s responding coo. You blew him a kiss from your place on the carpet, fingers stroking over Penny’s curls. “Thanks for no help.”
“Hey—I warned you she’d have me wrapped around her drool covered fingers. Besides, I couldn’t have got to her in time.” He made no move to join you on the ground, too taken with watching you interact with the literal proof of your love for each other.
Almost two whole years later, and he was still often left stupefied as he watched you with her, completely in love with how she was a perfect mixture of you both, so much that it was difficult for most people to decide on who she looked like most. If people saw her with just Eddie, she looked like his little twin, albeit with a little more saturation and curls much more voluminous than his, and if they saw her with you, she looked like your Mini Me, with a lower saturation.
That’s how Eddie saw her. You’d argue that her facial expressions imitated his, but all he saw was the same cute little nose crinkle that had been his doom when he’d first met you, peering up at him.
Penny had his eyes, there was no denying that. Now that he was a victim to your daughter’s puppy dog stare, he often liked to wonder about how much you had allowed him to get away with because of his own. His kid was using his own tricks against him.
“She’s a girl on a mission,” You muse, your attention returning to the two year old in question, but it wasn’t your attention she had wanted in the first place this time.
Penny’s stare was focused on the area of your body she’d previously been resting against. And then like a snake, she struck. She dove for your covered boob, mouthing at it so aggressively you couldn’t do anything but burst out laughing. Eddie quickly joined you, hand forming a fist to press against his mouth as he shook with it. Penny had been clingier than ever since you had slowly, but surely, started to ween her off your breasts; however, what with being a baby and all, she still lacked the impulse control to keep her desperation at bay. “Oh, yeah.” Eddie’s chest puffed out once you’d both calmed down, and you had caved to your daughter’s demands, lifting your shirt over your boob so she could nurse. Penny seemed so pleased with herself for amusing her daddy because she also couldn’t stop bobbing around while she was attached to you. “That’s my baby girl.” You rolled your eyes affectionally, turning your head to stare at him while she played more with your nipple than nursed. You were hoping if you stayed relax, she somehow wouldn’t remember she had teeth. “You know, this is all your fault. You’re always going on and on about how you were the main ingredient for her recipe, but I’m the one she gnaws on. It’s not fair.”
“I agree,” he snorted. “It should be me gnawing on your tit.”
“Eddie!”
“What?” He laughed out, his pretty eyes getting all squinty as he stayed fixated on you with a look no short of adoration slapped on his face. “It’s true! I can barely get to second base ‘cause she always leaves your nipples sore. I love her so much, and I’ll let her twist my nipples off,” Penny had decided that was what they were best for once she realized she couldn’t get anything from them like she could yours after a few misguided attempts, “when we’re cuddling before bedtime, but she refuses to share you. And all I get to do is sit back and watch her have fun.”
That wasn’t entirely the truth, while the green eyed monster did flare its head for about .1% of the time he spent watching you take care of her and nurse her, the other 99.9% felt absolutely primal. It was crude, but the reality of it was Penny had originally been a creampie, just with a surprise in it. You’d both been stunned when you learned you were pregnant, though he had suspected it due to a few subtle changes in your behavior. It wasn’t something you really panicked over, it was just that something was. . .well, it just was.
It also helped that all he wanted out of life was to be happy with you and by the grace of some God, you shared that desire. So, Penny had come to fruition. And just like when he’d met you, Eddie found himself discovering another thing he wasn’t sure how he had lived so long without. Fatherhood.
No gig, no high, nothing would ever compare to that immense pride, that absolute satisfaction that coursed through him as he watched you hold her tiny little body against your bare chest in that hospital room for the first time before she’d been whisked away to the NICU.
“She has been clingy,” You agreed, eyes glazing over as you recall the last time you and Eddie were able to completely ravage each other and not just fuck whenever you could. It had been like four days ago, but that was still too long. “But.”
Eddie’s head tilted, his stare darkening as he waited patiently for you to continue.
“But, but, but. Since she hasn’t had as many opportunities, I’m not all that sore and tired anymore.”
Eddie sprang up from his place on the couch, plucking Penny right off your boob. It was obvious even to him that she was just playing with it at that point, and it was time he had his turn. “C’mon, little bitty pretty one, Uncle Dustin and Uncle Steve want to babysit you for an unforeseeable amount of time today.”
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dangermousie · 5 months
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2023 End of Year Post - cdrama edition
Yes, we have a lot of December left, but I don't think anything else I want to check out will air before 2024 hits (it's cdrama so caveat is - you never know.)
This is only going to cover cdramas that aired in 2023; if I watched it but it was made in a different year, it's not on the list. This was a pretty good cdrama year, all in all.
DRAMAS WATCHED
(In order of liking from least to most as opposed to pure quality; I am including if I’ve seen enough to make up my mind; yes I realize that’s inaccurate, but that’s my list)
30 legend of twin flower - Not dignifying that drama with capital letters, as the only capital that should be associated with this is capital punishment - which is what watching this feels like.
29 Dominator of Martial Gods - sounds like a bdsm gay porn title. Would probably be better acted and written if it was.
28 Beauty of Resilience - you'd need a lot of said resilience to sit through this incoherent, barely acted mess. The thing that I remember the most other than my annoyance is all the jingly-jangly head gear on JJY. Perhaps they could have sold some of them and spent the money on a better script.
27 Divine Destiny - if you think you have too many brain cells and want to get rid of some, boy do I have a drama for you!
26 Wanru’s Journey - honestly it's probably tied with SEL - I mean it's worse but it has actors who are nowhere as well known and a fraction of SEL's budget. Still, this is a big fat nope. I will not say what I think of Aoi Rupeng's "acting" or I'd have to put money in the curse jar.
25 Snow Eagle Lord - Gulinazha's stone face, nonsense plot, terrible CGI. Take your pick as to why this is terrible.
24 Scent of Time - it was uneven but fun but then that ending was dumb enough to destroy the whole thing. Show me on the doll where common sense hurt you, makers!
23 Royal Rumors - Jeremy Tsui and Meng Ziyi are utterly wasted in this nothing trifle of a drama.
22 Legend of Anle - I had high expectations but alas. This is the drama version of color beige. There is nothing offensive about it but nothing good either. Mediocre actors are mediocre, good actors become mediocre, this is just a waste of our finite time on planet earth.
21 Romance on the Farm - it's not you, it's me in action. I can see why people would like this wholesome slice of farming family life, but it's tailored to trigger every one of my "nope" opinions.
20 Back from the Brink - if I were 12, it would be my favorite thing. I am not 12.
19 Journey of Chong Zi - objectively a terrible drama with plot holes the size of Mars and a leading lady whose face has apparently frozen when the wind changed. But I am a total sucker for the trope of upright shizun falling for his demonic disciple and going mental so here we are. Objectively, garbage, subjectively my precious!
18 Love you Seven Times - just call poor Ding Yuxi "Atlas," he carried this mess so hard.
17 Blooming Days - trashy dogblood harem fight fun throwback. It's not that great (and the fact that it was shredded doesn't help) but it's probably the last gasp of that genre for the foreseeable future, so I am grading on a curve.
16 The Starry Love - a fun fantasy where the secondary OTP stole the thunder but overall a really solid fantasy xianxia romance.
15 The Longest Promise - it could have been better - the secondaries were unbearable and there was too much of them and what they did with Alen Fang's character still gives me rage fits, but the main couple was impeccable and lovely and I rooted so hard for them.
14 Chang Feng Du/Destined - visually gorgeous, solidly acted, impeccable first half. Bland as hell second half. Win some, lose some.
13 Circle of Love - this drama is a nonsense trash heap on fire. After a typhoon hit it. It was also the most entertaining, addicting drama on this whole list.
12 Hidden Love - the sole modern on this list, this story has barely any plot but it made me care about the young, decent lovers so hard.
11 Choice Husband - starts out wacky, continues with angst and blood and happy ending. I loved it, but I've always had a soft spot for melo and schemers turning devoted.
10 Pledge of Allegiance - bromance, super solid acting, visuals, a really dark take on officials and the world. Insanely underrated.
9 Provoke - a truly fun Republican revenge and love tale, showing that short format can be wonderful.
8 Gone with the Rain - some of the secondary characters are rage-inducing (hi there, cardboard boy!) but the scheming, ruthless, vulgar FL is amazing and her slowburn with her age gap general who is delighted by her out-there-ness is great!
7 Wonderland of Love - Fei Wo Si Cun goes wholesome and the result is surprisingly entertaining. Battle couple, glorious visuals, a fast paced plot. It's the first Xu Kai drama I enjoyed in years (and he plays a rare cdrama ML it would be pretty neat to pair up with in rl.)
6 My Journey to You - that ending is infuriating (and I am OK with open endings if done properly) but what a visual feast, probably the most gloriously shot drama on this list, and that's a tough competition. Also it packs a hell of a lot of couples and familial and adversarial relationships into its slim running time; assassin lady won over by a gentle man is my favorite trope and so this is extra great.
5. Till the End of the Moon - the ending is a rage-inducing disaster for me, but this drama was the most incredibly emotionally intense, visually eye popping experience. It was deeply flawed but when it was amazing, it was like nothing else in its visuals, its characters and its narratives. It took insane risks; some paid off and some did not, but it was glorious.
4. Story of Kunning Palace - I don't often care for reverse harem stories but this one was such fun - the main OTP was glorious (strong FL, unhinged ML) but honestly everything about this was just so excellently done.
3. The Ingenious One - the most adult drama on this list. Smart protagonists, intelligent plot, emotions that felt true, this is a revenge and a mystery and found family and goes into so many directions you do not expect (Su Mengyu's PTSD after his first kill - that is something you never see in dramas, definitely not prolonged and profound - not like this.) If I was to say which drama was objectively the best on this list, as opposed to favorite, it would be this.
1 (tie) Lost You Forever 1 - this is an exquisite emotional jewel of a story about damaged people moving forward, with damage always present - their past informs their present and always will. The narrative about Xiao Yao and three very different men in her life makes me think that it's an equivalent of a neutron bomb going off right before the main narrative starts and now we are watching the survivors wander in the wreckage. This is very high fantasy setting but it's one of the most emotionally human narratives out there.
1 A Journey to Love - everything I ever wanted - assassins, ride or die adult OTP with genuine believable conflicts, great and complex secondaries, beautiful fights. Oh, and yeah Liu Shi Shi domming the hell out of every man in a ten mile radius, as she should.
FAVORITE DRAMA
It's a tie between Lost You Forever Part 1 and A Journey to Love. LYF1 is a bona fide art piece but it's only part 1 and who knows if part 2 will be any good (seeing the huge ep number cut, I have my doubts) and so it's incomplete. AJTL is an old school wuxia romance with incredibly competent, adult people in love and great cast of secondaries. I can't pick.
WORST DRAMA
romance of twin flower - this is a drama that should not exist. If I could hex everyone involved with it, I would. It's a terrible, stupid, shrill, badly acted drama to start with, but where it really is catapulted into stratosphere of horror is that is took my very favorite non-danmei web novel of all time, a smart and complicated tale with incredible protagonists and turned it into that barftastic abomination. Peng Xiao Ran kept making horrible drama after horrible drama but I kept giving her a chance because of Goodbye My Princess but after this disaster, I've had to accept GMP was a fluke and she is on my "if she's in it, I am out” list. Ding Yuxi is not that far yet (his performance in Seven Lifetimes was the one thing carrying that mess afloat) but he's on freaking thin ice. Anyway, I like to pretend this drama does not exist.
FAVORITE MALE CHARACTER
It was hard because there were so many I loved this year - Deng Wei's traumatized, gentle Seventeen from LYF1 (if someone told me I'd swoon and weep for a character played by Deng Wei, I'd have told them to examine their brains asap), Liu Yuning's incredibly capable, deadly, contained Ning Yuanzhou from AJTL, Zhang Linghe's unhinged Xie Wei from SoKP, Chen Xiao's schemer with a heart Yun Xiang from TIO.
But ultimately, it couldn't be anyone else but Luo Yunxi as Tantai Jin/Demon God/Ming Ye/Cang Jiumin in Till the End of the Moon. He was everything - a demon, a saint, a martyr, a monster, a tormented abuse victim, a savior, joyful, unhinged, smart, pitiable. It was the cdrama performance of the year for me. Luo Yunxi even in a mediocre role is impressive but in a complex (series of) role(s) designed for his strengths, he is a force of nature.
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FAVORITE FEMALE CHARACTER
Xiao Yao (Lost You Forever Part 1). Once again, there were runner ups - Bai Lu's smart a little evil FL in Kunning, the gloriously unhinged assassin domme Liu Shi Shi in AJTL, Esther Yu's assassin longing for a different life in MJTY etc etc etc. But Xiao Yao's damaged, difficult, very self-aware woman stole my heart. I was skeptical going in because I haven't enjoyed a Yang Zi performance in a long time, but she was the wounded beating soul of this incredible drama.
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NEEDS TO BE MURDERED
Where do we start? How about all of Seventeen's (LYF1) monster family? His brother, who tortured him for years physically and emotionally to such a degree his body is a horror map and his personality is permanently altered because "mommy liked you better." Psycho mother who created a situation where the kids were going to turn on each other and "let's get my grandson raped" grandma. Where is a well-placed meteorite when you need one.
FAVORITE SHIP
Xiao Yao/Seventeen, LYF1. Yes, a ship of characters played by Yang Zi and Deng Wei is my favorite. Leave me alone, I am on my tenth helping of crow already. They are both incredibly damaged, barely functioning survivors who find what they need in the other - he finds a savior and someone who sees him as a man and rebuilds himself around her and she finds someone who will always put her first and only, and subsume himself in her. Is it healthy? No. Does it make sense for them and is it making them slowly functional? Yes.
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Runner up: Ren Ruyi/Ning Yuanzhou, AJTL - two adults, so competent, so chemistry full. She has so much damage and so little normalcy but is so strong and he is oddly gentle (in between murders) and incredibly self-reflective. They are each other's mirrors and I love them.
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FAVORITE SECONDARY OTP
Su Mingyu/Ke Menglan, The Ingenious One - the idealistic merchant who wants to join jianghu until he sees its horrors firsthand and a slave entertainer who wants security but decides she wants him more. They are gorgeous and glorious and wholesome and I adore them.
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Runner up: Liu Gong Quan/Ming Zhu, The Ingenious One - that drama was a shippy gift, especially impressive considering it wasn't even romance-centric. He's the officer who has to bring down her treasonous father but loves her. Delicious.
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Another runner up is Chao Feng/Qian Kui, the angelic good girl and the scheming bad boy in The Starry Love. They stole the drama from the main OTP for me.
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NOTP
Scent of Time endgame. What the hell was even that. It made NO sense.
FAVORITE SCENE
So many good scenes this year - Tantai Jin taking apart Li Susu in prison in TTEOTM, the OTP fighting in perfect sync and insane rhythm in the gorge battle in AJTL, Chen Ruoxuan's character stopping the execution in Pledge, Yan Lin's coming of age in Kunning, the poison/antidote "gamble" in MJTY, Cang Xuan detoxing in LYF1. But I think ultimately, me being who I am, my favorite scene is Xiao Yao kissing Seventeen's damaged, scarred knee to show he is in no way inferior for her. AAAAA!
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In terms of pure jaw dropping visuals tho nothing will ever beat Ming Ye’s battle against the Devil God in TTEOTM.
BIGGEST CRUSH
Ning Yuanzhou, AJTL. He's sexy as hell (that height, that way he moves in battle) but he's also so incredibly competent, so adult, so self-reflective and so attracted to a woman for her strength. He also gets whumped on the reg. Anyway, my hormones are ready.
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BEST SCENE STEALER CHARACTER
Gong Yuanzhi (My Journey to You) - I loved the unhinged, brocon poison boy. He was everything. Also Yan Lin (Kunning) - talk about sunshine; I totally got why all these people felt they needed to save him.
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NEEDS A SEQUEL
My Journey to You - what the HELL was that ending?
NEEDS SCISSORS TAKEN TO IT
legend of twin flower - that is, stab it with scissors like it stabbed the novel until it's dead.
TOO MANY SCISSORS TAKEN TO IT
Till the End of the Moon - they clearly cut stuff to fit into the new regs about runtime and it made the last 1/5 rather abrupt. Gimme!
TROPE THAT NEEDS TO DIE
The emperor cannot be irredeemable. WTF, China, you are a communist country!
FAVORITE TROPE WE’VE SEEN A LOT OF
This is the year of a ML who yearns to be dommed by his FL. Long may it continue.
BIGGEST DISAPPOINTMENT
The Legend of Anle - the novel had a great plot, the cast were all actors I either enjoy a lot or somewhat and we got - whatever that soggy piece of wonderbread toast was.
BIGGEST GOOD SURPRISE
LYF1 - I only checked out to mock because nobody could explain the story to me and nobody in the cast did anything I like either ever or in years. And then I fell utterly and completely in love and had to eat so much delicious crow.
2023 DRAMAS I HAVEN’T SEEN THAT I MOST WANT TO WATCH
Ancient Love Song is the only one on that list. It looks really good, I just need to brace myself.
BEST NON-2023 DRAMA I’VE WATCHED IN 2023
The Imperial Doctoress - best slowburn and pining and glorious character development and adult leads.
MOST ANTICIPATED
Anticipating any nonaired cdrama is a mug's game but if they air, I will definitely check out all the Fox Matchmaker dramas, LYF2, JoL2 and The Last Immortal. If Prisoner of Beauty ever is allowed out of the vault (dubious), it goes on the list too.
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miraclewoozi · 10 months
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UNDER THE COLLAR. -l.sm
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your unlucky-in-love best friend goes on a date with someone who, by all accounts, should be his perfect person. so... how exactly do you end up being the one who tucks his sorry, drunk ass into bed?
pairing; lee seokmin x gn!reader.  (he calls reader pretty once but that is all<3) content; fluff / some mild angst towards the middle / pining / friends to… still friends but with some ~tension~ and a snuggle? w/c; 4.6k and a smidge. warnings; swearing, alcohol consumption (offscreen), drunkenness, some suggestiveness (MINORS DNI), reader has some hard thoughts, a bit of affectionate touching but nothing deliberately sexual? seok is needy and cuddly (and a terrible flirt). let me know if i've forgotten anything! note; this was originally gonna be part of a mini-series/multi-chap situation but!! i ended up hating the full thing and only being attached to like. two parts of it lol so here we are! there could potentially be a second part to this? if people want it? i don’t know yet! but this kinda just works as it’s own standalone thing anyway i think~ happy sunday <3
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The first text comes through just after you finally set your phone down on the bedside table. Your eyes are dry and have started to sting from a long evening staring at screens, your bones feel impossibly heavy, and you think maybe you’re settling down for a semi-decent night’s sleep when you hear the buzz of a notification. A buzz you initially plan to ignore. It can’t be anything that important: who would be trying to reach you at this time of night, anyway? 
You roll away from the device and snuggle down into your pillows, pulling the sleeves of your — his — jumper down over your palms and resting them just in front of your face. This particular garment stopped smelling like Seokmin after the second time it went through your washing machine, but there’s a familiarity in the slightly rough inner lining that makes you want to wear it to sleep in every night, forever. He never liked it when his hoodies were too new, too soft, leaving balls of fluff all over his t-shirts and vests; you don’t know when you started to feel the same way, but you’ve realised recently that you do.
Your eyes flutter closed and your body relaxes, head starting to feel fuzzy in that calm, white-noise, lovely way. You haven’t felt this tired and genuinely sleepy for… months. It’s bliss. 
And then your phone buzzes again. You squeeze your eyes tighter, determined not to lose this warm, comfortable feeling, but your phone vibrates and vibrates and vibrates and with an audible groan, you sit back up, reaching over to see what, exactly, is so damn important at 02:23 in the fucking morning.
Seokmin’s contact name flashes up on the lock screen and you see that there are seven unread messages from him in the space of the last 3 minutes. Instantly, your brows draw together: he’s seldom shied away from a double text, but you’ve never known him to pull a septuple, and you can’t feel but feel a little bit of dread in your stomach as you read through them. 
> seokmin: yn
> seokmin: ynnnnnn
> seokmin: i lied
> seokmin: i didmt go homr yet
> seokmin: can you come get mr
> seokmin: mr
> seokmin: m e
You shoot back a message instantly asking where he is, turning on your bedside lamp and already swinging your legs out from under the covers. You keep hold of your phone in one hand, waiting for it to buzz again to tell you he’s given you his location. With the other, you search for and pull on some sweatpants, sliding into a pair of sneakers. His replies come simultaneously too quickly, and entirely not fast enough.
> seokmin: u knkw the bar in town with the bear statiiue oitside
> seokmin: lol
> seokmin: do you think i ciuld beat thsi bear in s fight???
> y/n: christ. okay, wait inside for me. i’ll be there in 15. 
> y/n: also, no. you couldn’t. x
Your veins feel alive with adrenaline and worry as you grab your keys and head down the stairs to your car. The drive is quiet — you don’t even waste the few seconds it would take to plug into the AUX and pick a playlist, leaving it up to the radio to keep you company on the way. It doesn’t take too long: soon enough, you’re pulling up alongside the infamous bear statue to find your best friend sitting on the curb, propped up against the marble base.
“I thought I told you to wait inside?” you chide, rolling down the passenger side window so you can announce your arrival. It’s like he’s moving in slow-motion, or maybe your words just take an extra few seconds to reach him? Either way, he doesn’t lift his head until a silence has settled between you, and he doesn’t smile until his slightly glazed-over eyes land on your face.
“Y/n!” He cheers, lifting himself off the floor and staggering upright, pushing a hand through his hair. “Hi! Yeah, I know — but look, it was too hot in there. It was so hot. And I didn’t want you to wait-…” Hiccup. “To have to wait for me.” 
He slides into the passenger seat with a contented sigh, a mess of long limbs he can’t quite control, adjusting the vent in front of him so that the cold from your air-con breezes against his flushed cheeks. As he settles, you reach over him, pulling his seatbelt across his chest. 
“I was getting to that,” he whines, pouting his pretty lips at you, and you click the belt in place with a laugh. History tells you that when he’s drunk, Seokmin doesn’t always believe in the power of the seatbelt, among other things, so you think maybe you could be forgiven for not believing him this time.
“Okay, dumbass. Sure you were.”
He reaches down into the passenger footwell for your AUX cord, bumping his head on the dashboard and letting out an exaggerated hiss as he sits back upright. Nonetheless, he plugs his phone in and presses play on his own night-driving playlist, holding the device between both of his hands as you start off towards his place.
“So…” you prompt, because he’s staring blankly out the windscreen with a tiny smile on his lips and you’re concerned that maybe, this time, he has actually managed to drink himself stupid. He rolls his head over to look at you, and fond bliss is written into every line of his face. “What happened?”
He doesn’t say anything for a moment, still just… staring at you as you drive. Staring, even though every detail of you is committed to his memory already. Staring, even though he knows how your eyelashes flutter when you blink. Even though he knows how the muscles in your throat bob as you swallow the saliva on your tongue. Even though he’s sat in your passenger seat enough times to remember exactly how the late-night glow of the street-lamps overhead catch and illuminate the curve of your nose, how they highlight the point of your chin. He knows all this, but he can’t help himself. Staring is… indulgent. So, so indulgent. But he is pretty drunk and he can get away with it when you’re focused on the road — at least, that’s what he tells himself.  
When he does attempt to speak, just as you slow to a stop at a set of traffic lights, the sparkle in his gaze falters. He faces forward again, shoulders rising and slumping in a meek ‘I don’t know’.
“She was… perfect, I think,” he tries to explain, and you glance across to look at him; his lips are both non-existent, pulled between his teeth and he has worry lines creasing up his forehead. With the hand not holding the wheel, you reach over, pressing your fingertips to where his eyebrows have scrunched to try and get him to relax the muscles there. It sort of works, if only because he releases an involuntary breath of a laugh.
“Not perfect,” you gasp, dramatic and teasing even though it stings a little to hear him say that out loud. “I mean, that definitely explains why you were out drinking, alone, three hours after you told me you were heading home.” He turns his head fully away from you, now, letting your hand drop dangerously towards his lap. You pull it back to yourself before it collides with his jeans, clearing your throat. The traffic signal changes to green, and you drive ahead. “I’m kidding. Come on. Talk to me.”
“Doesn’t matter,” he says, despondent, crossing his arms over his chest. You’re not sure you’ve seen him acting like this since you were teenagers. It’s a strange twist away from your usual, very easy-going banter.
“Seok...” You try again. “I won’t stop for nuggets if you don’t tell me.” 
“Don’t stop, then.”
“Seokmin…”
“Don’t-…” It comes out quickly, the vein in the side of his neck popping until he takes a deep breath in and releases it slowly. “Y/n. I’m tired, I just-… I don’t wanna talk about it. Can you please just… take me home?”
He’s still struggling with his words, but he isn’t abrasive in the way he speaks; that’s something you learned about Seokmin very early on in your friendship. He doesn’t raise his voice at you. He doesn’t get deep and gravelly when he’s pissed off. He just… seems to let himself feel things super intensely for a few seconds at a time and then he short-circuits, goes flat. It might be convenient for him, but it gets frustrating for you. Especially when he encourages you to open up to him as much as he does. 
His head is bowed and cradled in his hands when you pull up outside his apartment block, and you unfasten his seatbelt for him which jolts him upright. You stay facing front, though, guilt coursing through your veins at the thought of maybe having pushed him too far. You just want to understand. Why was his date being good such a bad thing?
“I’m sorry,” he mumbles, rubbing his eyes with his fingertips. “I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that.” 
You shake your head. “Don’t be,” you tell him, and he scoffs, but quietly.
“Y/n,” he sighs, his crown falling against the headrest; he reaches over to you, places a hand just above your knee, and you try to ignore how it feels like someone has crashed their car into you from behind. How your heart lurches forwards in your chest. How your adrenaline spikes.
“I mean it. I shouldn’t have kept pushing. I’m sorry.”
He chews this over for a moment, but he doesn’t remove his hand, and you find that maybe you don’t want him to. Not yet, at least.
“Will you help me get up the stairs?”
“Of course I will.”
With one of his arms over your shoulders, your own supporting his waist, the pair of you begin the obnoxiously long ascent up through his building to his apartment. He’s lived here for a year and a half, and you think maybe the elevator has been working… for a total of about a week, since then? God forbid he ever got injured and couldn’t climb six flights just to get himself home. The climb is bad enough as is.
Somewhere around landing number four, Seokmin pulls away from you, mumbling something about having the spins and needing to sit down. You ease him to perch on one of the windowsills, sitting down next to him with your arm still around his hips to keep him balanced on the narrow ledge.
“You should’ve taken me back to your place,” he grumbles, doubling over with his elbows against his knees and his fingers linked behind his neck, taking deep breaths.
“Get your feet flat on the floor. Look at your shoelaces. Breathe slow. It’ll help,” you coo, and he shuffles a little so that he can do exactly that (not without wobbling and almost landing on his face, and he thanks you and your “super strong arms” for keeping him from such a fate). After a few more seconds of deep breathing and grounding, he lifts his head. Crisis averted.
“Are you-… like, a witch, or something?” he asks out of nowhere, and you snort so loudly that your throat hurts. He keeps staring at you, waiting for you to answer. Apparently your laugh wasn’t response enough.
“What are you talking about, Seok?” 
He rolls his eyes at you, as if you should just know. “How did you know how to fix me? It’s like magic.”
“Because I know you, stupid. Come on. Two more flights and I’ll get you into bed.”
“S’that a promise?” he asks, grinning to himself as you haul him back to standing, and he stumbles slightly against you, hands braced on your ribs. Sweating a little, you manoeuvre yourself away from him, landing a gentle, playful hit to his side. 
It doesn’t make your heart flutter, hearing what can only be a drunk rendition of his bedroom voice. It doesn’t. It doesn’t. It doesn’t.
“Save it for your next date with Ms. Perfect, would you?”
“Agh. You’re the worst.”
“I know. Now come on.”
After a few minutes of fumbling through Seokmin’s pockets yourself for his keys (it’s as if he’s forgotten how both hands and pockets work in his now very giggly stupor), apparently brushing every single one of his ticklish spots on the way, you’re inside his apartment and on your knees, untying his shoes for him, easing them off his feet. You don’t think he can be trusted to lean down to do it on his own without breaking something.
Or himself.
“If you go get ready for bed, I’ll bring you some water?” you suggest, sitting back on your heels, smiling up at him. There’s a weight in the gaze he’s looking down at you with, in the way his tongue darts out over his lips, and how his mouth doesn’t fully close after. You tell yourself he’s definitely only looking at you like this because he’s drunk, because you’re helping him — the boy doesn’t know ass from elbow, right now — but there’s no escaping the fact that your stomach drops a little at his intensity.
“Okay,” he strains after a moment, and you stand up and away from him, kicking off your own shoes. He heads in one direction towards his bedroom, and you move in the other towards his kitchen. 
Stop it, you tell yourself, leaning over the sink and splashing cold water from the faucet onto your face. Stop thinking about him like that. He’s your best friend. Stop it.
But… shit, you can’t get those big brown eyes out of your head. The way he looked down at you, the softness of his brows, the heat radiating off him. There’s nothing you can do to stop the way your thighs press together standing in his kitchen, in clothes that— you realise now— are entirely his. The hoodie. The sweatpants you pulled on. They’re an old pair that he let you steal just after your most recent breakup, when you’d stayed on his couch for a week straight just so you didn���t have to look at how ugly and empty your own apartment was. Everything. Even down to the socks.
You thought it was hard enough hearing that he was going out for dinner to your favourite restaurant with someone who wasn’t you; nothing could have prepared you for standing in his kitchen at three in the morning, hot under the collar over five seconds of tipsy eye contact, knowing he’s getting undressed behind the door you’ve been staring at for… minutes, now. Actual minutes. 
Oh, you think, feeling your blood run cold. 
Oh. 
I want him.
More minutes pass as you stew in this information — in the knowledge that you’re fucking desperate for the man who has been there for you through everything important enough to remember, and probably everything you’ve forgotten, too. The boy who took you to all of your school dances and was the perfect date, the perfect gentleman, the perfect partner. The man who has sat next to you in the doctor’s waiting room more times than you can count, waiting for results and sitting outside appointments that he told you that you were brave enough to book. Seokmin, who has been under your nose this entire fucking time — you want him, the man who went for dinner with his dream woman, today, and he said she was perfect. Acid burns the back of your throat as you fight not to run all the way back down to your car.
Fuck. It gets astronomically worse. I love him.
“Y/n?” you hear, and his whiny, gentle voice glides across the apartment like it’s been mounted on a cloud, blown straight into your ears. It floats around in your brain in the most beautiful way, and you think there could be love-hearts in the reflections on your eyes even despite the stress you’re now under. It occurs to you that his faucet is still running, and you still have two empty glasses sitting on the counter. How long has it been? Get it together. 
“Just a second,” you call back. Your voice breaks as you say it and you can hear him fucking giggle from behind the ajar door to his bedroom. The fluttering in your stomach worsens, and by the time you’ve shut off the tap and you’re walking through to him, you’re wondering if it’s possible for people to grow butterfly gardens inside themselves without noticing. No-one has ever made you feel this nervous, before. 
Breathe, you tell yourself as he comes into view, already snuggled down against his pillows with the top of his bare chest and shoulders visible in the low light. 
Fuck. 
This is the last thing you needed.
“Hi,” he greets you, pushing to sit up with eyes softer than the glow of the setting sun. “I missed you.” 
You stand corrected. That is. 
“You’re such a loser.”
You set his glass down on his bedside and crouch next to him. “Did you brush your teeth?” you ask, and his face transforms from a stupid childish pout at being teased to a devastatingly bright grin. 
This running joke you’ve shared between yourselves since your first night on the town together illuminates him, and he nods, proudly, his hair falling down over his face. You reach up to push a few strands away from his eyes, despite yourself.
“Sure did,” he tells you, and you believe him but you raise a brow anyway. He’s so pretty. With his playful smile, tongue held between his teeth, his nose a little scrunched. Fuck, how can anyone be so pretty?
“So if I go check your toothbrush, right now…” His smile turns into a laugh, his head lifts into your lingering touch until his cheek is fully rested in the palm of your hand. Stupidly, you tell yourself that this could mean something. Maybe he wants to feel you more.  
“You could find out another way,” he says, his voice dropping half an octave as his already heavy eyelids blink slowly at you. It’s a good thing you’re already on your knees because that tone could have you sinking to the ground in a split. He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth fleetingly and you think you’re one more line away from melting into the floorboards. 
“You’re so out of it,” you murmur, shaking your head at him. “Did she make you get the oysters? Are you high on aphrodisiacs right now?”
He groans again and rolls onto his back, a hand dramatically coming up to cover his eyes. 
“Stop talking about her,” he whines. “I’m with you. I don’t wanna talk— I don’t wanna think about her right now.”
“Seokmin-…”
“Y/n,” he interrupts, lolling his head to the side, looking at you through impossibly long, dark lashes from between his fingers. “Please.”
You’re not sure what the pull in his voice is in aid of but you force yourself to let it go, pushing yourself up to your feet before you can fall forwards into him.
“I’m gonna head home,” you say, the quiet between you laying thick and heavy against your skin. “Text me when you’re awake tomorrow, okay?”
He contemplates this for a second, frowning; he doesn’t say anything as you start backing towards his bedroom door. Then…
“Please don’t.”
He says it so quietly. So hushed, you think you might have misheard. So delicate, you hold your breath just in case you somehow manage to shatter the moment. 
“Don’t what?” You ask, stopping in your tracks. He breathes deep and props up on one elbow, biting the inside of his cheek.
“Don’t go.”
Glued to the spot, you stare at him. You feel your head tilt to the side without really controlling it, and an eyebrow creeps up your forehead, slowly. 
“I left some lights on in my apartment,” you say feebly, and even though it’s true, a selfish part of you hopes that he’ll still keep trying to talk you around. It won’t take a lot to convince you. It never does. 
“So?” he asks, the duvet slipping just a little further down his upper half, baring more of his chest to you. “Please. I don’t want to be-…”
You swallow, waiting. The cogs in his inebriated brain are surely rotating at a few hundred miles a minute, his eyes almost desperate. Certainly glossy. Absolutely breath-taking.
“I don’t want to be alone anymore.”
Your already fragile resolve snaps under the pressure of his words and you’re moving towards his bed before you can stop yourself. 
“I don’t have anything to sleep in,” you say, offering him one last out if he wants it, but Seokmin just shrugs and peels the duvet back for you to slip in beside him.
“Don’t care,” he mumbles, and you gesture for him to look away so, at the very least, you can shimmy out of his sweatpants. He does, and you do — a few seconds later, with the garment in question folded neatly on the floor by his bed, you’re pulling the sheets over your legs and burying down against his cushions.
His breathing matches yours inhale for exhale and the more you let yourself think about this, the worse you feel even though maybe you shouldn’t. How many times have you drunkenly shared Seokmin’s bed, or how many times has he shared yours? This isn’t new. Even sober, you’ve been curling up together on the couch to watch movies and sleeping with your heads in each other's laps for years. There’s no reason for the guilt that’s burrowing its way deep into your brain, but you can’t seem to get rid of it, no matter how hard you try.
“Y/n?” he asks after a few minutes of you lying stiff as a pair of boards, a few inches of cold mattress between your wide awake selves, both of you staring up at the ceiling. You hum an acknowledgement, and he clears his throat. “Can I hug you?”
Your heart does something you’re a little bit afraid of, but you nod in the dark anyway, before you realise he can’t really see you now all the lights are off.
“Drink some water first,” you tell him lightly. “Then you can.”
There’s something undeniably nerve-wracking about the sound of him obediently swallowing a few mouthfuls from the glass you brought him earlier, even more-so in the way he sets it back down on his dresser. The bed rustles a little as he moves towards you, the sheets shifting over your bare legs, and then he’s got an arm slung over your waist, his head is on the very edge of his pillow, right next to your own… he slides a leg over one of yours, slotting it between your calves, and before you know it, you’re completely wrapped up in him.
He’s warm, and soft, and his fingertips gently soothe circles into your waist where they’ve slipped just underneath the hem of the sweatshirt you’re still wearing. You hum gently, moving your arm so that it snakes beneath his neck, curling up to wrap around his shoulders. This close, you can smell the cologne he will have put on before meeting his date. It makes you dizzy, slows down the neurons firing away in your brain. You wonder what’s going through his own head — what he’s thinking about, being curled up against your side like this. Does he recognise the slight stuttering in your breathing? How cold you are in contrast to him? Will he even remember this, in the morning? Or will you just wake up on opposite sides of the bed tomorrow, all this just a weird, foggy memory in the dark?
His head burrows slightly closer to you and all of a sudden, you can feel him breathing. Every exhale fans against your neck, right where it feels sweetest; Seokmin breathes through his nose when he’s sober, but through his lips when he’s drunk. You’ve never noticed before. It’s maddening. 
“Comfy?” you ask, your voice dry and unsure, and he wriggles a little with a nod to affirm that yes, he is. Something about that makes your cheeks go hot.
“Always sleep better with you,” he murmurs, and your face grows even warmer. You tell yourself he doesn’t mean anything by it. He’s just drunk. It doesn’t help.
“Then sleep,” you say as his hand moves just slightly further up beneath the hoodie, the tips of his fingers gently tickling your lowest rib. You have to fight back a whine. “I’m here. You can sleep.”
“Thank you, y/n,” he breathes, and you turn your head: now your eyes have adjusted to the low light, you can sort of make out his features, so very close to you. This proves to be a mistake almost instantly, but you can’t look away. His eyes are closed now; you’re glad. He looks too sweet. Too peaceful.
“What for?”
“Everything.”
“Seokmin…”
“No, I mean — everything.”
You move your hand up slightly, fingers playing with the strands of his hair at the top of his neck, and he whimpers softly at the touch. You freeze, and he nuzzles back against your hand to beg you to keep going, so you do.
“You can’t thank me for everything,” you tease him, and he chuckles breathlessly, his palm now laying flat across your rib cage, curling around your side. Holding you. Claiming you, just for now.
“Can,” he protests, and you shake your head. 
“Nuh-uh. Against the rules.”
“What rules?”
“My rules.”
“I didn’t know you had rules.”
“I’ve got hundreds,” you tease, threading your fingers through his strands and gently massaging his scalp. Another whine from him, but you don’t stop. Especially not when he hugs you closer, arm and leg both tightening around you.
“Hundreds?”
“Mhm. Maybe even thousands.”
“Well. Fuck.”
You breathe a laugh at him, and he laughs back; within a few seconds, you’ve both dissolved into giggles, and Seokmin has squirmed even closer until he’s half-covering you, actively chortling into your covered collarbone.
“You’re s’posed to be getting to sleep,” you sigh as his own laughter picks back up following a few seconds of deep breathing and quiet.
“I can’t!” He says. You can feel the pout in his own voice, even with his face hidden. When did he end up practically on top of you? When did your arm slip down to around his waist? 
“You have to. You’re gonna feel so shitty tomorrow if you don’t.”
“I know. M’probably gonna feel shitty anyway, though.”
“Come on. Close your eyes. Count back from a hundred. You can do it.”
It falls silent again, and you delusionally tell yourself that maybe it’s working. Until…
“Can you lie on your side?” He asks, and you sigh dramatically but nod anyway: as he peels himself off you, you roll over, facing the wall in the foetal position. He’s right back against you in a blink though, legs tucked up behind yours, trying to find your hand under the quilt.
“S’this okay?” He asks as he accidentally brushes your thigh in his search, fingers lacing through your own when he finally succeeds. Your now joined hands work their way into the hoodie’s front pocket, and everything starts buzzing when he rests his chin on your shoulder.
“Y-yeah,” you swallow. “S’good.”
“Good,” he mumbles. A few deep breaths later, his voice rumbles against your earlobe again. “You looked so pretty for me tonight, y/n. Dressed up in my clothes — you’re so pretty.”
“Go to sleep,” you whimper, grateful at least that at this angle that he doesn’t see how your face scrunches up, how wide your smile is, how ridiculously good he makes you feel.
Euphoria. This is euphoria; you never want it to end.
“Count for me,” he asks, dropping his head down so his brows rest against your back, now. So you do.
“A hundred… ninety nine… ninety eight… ninety seven…”
His breathing is slow and his grip on your hand is slack by the time you reach eighty three. You doze off too, not very far behind.
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thank u for reading all the way to the end!! likes, reblogs, comments + feedback are all always appreciated<3
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starsandhughes · 9 months
Text
Penalty Box Series— Lake House Shenanigans Edition
22/23 SERIES MASTERLIST
yourusername
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liked by trevorzegras, _alexturcotte, and 10,346 others
yourusername the hughes & co annual lake house week summarized:
- i pushed trevor into the lake 17 teams and he only did it 16 times
- I WON THE CHEL TOURNAMENT! suck it boys <3 (cole got second place)
-our annual twister game is not pictured, but trust that no one died
- z-baby is back in his bucket hat era and i’m so obsessed with him! my fiancé is so fiiinnnneeeee
- i did not get sunburnt out on the boat (jacky boy and turcs did) so i’m obviously a god
- z and i forced everyone to listen to us do karaoke to taylor swift songs (they loved it)
- lukey lost sorry 5 times (we played 5 times)
- sorry as a drinking game is an 11/10 i highly recommend
- i was nice and didn’t force everyone to watch the hunger games series and it was terrible
- quinn dropped me after throwing over his shoulder (see slide 9) and i have a giant bruise on my leg (i’ve named it jerry)
the hughes & co. annual lake house week summarized in a poem: “i’m so happily in crazy with you” ~atticus
tagged trevorzegras, jackhughes, _quinnhughes, lhughes_06, _alexturcotte, and colecaufield
view all comments
trevorzegras oh you and your poems… i love you, forever, my fiiinnnneeeee fiancée 🧡
yourusername i love you, always, loser🧡
trevorzegras that was uncalled for
yourusername you should’ve thought about that before losing everything?
trevorzegras i let you win!
jackhughes @/trevorzegras maybe at the pushing in the lake contest, but not chel
_alexturcotte @/trevorzegras you were out round 1
trevorzegras @/jackhughes @_alexturcotte she practiced with jimmy all season!
jamie.drysdale @/trevorzegras don’t blame me for you sucking
trevorzegras i quit
yourusername @/trevorzegras cry baby
trevorzegras @/yourusername your cry baby?
yourusername @/trevorzegras i mean i guess
user77 i would’ve killed to be a fly on the wall
_quinnhughes why on earth would you name your bruise?
yourusername it was a gift
_quinnhughes it was an accident!
yourusername @/colecaufield quintin said he doesn’t love me anymore so congrats you’re best friend number one!
_quinnhughes i didn’t say that!
colecaufield @_quinnhughes too little too late
jackhughes @/yourusername why am i not in the running for best friend?
_quinnhughes @/jackhughes because she hates you and i love her
yourusername @_quinnhughes TOO LITTLE TOO LATE
yourusername @/jackhughes you remind me of a muddy rock <3
lhughes_06 @/yourusername don’t worry i still love you
yourusername @/lhughes_06 and this is why you’re my favorite! i love you, lukey moosey!
jamie.drysdale stop having fun without me
yourusername stop having other friends
jamie.drysdale no
yourusername then i will continue to do so! i still love you!
jamie.drysdale i mean i guess i love you, too
yourusername you guess?! i should be your sun, your moon, and all your stars!
jamie.drysdale you’re definitely my something
yourusername i’ll take it <3
jackhughes @/yourusername if i said this you’d tell on me and ridicule me
yourusername @/jackhughes that’s because i hate you🥰
user4 let’s play “who’s sissy’s least favorite hughes?”
yourusername it’s still quinn?? idk why we keep playing this game
user20 they’re throwing money at her😭 idol status
_alexturcotte “our annual twister game is not pictured, but trust that no one died” you fell face first into the coffee table and have a bruise on your forehead
yourusername but did i die?
_alexturcotte no…?
yourusername didn’t think so #invincible
_quinnhughes @/yourusername did you name your forehead bruise?
yourusername @_quinnhughes no? that one wasn’t a gift! what part of this do you not understand?
_quinnhughes @/yourusername all of it
_alexturcotte @_quinnhughes do you even love her?!
yourusername @_quinnhughes yeah! do you?
_quinnhughes @/yourusername OF COURSE I LOVE YOU
yourusername @_quinnhughes somebody needs a nap
_quinnhughes i quit
trevorzegras @_quinnhughes welcome to the club
user17 oh how i’ve missed this chaos
user99 your posts help fill the offseason void
lhughes_06 “my hand is on yellow, you personification of a semi-colon” is hands down my favorite sissysult
_quinnhughes one of the most entertaining things i’ve been called
jackhughes i liked “stop acting like a pissed on snow cone” (also to quinn)
colecaufield you’re all wrong the best sissysult was “go change, you look like a minecraft creeper rubber duck”
trevorzegras @/colecaufield that’s because you weren’t called a minecraft creeper rubber duck
yourusername @/trevorzegras think about that the next you wear all green
trevorzegras @/yourusername you’re mean
_quinnhughes @/trevorzegras personally, i think she should be meaner
colecaufield we’re playing a rematch when we play the ducks next season
yourusername over my dead body
colecaufield i could arrange that
yourusername @/jamie.drysdale you wouldn’t let him kill me, right?
jamie.drysdale @/yourusername i’ll protect you, ex-wife!
yourusername @/jamie.drysdale this is why you’re my favorite ex-husband <3
jackhughes @/colecaufield i’ll help kill her
yourusername @/jackhughes i know your weakness, least favorite ex-husband/muddy rock
jackhughes @/yourusername and that is?
yourusername @/jackhughes me.
lhughes_06 @/jackhughes she’s got you there
jackhughes @_quinnhughes @/trevorzegras i’m joining your club
user9 maybe i don’t want to be a fly on the wall… that sounds terrifying
jackhughes if you have ever been bullied or physically attacked by sissy soon-to-be-rowden soon-to-be-zegras, you may be entitled to compensation. dial 442-839-6876
trevorzegras that’s a good one
_alexturcotte 🔥
yourusername i hate you sm too damn
jackhughes @/yourusername can we truce now? for the week?
yourusername @/jackhughes FINE. i love you, soulmate
jackhughes @/yourusername i love you, too, sissy
408 notes · View notes
wannaeatramyeon · 10 months
Note
Can we get lookism boys seeing their s/o for the first time?
Literally love at first sight and maybe their reactions?
Thanks,
Thanks for the ask! I've written a few slightly more fleshed out 'Meeting for the First Time' listed here (Gun, Goo, Jake, Johan). But let's do some other scenario for my usual suspects.
Umm...I actually really dislike the love at first sight trope. But I do like the double-take at first meeting trope, yknow what I'm saying? Here's a mix of everything!
Love at First Sight Double-Take at First-ish Meeting: Gun, Goo, Jake, Sammy, Vin + Taehoon!
Gun Park - Ultra Instinct
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Gun is not ashamed to admit that it was the sashay of your hips that turned his head at first. He is a hot blooded male after all.
And then when you whirled around, asking "See something you like?"with a confident smirk and your own jet-black eyes staring back, moments before landing a throat punch.
Well. Gun is a goner. Head over heels, lying-awake-thinking-of-you obsessed.
Maybe he should have gotten a name. But two UI users meeting each other can't just be a coincidence, he must be destined to see you again.
Who would have thought Gun Park would believe in something as ridiculous as fate.
.
.
Goo Kim - Reflection
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Goo detested you on first meeting. How can such a pretty face have so much venom.
All double-edged and saccharine, nothing to be taken at face value. You even had the audacity to ask if the weapon wielding was compensating for something.
And to add insult to injury, Gun had laughed. Goo didn't even realise Gun was capable of such emotion.
Ugh. Goo does not like having a taste of his own medicine.
As the day dragged on, Goo's obsession grew. It really was like looking into a mirror. Sure this reflection isn't as sexy as his usual. But. It's still pretty sexy nonetheless.
Huh, he wanders the corridors with a sly grin, wondering about you, Let's see how well you can keep up with me.
.
.
Jake Kim - Business Unit for Rent
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Jake, for some bizarre reason relegated to realtor duties, shows you around the business unit. A long empty store that, fingers crossed, after today would no longer be a drain on the finances.
"All this can be yours for 2 million won a month," he flashes his most dazzling smile. Charming and toothy that he knows few could resist.
Unfortunately, it is completely missed by you as you continue casting an astute eye over the premises.
"Ah look at the state of this. The ventilation system is awful."
Jake blinks, looking at whatever the hell you're pointing at. "It is?"
"And the walls! It'll need plastering and floors completely redone."
"Um. Maybe it has been a while since-"
"I heard the footfall is terrible here. Constantly declining. 23% down on last year?"
Your sharp eyes peer into his and he freezes. Where the hell did you even get those stats? Not even Lua or Jason would know this.
"Well..." he scratches the back of his head, thinking of what to say.
Half an hour later, after a whirlwind of complaints and pointing out flaws, you've signed a 12 month contract for less than half the initial asking price.
Shit, Jake thinks, Jason is going to kill me. Actually... Fuck. This unit had been recently renovated to attract potential renters. And footfall figures? Must be plucked out of thin air.
You completely twisted his arm with your bullshit.
Jake can't even bring himself to be mad, he's impressed. Who the hell are you? He's looking forward to seeing more of you and your smart mouth.
.
.
Samuel Seo - Tattoos (let's ignore the timelines here)
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Not many people pass Samuel's exacting standard on first meeting, but you do He's frankly impressed with your work.
Someone similar to his age yet already amassing an impressive portfolio with impeccable linework and pristine colouring. No wonder you're booked out for months.
"So," your hands graze over his pecs, all strictly business yet his skin prickles at your touch. "You're thinking of your first tattoo here?"
"Yes."
"Cool, and you want it to eventually be a Sak Yant full body?" He nods. "Ok, it's going to take a while and quite a few sessions."
You give him a smile that leaves his throat dry. "Guess we're going to see a lot of each other."
.
.
Vin Jin - My name
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Vin holds out his phone and with his most charming smirk, asks for your number.
"Sure," you fold your arms, showing no intention of reaching for the device, "You can have my number if you tell me my name."
"What?"
"I'm waiting," And now it's your turn to plaster on your smirk.
Fuck, who the hell do you think you are. Vin storms into the corridor, ego bruised and mood soured. Ugh, whatever. He has plenty of chicks interested anyway. He doesn't need to-
The lightbulb goes off over his head. Mary must know. She knows goddamn everything going on in this school.
Vin dashes off in search for her, thoughts from seconds ago already completely erased and giddy at the thought of finally getting your name and your number.
.
.
Seong Taehoon - Taekwondo
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The first oddity is having someone your age show up for their first lesson. Then it turns out it's not your first.
The second oddity is when Taehoon tells you to show him what you got, you execute a perfect 1080 kick.
The last oddity, which really shouldn't be an oddity at all for Taehoon's ego, is that you are a fan of his from his UFC days and you think Taekwondo is the best.
Damn. And all that punctuated with a perfect 90 degree bow and 'Master Seong' too.
If that isn't the perfect way to worm yourself under his skin. Taehoon's going to be keeping an eye on you.
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susansontag · 9 months
Text
studio ghibli ranking list let’s go
(will include nausicaä and the red turtle)
the these-are-actually-bad section:
24. earwig and the witch
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actually the only one I haven’t watched so it’s cheeky to put it here. but I won’t be watching it and no one will blame me.
23. ocean waves
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who sincerely cares about these teenagers they’re so annoying. if the boys had been gay it would have honestly been homophobic.
22. pom poko
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this film is about shape-shifting raccoon dogs waging a war on humans and there’s copious jokes about their testicles. so on paper a perfect film. execution wise it’s so long and so boring and you care about none of them.
the cure-for-insomnia section:
21. tales from earthsea
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hayao miyazaki was right to walk out of this one even though he probably is a terrible father for having done so. some of the animation was really nice but these protagonists made me yearn for the ocean waves cast because at least they have semi-personalities.
20. castle in the sky
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proof miyazaki was judging his son too hard for earthsea because this is basically his version of the same thing: a nice idea with good animation and the most boring boy/girl protagonists imaginable. has got that whimsy he does so nicely however.
the passable-films section:
19. the cat returns
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but should he have? was that really necessary? has a scene of cats walking in a procession on their hind legs though so that’s a plus.
18. arrietty
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visually gorgeous but otherwise a very run-of-the-mill adaptation of the borrowers, which in something that should feel wondrous is less than ideal.
17. my neighbors the yamadas
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some harmless and inventive fun that you can put on in the background whilst eating lunch or doing some light yoga stretches.
the don’t-harm-me-I’m-right section:
16. howl’s moving castle
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yes I do in fact understand the intricacies of the plot and I still don’t care. this is one of ghibli’s messiest films for sure, it can’t decide what it wants to be or focus on and the plot just seems to happen and then not happen for no good reason. I also think howl’s a whiny bastard and hate that sophie has to mother him and endure his contemptible man tantrums. a shame because she’s actually cool.
15. grave of the fireflies
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it was sweet but I’ve watched more moving animated films set in war-time, even. I don’t have much desire to watch it again honestly but maybe I will at some point.
the this-is-getting-there section:
14. the red turtle
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I liked it! an acquired taste but I really felt the harshness of the elements and the cruelty and the love. it's also very beautiful to look at, one of the most visually arresting ghibli productions.
13. only yesterday
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a tale of two films with this one. the parts where she's a young girl are much more interesting, but if this had stuck the landing and it'd been more even overall, could have potentially been a favourite. alas.
12. the wind rises
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a genuinely weird one in ghibli's lineup, in which miyazaki meshes two different stories together (one of inventive 'genius' and a doomed love story, respectively) in a likely attempt to try and grapple with his having chosen his career over all else, including family (noteworthy is that his wife was not able to retain her career as an animator). as a piece of art it's less whimsical and more mature than many of these films, but I struggle to not let my distaste for what it potentially represents get in the way of my appreciation for it as a film, but it's so blatantly personal that it's impossible.
the that-was-just-a-good-fun-time section:
11. nausicaä of the valley of the wind
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aesthetically one of the coolest films on this list but I don't remember the story as well. great protagonist too. must have been great to experience when it first came out in the '80s.
10. porco rosso
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I love this film about a tomboy mechanic and some pilot guy who went off to war and was so changed he is now a pig. watching it feels like if the mediterranean was so small it fit into your back pocket and was also populated by all your friends all your enemies and your ex-lover also.
9. from up on poppy hill
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I found this one boring the first time I watched it but it really grew on me with subsequent rewatches. I really like her predominantly female household and the community they share in the backdrop of the rest of the drama is sweet. the bit of drama midway through is still batshit though but in a loveable, disney-would-never way.
the near-perfect section:
8. the tale of the princess kaguya
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probably takahata's magnum opus with the studio, if slightly overlong. folktales are tricky because they tend to feel moralistic and the characters one-note if you're not willing to build on them but kaguya herself feels very spirited and alive. the prettiest on the list too I'd say.
7. my neighbor totoro
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cozy late summer comfort film. perhaps even more special now because I was able to see the london production. cute!
6. when marnie was there
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surprised this one has ranked so high for me but that's the power of tomboy lesbians heck yeah etc. also the fantastical element of this one is so up my alley and touches upon a particular kind of childhood nostalgia I have of being in old houses and imbuing them with magical qualities. the image of anna facing the house across the marshland is burned into my retina.
the I'd-die-for-her section:
5. princess mononoke
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aesthetically too cool for school and has one of the best ghibli villains and female characters (lady eboshi). they really said all the spirits of the forest are going to die in this one but well it was a nice thought.
4. ponyo
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my comfort movie of all-time! heartwarming! with another great female ghibli character in lisa, sosuke's mum who is legally allowed to drive like that apparently. also one I actually watched for the first time in my childhood when I was around 7 or so at an after school club. the subtitles taught me the useful and now underused gem of a phrase "bog off".
3. kiki's delivery service
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asks the important questions such as: what if you were a young witch from a dying tradition who moves to a gorgeous town in sweden? what if your remarkable gifts were no longer appreciated due to rapid advancements in aviation technology? what if you could live in a bakery?
2. spirited away
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when you're just a timid child who is scared of admittedly a lot and your parents manage to mess everything up spectacularly so now you're forced to work at the age of twelve for people who steal your identity. still one of the best honestly they may never top this as the peak of their artistic achievement.
1. whisper of the heart
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have you ever been a struggling artist? have you ever been in love? have you ever been obsessed with john denver's take me home, country roads? in all seriousness love a story of two artistically inclined people inspiring each other and this has a unique feel compared to other ghibli films forever favourite probably. it feels like basically no one has watched it and that's a shame. rest in peace yoshifumi kondō.
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try-set-me-on-fire · 6 months
Note
hello I am a slut for forehead kisses so may I request that prompt if it inspires? 🥺
I know I said reunion kiss was next but I have conflicting ideas about that one and this popped into my head and google doc nearly fully formed, so here you go. On ao3 here!
By the time Eddie has locked his car and is bolting up the stairs so fast he very nearly trips and eats shit, he’s 23 minutes late.
“Sorry, Cap,” he says, trying not to sound out of breath and discretely tugging wrinkles out of his uniform. “Water main burst near Chris’ school, must have happened after I left the house ‘cause I didn’t get any traffic alerts.”
Bobby snorts. “As your captain I have to say ‘try to be punctual next time,’ but as someone who also lives in Los Angeles… it happens.”
Eddie sighs in agreement and slides onto one of the bar stools. At least it’s not a day where they got called out immediately, he’d feel terrible if he arrived and everyone was already out on the truck. A coffee mug — Eddie’s favorite at the station, a deep speckly green handmade number somebody had found at a farmer’s market — lands next to him, along with a familiar warm presence at his side. He smiles as he looks up at Buck.
“Hello, husband,” Buck says, grin so bright Eddie thinks he might be bioluminescent if they turned off all the lights.
“Hi, husband,” Eddie says, figuring he’d probably glow in the dark, too.
-
Eddie supposes he’s probably had more eventful 72 hour time spans in his life, though he’s hard pressed to remember one where the majority of the events were this good. It’s not like it started fantastic, his shoulder still hurts like hell from landing on it when the factory floor went out from under them, and there were the three horrifying hours where no one could find Buck and it felt like the world was ending. He hadn’t kept his cool very well, he’ll admit it, and he’s fully expecting teasing to set in any time now that they’ve had a few days and Buck is perfectly fine.
They’d found him in a little pocket in the debris two floors down, not a scratch on him. He’d lost his radio, but otherwise he was sort of just waiting around. Legs crossed, hands behind his head, chill as anything. He could have been at the goddamn beach.
And he’d looked at Eddie, a happy little smile on his face, and said “I knew you’d find me,” and Eddie — who’s lungs hadn’t been working right since he’d tried to call Buck on the radio and got silence in return — had kissed him instead of saying I always will.
And when they’d got back to the station he’d gone ahead and said it out loud, too, and I don’t know how to be without you and I love you, I’ve loved you for so long and move in with me and marry me, we should get married, please marry me.
Buck’s knuckles had been almost creaking with how tight they’d been gripping the sleeves of Eddie’s uniform. “Why? I mean- we haven’t- you never- how could you want that? It’s me, I-“ he’d laughed, trying to make it into a joke. “Won’t you get sick of me?”
“I want to share my whole life with you,” Eddie had said, and then laughed a little breathless. “And Buck, I- I think we already do. Your toothbrush is in my bathroom and I have a green lawn chair because you said it looked like a frog and- and you fixed the holes in my wall and you’re raising my son. We share- my house feels most like a home when you’re there. So. You can be there, forever, if you want. You want a couch? I have a couch. You like my couch.”
Buck had laughed, tears in his eyes, kissed him again, and said “I love your couch.”
So Friday evening they’d been sitting on the aforementioned couch as best friends eating pizza and drinking beer, and Sunday morning they’d got married, and had an all day long party in their backyard with people dropping in and out whenever they weren’t at work or had other places to be and Eddie had smiled so big and laughed so hard his cheeks still ache, and Sunday night he’d had sex with a man for the first time. He, Eddie Diaz, had sex with Buck (who’s last name is now sort of a toss up until he decides how he wants to change it, a process that turns out comes with a lot more paperwork and waiting than a marriage license). Not even just sex- Buck fucked him into the mattress so hard Eddie thinks he may have had some sort of religious experience. He came so hard he got a little mad about it after. Like. Is this what it’s supposed to be like? He could have been having sex this good the whole time? Buck had laughed at him, loud but not unkindly.
He’d learned what it’s like to sleep in a bed beside the man that he loves. Buck is warm and his feet are cold and he is delightfully solid and unmovable. He snores, especially when he curls up in his sleep, but Eddie has spent years sleeping in a big shared room in a fire station and years before that falling asleep in a war zone, so it doesn’t bother him. This morning they’d woken up holding hands even though they hadn’t gone to sleep like that, and Eddie is in love, in love, in love.
-
Sometime about halfway through their first shift as a married couple they’re called to a car gone over a cliff in the hills. It’s not gone very far over the cliff, and is resting on stable ground, and the occupant inside seems more shaken up than anything, but someone’s still got to get in a harness, and like usual that person is Buck.
Eddie can feel Chimney smirking off to the side as he triple checks Buck’s harness and line, but this is something Eddie always does and not a new feature of some sort of honeymoon phase. Buck’s life is precious, has been since the beginning, he’d never risk it with something as preventable as an improperly secured strap. Back last year, when Buck had been in the coma, it had been the one thing he’d not felt guilty about. The harness had caught him. Eddie had triple checked it. He always has and he’s not going to stop now.
"Be careful,” he says, darting in to give him the quickest kiss he thinks he can get away with. So, that part is new, sue him.
Buck's eyes get wide, and then he nods very solemnly. "I will," he promises, looking at Eddie for another long minute before he goes over the side.
To his left Bobby lets out a huff of air, and he's making a face and shaking his head when Eddie turns to investigate. Eddie raises an eyebrow.
"It's that easy?" Bobby gestures down the side of the cliff, amused. "I should have had one of you marry him ages ago."
Eddie laughs, and turns back to keep an eye on the line.
-
“We’re going to the roof,” Eddie says, after they’re back at the station. “For fifteen minutes,” he concedes to Bobby’s raised eyebrows. “To engage in strictly pg13 activities,” a final plea.
Bobby sighs, and Hen cackles as he waves a defeated hand at them to go ahead. Eddie hooks his arm through Buck’s and they stumble up the stairs side by side, laughing like they’re getting away with something.
-
They only got twelve minutes before the alarm rang again, and it was non stop after that till the end of the shift. Eddie’s shoulder is almost too stiff to move at this point, and Buck looks dead on his feet.
“You wanna just come home with me?” He asks, leaning on the locker next to Buck’s as he changes.
“Uh…” Buck looks tempted when he emerges from his t-shirt, hair all ruffled, but then he shakes his head. “Nah, we took both cars for a reason, I should go grab stuff from the loft.” The logistics of very suddenly moving in together are still working themselves out. Eddie thinks he could probably push — Buck practically lived with him before, anyway, what could be at the loft that he would miss so terribly it couldn’t wait another night? — but they’d planned their day like this so they could both go on Chris’ beach day field trip tomorrow without having to squeeze packing around it.
“Alright,” he agrees, though he can’t help feeling a little reluctant about it. He hasn’t been apart from Buck for more than an hour since he’d been lost in a pile of rubble, and he doesn’t really want to go separate ways now. He leans in for a kiss, and the way Buck smiles into it might be able to tide him over for just a little while. “I’ll go get the kid. See you at home.”
“Okay. Goodbye, husband,” Buck says, a little sparkle back in his tired eyes.
“Bye, husband,” Eddie laughs, soft, kissing him again.
-
There’s three unpacked boxes pushed to the side of the living room and two others empty by the recycling, contents dispersed around the house. By mutual, exhausted decision they’d agreed to deal with the rest some other time and collapsed into bed. They can’t even really make out properly, one or both of them yawning into it repeatedly until Eddie laughs and rolls onto his back, setting his alarm for the morning and settling more comfortably under the covers.
“Night, Buck,” he breathes, leaning onto his pillow to kiss his cheek. “I love you.”
Buck does the little smile with startled-wide eyes he’s done every time Eddie’s said it so far. “I love you, too. Uh- sweet dreams.”
And that should be that, another happy night of wedded bliss, but the thing that Eddie knows and kind of forgot is that after a long and hectic shift Buck gets a little restless no matter how tired he is, brain running overtime, so after trying to wait out his tossing and turning and yawning Eddie eventually sighs, turns the bedside lamp back on, and pokes him in the side.
“What’re you thinking about?”
Buck frowns at him. "Eddie. What if I die in my sleep?"
He doesn’t think it’s a real question, but it still makes his stomach lurch a little. "Why would you do that?"
Buck makes a face. "I wouldn't mean to."
"I mean- why are you afraid of that?"
Buck frowns harder. “I don’t know. I heard once you yawn because you’re falling asleep and your brain thinks you're dying, so it tries to get you a burst of oxygen to save you.”
“Okay, but- you’re not actually dying.” Eddie reaches a clumsy hand under the covers till it collides with Buck’s chest, where his heart is somewhere inside beating steady. “You’re okay. Just tired.”
Buck nods, but he hasn’t stopped frowning. “What if you die in your sleep?”
Eddie hums, shuffling onto his side to face Buck more fully. “I don’t plan to.”
“Okay,” Buck says, trusting Eddie’s word even in a hypothetical he would in actuality have no control over. “What if Bobby dies? Or- or anybody. What if… a meteor destroys the station and we can’t go to work?”
Eddie snorts, and then feels bad about it until he sees Buck grin a tiny bit. “I think we’d still have jobs, Buck. They’d rebuild the station, we might all just have to work at different houses for a while.” Buck frowns again, and Eddie winces at introducing this new worry. “Hey. If a meteor destroys our station I promise I will beg on hands and knees to get transferred to the same place as you.”
Buck laughs, just a small exhale of air through his nose. “Feel like you might wanna stay upright. They might cite professionalism and all that.”
“Okay,” Eddie says, kissing his cheek. “I will beg on two feet to stay by your side whenever I can, as long as I can.”
“Alright,” Buck says, a little choked. He slings an arm over Eddie’s side and settles in close against him, and Eddie thinks that might be it until he says, very quietly, “What if I’m not a good husband to you?”
“Oh, Buck.” This question is a real question, the one that was hiding behind all the others. “You're doing pretty great so far.”
“It’s been like two days.” Muffled, somewhere around Eddie’s collarbone.
“Yeah, and they’ve been a pretty great two days.” He drags his hand around Buck’s ribs, everything made soft sandwiched by blanket and sleep shirt. “I asked you to marry me because I wanted to be married to you. I wanted- you to be married to me. My husband.”
“Yeah, that’s usually why people ask that question,” Buck mumbles, not, apparently, in the mood to easily accept comfort. “But what if-“
“Are you afraid of me?”
“What?” Buck reels back in surprise to look at him. “No. Of course not.”
“Then why are you scared I’ll change my mind?” Eddie can feel the raised line of a scar on Buck’s back through his shirt. The one from getting tossed from the board the first time he’d gone surfing, Eddie’s pretty sure, years before they met. “I won’t. I’m not going to get tired of you, I’m not going to leave you behind, you’ll never be too much for me. You-“ Eddie takes a breath, tries to get his thoughts in order. “You make my life better by being in it, and that has always been true, and you know we’ve gone through some shit before. Even… even when you were suing the city because you were a lonely little idiot and I was pissed at you because I was a mean little idiot, all I wanted was to be by your side. When I was bleeding out in the street I just wanted to be with you. When you were- when you were dead on that ladder I’d have done anything-“ Eddie exhales, hard. Buck is on his left side, birthmark buried in the pillow, so Eddie has to snake his hand up to tilt his head for access to it. They’ve only been able to kiss each other for a tiny handful of days, but it doesn’t feel new, really, when he presses his lips to the pink blotches of skin. “I don’t know how else to explain it to you, but I will keep trying every day for the rest of our lives, if you’ll let me.”
Buck kisses him, hard, holds him tight. “I- yeah, I-,” another kiss, slower. “As long as I can- I’ll tell you, too, I- I’ve never been anywhere I’ve felt- it’s so easy to be here, in your- in our home.” Buck’s fingers find Eddie’s scars, twin bullet holes, touching them so reverently he thinks the scars might heal right up and vanish. “You make me-“ He kisses Eddie’s cheek, up by his eye, his nose, right between his eyebrows. “I don’t know how to say it. If you try every day, can I try, too?”
“Anytime,” Eddie vows. “Every day, anytime you want.”
“Alright,” Buck says, tail end of the word getting swallowed by another yawn. Eddie kisses his forehead again, or maybe just smiles against it. “I love you, Eddie. So much.”
“So much, too.”
It’s a little bit of a stretch to be able to turn the light off again with Buck still wrapped around him, but he gets it on the second try. He’s not sure how well he’ll be able to fall asleep tangled together like this, but that’s fine. Buck is warm. His feet, where they’re bumped here and there into Eddie’s legs, are cold. They breathe in, and on this inhale are entirely synched. There’s no place he’d rather be.
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shanastoryteller · 6 months
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Happy Halloween!!! More Lady Mo? I love your writings!!
a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48
Lan Zhan doesn’t want their baby.
Not their baby, he forces himself to think through the blood pounding in his ears. This body doesn’t belong to him. He’s just borrowing it, and the child he’s carrying no more belongs to him than the body he’s wearing. It’s Lan Zhan’s baby. And he doesn’t want it.
For the first time, he’s grateful that Mo Xuanyu didn’t stick around. It’s breaking his heart, and the baby isn’t even his. This would have killed her.
Or maybe it wouldn’t have. She didn’t want to be a bride, maybe she didn’t want to be a mother either, and she and Lan Zhan would have just been in perfect agreement about any child they would have created, and what had to be done about it.
I’m sorry.
I never intended –
This is for the best.
He can complete the mission that Mo Xuanyu died to give him. He doesn’t have to try and stretch it out or leave Lan Zhan behind to raise a child alone. What a mess that would have been, for him to have the kid and leave it behind with a father that didn’t want him. He wouldn’t wish that on any child, especially his ow – especially any child he helped create. It would have just been another terrible, bitter legacy of his to leave behind, an unloved child and a disinterested father.
This is better. This is a good thing.
“Oh, Meimei.”
Wei Wuxian blinks and sees Jiang Yanli kneeling in front of him, rubbing her sleeve over his cheeks for some reason. They come away damp and it takes him raising a hand to his own face to realize he’s crying.
Stupid. There’s nothing to cry over. This is the best thing that could have happened. A baby makes things complicated. Now they can be simple.
“We’ll take care of you,” Jiang Yanli says, pulling him into her arms, and he lets her, because he’s weak and she’s his sister and he feels that familiar roll of nausea even though there’s nothing in his stomach to upset it. “Don’t worry. We’ll take care of everything. You won’t have to – you know, you barely got a chance to see Jin Tower the first time, you should stay past the cultivation conference. Or, hm, I know there’s, well there’s also Lotus Pier. You’ve never been have you? A-Cheng could escort you there and you could see the ponds. We can think of a reason. A-Yao will help.”
Most of what she’s saying doesn’t make any sense, but it’s so comforting to be held by her that he just goes with it. He looks over her shoulder, expecting to see Jiang Cheng awkwardly hovering in the doorway, but it’s empty.
It’s. Empty.
“Where’s Jiang Cheng?” he rasps, even though he thinks he already knows.
She stiffens, her voice taking on a tone that reminds him of Madame Yu. “He went to talk to Lan Wangji. He’ll be back.”
He remembers Jiang Cheng’s reaction when he thought that Lan Zhan had hurt him, and now here he is, crying, and even though it’s stupid, he’s, well, it’s easy to see how Jiang Cheng could look at him and think him hurt, even though it’s not his baby and it’s for the best. But he doesn’t know that.
“Shit,” he curses, pushing himself away and stumbling to his feet. “Oh, no, he’ll kill him.”
He’s spared against Lan Zhan and Jiang Cheng has his core in his chest. Maybe he can’t actually kill him, but blood will be spilled, and both of them are stubborn enough to keep at it until someone does die. Fuck.
Jiang Yanli shrugs, then winces, like she knows that wasn’t the appropriate response. In other circumstances, that would be enough to goad him to laughter, but now he just rushes for the door.
“Meimei!” she calls out, but Wei Wuxian ignores her.
He doesn’t get far, running into Jin Guangyao almost as soon as he steps into the hallway. His eyes flicker to Jiang Yanli behind him, his frown deepens, and then he looks Wei Wuxian up and down once, then does it again, except this time he stops at his stomach. “Ah.”
How does he do that? He’s so lucky they didn’t know each other during the war and that he didn’t know his sister at all, otherwise he would have been made the first time the two of them had a conversation. “Where’d they go?”
“Perhaps it’s best if we leave them to it,” he suggests.
Wei Wuxian stares. “Have you lost it? Jiang Cheng is pissed and he’s going to take that anger out on Wangji. How many more whip scars do you want him to have?”
Jin Guangyao presses his lips together. “He is A-Huan’s brother. In different circumstances, that would entitle him to my protection. But you’re my sister.”
The warmth rushes through him and causes his eyes to sting. It’s all borrowed, all a lie, because he’s not Mo Xuanyu, but his stupid heart is really doing a terrible job of remember that right now. “A-Yao, please.”
He sighs. “All right. Follow me.”
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